>Struggling to Kneel -- a true story by John Ashcroft > >Though we all enjoy the brilliant array of fall colors, few of us >understand the process that produces the glorious display. As days grow >shorter, trees produce less green chlorophyll and leaves reveal their >natural, spectacular color. > >Much like a tree, my dad's true colors were most vivid at the end of his >life. When he had just hours left to live, I saw my father at his brightest >and finest. It was a day I will never forget. > >Before each of my inaugurations as governor of Missouri, I requested there >be a special time where friends and officials join together to ask God's >guidance in the inaugural festivities and in the administration I would >direct. I wanted to show my individual dependence on God and our >governments corporate dependence on His mercy. In 1985 and 1989, people from >every corner of the state attended these services. > >The night before I was sworn in to the Senate in 1995, my father arranged a >dinner for 15 to 20 close friends and family. My father eyed a piano in the >corner of the room and said, "John, why don't you play the piano and we'll >sing?" > >"You name it, I'll play it, Dad." > >"Let's sing, 'We Are Standing on Holy Ground.'" > >After the song, I found myself thinking out loud. "We're having a good >time," I said, "but I really wish this was a dedication service." > >The impending responsibilities of the Senate were weighing heavily on me. I >didn't have an inflated view of my importance as a senator, but I wasn't >lackadaisical about it either. The people of Missouri had chosen me to >represent them, and I wanted to do so with integrity and character. My >lifelong friend, Dick Foth, spoke up. "We can do something about a >dedication service, John." At Dick's suggestion, we gathered early the next >morning at a beautiful house near the Capitol maintained by friends to bring >Congress members together for spiritual enrichment. We chatted informally >and then sang a hymn or two. At the time I didn't realize how weak my father >was, but he had been losing weight in November and December and had told an >acquaintance of his, "I'm hanging on by a thread, and it's a thin thread at >that, but I'm going to see John sworn into the Senate." > >As we talked, the earnestness of my father's voice suddenly commanded >everyone's attention. "John," Dad said, "please listen carefully." My >children and I turned our full attention on Dad. The others leaned in. "The >spirit of Washington is arrogance and the spirit of Christ is humility. Put >on the spirit of Christ. Nothing of lasting value has ever been accomplished >in arrogance." The room was absolutely still. "Someday I hope that someone >will come up to you as you're fulfilling your duties as a senator, tug on >your sleeve, and say, 'Senator, your spirit is showing.'" > >Back when I was eight years old, my father had used a breathtaking dive in >an old Piper Cub airplane to convince me that my actions had great >consequences; now, nearly a half century later, he wanted me to remember >that how I did what I did would have eternal impact. I asked for prayer. >"It's too bad we don't have any oil," I added. In the Bible, David and Saul >were anointed as they each undertook their duty as king of Israel, as were >some leaders in the early church. I had adopted that practice -- being >anointed prior to each of my terms as governor. > >"Let's see if there's some in the kitchen," my father suggested. > >Dick Foth disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a tiny bowl of >Crisco oil. I knelt in front of the sofa where my father was seated, and >everyone gathered around me. Then I noticed my father swinging his arms, >trying to lift himself out of the couch. Given my father's weakness -- a >damaged heart operating at less than one-third capacity -- getting out of >that couch was a major feat. I felt terrible. Knowing he didn't have >strength to spare, I said, "Dad, you don't have to struggle to stand and >pray over me with these friends." > >"John," my father answered, "I'm not struggling to stand, I'm struggling to >kneel." Some statements take awhile to sink in; others hit you with the >force of a nuclear explosion. I thought my father's words would vaporize me >on the spot. A thousand reflections raced through my mind in the first half >second. There was a measure of shame, but a good shame, the kind that >arises when you realize you have vastly underestimated the character of >someone or his actions. I was overwhelmed, humbled, and inspired. He was >not struggling to stand -- he was struggling to kneel. >I was taken back to those early mornings fifty years before when I slipped >underneath my father and joined him on his knees. He prayed that we would do >noble things. Now, still on his knees, he was taking me there. > >"Editor's note: John Ashcroft was sworn into the Senate on January 4, 1995. >His father died the next evening." > _______ To unsubscribe, send "unsubscribe rangernet" to [EMAIL PROTECTED] or visit http://rangernet.org/subscribe.htm http://rangernet.org Autoresponder: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
