Much Better!
As I am crazy busy with preparations to travel to the "D" as my big brother, Steve Big House Anderson so lovingly calls Detroit (I stopped telling folks in Muskegon that I was going to Romulus or Southgate...they would inevitably say "where?" and I would say, "near Detroit", "Oh, yeah, I know where that is!"), I can't help but continue to recall the memories with my grandfather, Bishop Allen Parent.
One such memory came flooding back as I gave a testimony at church this past Sunday..and I'm sure most of my cousins will remember this..Grandpa trying to make us sing at the Christmas Eve parties at Auntie's house. We always started with Christmas carols, but soon enough we were into the songs of Zion - from the Lanny Wolfe Trio and the Gaither's to Andre Crouch and countless more...Grandpa (and probably my mom, Rebecca Parent-Anderson)crying and Auntie's fingers cramping at the piano. "Sing for me, Amy Joy" as he and my uncles call me (not sure why, my middle name is Rebecca, but I am a Joy, so - sorry, SQUIRREL!) and being just 5 or 6 years old at the time, I had NO INTENTION of singing out loud in front of at least 100 people (that's what it felt like at those parties). "I don't wanna sing, Papa." All I wanted to do was open my present and get home to wait for Christmas to start! "But dear, this might be my last Christmas." Nothing like good old fashioned guilt, straight from the master! SO, sing I did - and the years went on, and as I became a teenager and he would make his plea, I remember thinking, "If you put that 'this-might-be-my-Last Christmas' statement is writing, I'll sing all night long"!
Yet here I am, packing up, and evidently, last Christmas, he finally meant it... and of course, I wasn't there to sing. The song "I Need Thee" comes to mind when I think of him singing. The church could be on fire with the Holy Ghost all over the house, and folks dancing and shouting to the Lord all around - but when grandpa got up to give remarks, "I Need Thee" was his song. If you don't know it, it's just about the slowest song one can sing, but oh the power in those words.
I miss him already, even though I've been away from him almost 10 years. I miss knowing that when I travel to the big city once a month, I won't be able to stop in and see him and Gram together at the lunch table, patiently waiting for their food - faces lighting up when they realize they have company. I'm ashamed for the first few years of my marriage when I didn't bother to go visit - excuses like being too busy, not liking the nursing home, or any other lame excuse I could call upon. But the lessons learned at his and my grandma's knees - those I will never forget. Like "Always be a man (or a woman, as the case may be), Always plead the blood of Jesus Christ when I'm in trouble, and remembering that anyone I have to carry, won't make it anyway (I'm dealing with this in my life right now). He taught me about being proud of my heritage and who I am...telling me when I would go to visit another church on my travels - "Make sure you tell them who you are." He meant for me to tell them that I was his granddaughter...but I've learned that now wherever I go, I should tell them not only who I am, but WHOSE I am. And most importantly, though he never taught me this with his words, he exemplified NEVER BEING ASHAMED OF THE GOSPEL OF JESUS CHRIST! I can remember being more than a little embarrassed when we would walk into a restaurant, Grandpa wearing his hat, laden with little metal pins that he'd pilfered, begged and borrowed, announcing to all who would hear, "What have you got for this old Bishop?" No one ever accused him of being subtle...but it no doubt started the conversation, that usually ended in him giving someone the church business card with the "How Many F's" puzzle on the back...because "if you could be wrong about how many F's were in that paragraph, you could be wrong about the bible."
I wonder how many souls he has led to the Lord, and they have led, and so on? I'm sure the number is countless. Can I say the same thing? Am I bold enough to walk into Wesco and begin to share my testimony with the others getting their Icee's? Truthfully, sometimes yes, most times, no. But oh, how I desire to have that gift...now more than ever. I want to live up to the name I was born with - not on March 14, 1972, but on March 20, 1980 when I went down in that beautiful name of Jesus Christ and came up whiter than snow, or on September 9, 1980 - when I received the gift of the Holy Ghost, speaking in other tongues as the Spirit gave me utterance. It was then I was given the name of "Child of the One True King" (thank you, Matthew West!)
So tomorrow, my family and I will pack up our mini van, and head to the "D" and say our final farewell to my grandfather, Bishop Allen Parent. What a homegoing service it will be. Rest well, Grandpa...you have earned it! See you soon - and don't start spoiling Tommie Lee again...he's probably just getting his head back to normal size!
I NEED THEE
OH, I NEED THEE
EVERY HOUR, I NEED THEE
OH BLESS MY NOW, MY SAVIOR
I COME TO THEE
PASS ME NOT
O GENTLE SAVIOR
HEAR MY HUMBLE CRY
WHILE ON OTHERS THOU ARE CALLING
DO NOT PASS ME BY
SAVIOR, SAVIOR
HEAR MY HUMBLE CRY
WHILE ON OTHERS THOU ARE CALLING
DO NOT PASS ME BY
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