Thought you might enjoy this. Sissy

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 inaugral 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 acquaint ance 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; other 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 noblethings. 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."

Excerpted from Lessons from a Father to His Son, A91998 John Ashcroft. Thomas Nelson Publishers. Used by permission.

-- sissy sylvester (iblong2Him@ilovejesus.net), March 22, 2001

Answers

That was just beautiful! Thankyou for sharing it.

-- Amanda in Mo (aseley@townsqr.com), March 22, 2001.

What an awesome example of how we should view our stay here on earth. What an awesome example of noble character. Thanks for sharing this Sissy, hopefully it will give others an awakening! God Bless!

-- Greenthumbelina (sck8107@aol.com), March 22, 2001.

Sissy, Thanks for sharing this with us. It was beautiful. I know that if people will just give John Ashcroft half a chance, he will make a wonderful attorney general. Thanks again. It touched me. Winona

-- Winona in MO (thompsonwin45@hotmail.com), March 23, 2001.

WOW!

-- (jzd1@juno.com), March 23, 2001.

GREAT STORY! Thanks.

-- Sandy (tripletreefarm@hotmail.com), March 26, 2001.

Oh my! Thank you so very, very much for posting this!! God Bless!

-- Wendy@GraceAcres (wjl7@hotmail.com), March 26, 2001.