FINALLY ONE OF THE FATHERS

Two days in June – 16-18, 2008 - will remain special to me for the rest of my life. I was deeply honored to be part of a historical gathering of seven spiritual leaders assembled for the first time together to capture some of the combined investment the Lord has made in our lives over the course of our ministries. Though all of us may have previously met or known of each other over the years, this was a rare opportunity to spend time with some of the men God has greatly used over decades to see people come to Jesus and to encourage and build the Body of Christ in many places of the world, both in person and through extended media. I felt somewhat out of place amidst such a gallery of giants as the only one without a title of Doctor or Reverend, the only one who had never started or run a major ministry, as well as being the “baby” of the team, with all others over 70. I bravely carried my title of Worlds Oldest Teenager, with the subsets of Most Unlikely Levite and Most Internationally Unknown Evangelist to the gathering and was received with grace in the meeting set up and sponsored by Lionshare Leadership Group.

We were earlier sent a summary of a comprehensive study of leaders in the Scriptures done by Dr. Robert Clinton, professor of leadership at Fuller Theological Seminary. According to Dr. Clinton, "there are approximately 1000 leaders mentioned by name in the Bible. Most of these leaders are mentioned by name only or are mentioned in connection with a role. Some of the leaders receive a bit more attention but not very much information is given about their lives. There are about 100 prominent leaders described in the Scriptures. Of the 100 or so prominent leaders, only 49 have enough information given about them to ascertain how they finished their life and ministry."

As he analyzed the lives of these leaders he discovered four types of finishes:

1) Those cut off early:
These leaders were taken out of leadership by assassination, killed in battle, prophetically denounced, or overthrown. Some of this activity was directly attributed to God. Some of these were positive, some negative. • Examples: Abimelech, Samson, Absalom, Josiah, John the Baptist, James

2) Those that finished poorly:
Leaders going down-hill in the latter part of their ministry. This might be
reflected in their personal relationship with God or in terms of their competency in
ministry. • Examples: Gideon, Samson, Eli, Saul, Solomon

3) Those that finished so-so:
These leaders did well but were limited in some areas of their ministries because of sin. They had some negative ramifications surrounding their lives and ministries even though they personally were walking with God. • Examples: David, Jehoshaphat, Hezekiah

4) Those that finished well:
These leaders were walking with God at the end of their lives. They contributed to God's purposes at a high level. They fulfilled what God had for them to do.
• Examples: Abraham, Job, Joseph, Joshua, Caleb, Samuel, Daniel, Jesus, Peter, Paul

Thanks to the hard work of Dave and Tom Buehring http://www.lionshare.org for over five years to help arrange this DVD shoot by coordinating incredibly busy schedules of these brothers in arms. We all met in Pine Cove, the Billy Graham training center in North Carolina with a hand-picked audience of some two hundred business and church leaders, pastors and youth pastors. While the actual recording was done in an intimate fireside set in one of the conference lounges, the audience was linked live in an adjacent auditorium to the conversations. The team later joined the audience for further questions, feedback and some lively interaction after the taping with some of us also having a chance to share with them. It was not until we came out from the first taped sessions that we saw what an astonishing impact this simple sharing had on those who were watching next door; people wept, laughed for sheer joy, shared with passionate hearts and sometimes trembling lips what God had done in their lives while watching.

Imagine what it was like to learn from some of the most godly and influential spiritual leaders in the nation, all freely hitchhiking on each others experiences and walk with the Lord in four categories of questions on such subjects as these:

Restoring Ancient Paths – “In light of your many decades of service - what areas of ministry, of faith do you see core areas where have we strayed from God’s compass? – You have been around for a long time – what do you see as the present strong suits of the church and what we still need?” I shared a little on my favorite themes: the Nature and Character of God; Revival History; the Message of Gospel and Healing the Land

Personal Life Priorities for Finishing Well – “There is much we can glean from those finishing well. How have you come to this place? How are your hearts still clean? How did you tend to your own marriage and family? How did you learn to listen from your own inner compass to follow the leading of the Holy Spirit? –What would you say were major pitfalls to avoid? What personal godly habits can we learn from your life?”
Second/Third (Early) Watch; A Short Itinerary w/o Family; Come Ye Apart or Ye Will Come Apart (Sabbath Rest); Willingness to Change/Ways of Wind (Staying open both in vision and learning); and a motto from my Dad – It’s How You Finish That Counts

Leadership Wisdom & Insights – “You are among those that have lived the longest, led the longest. What are the key things you based your entire ministries on? What are the significant compass points you might desire to pass on?” I drew from my investment in the lives of young musicians and youth leaders in national and international Ministries
Focus on Kids; Root in His Works– in His Word – in His-story (Spirit/Water/Blood); Arts & Technology; Yesterdays’ Radical Today’s Conservative; Gain to Give It Away.

Commissioning Words for Next Generation – We were cut loose on our own greatest personal passions, insights. “If you had to do it over, what would you do instead? –What do you admire most of the emerging generation? What opportunities they have - What are the passion points in you?” Can you imagine the value of what was shared by Loren Cunningham on World Missions; Jack Hayford (leading out of Word and Spirit) – Bob Schuller – (Holding out Hope and Faith), Lloyd Ogilvie (Preaching to influence kings of industry and government), John Perkins – (Bringing Justice and Reconciliation in God’s Kingdom)? From my own calling to win and train the young, I drew from core themes like Kingdom of God Built on Friendship – Trust God or Die – and the importance of of both reading to gain Biblical, historical and social perspective: Readers Are Leaders, Weeders (discerning) and Breeders (creative) and “brailling” the culture.

One of the key meanings of doxa – “glory” is “enhancing reputation of God in the eyes of others” said Leith Anderson. Each of these leaders in both the ministry and marketplace arena learned to live and lead out of the ways of God. Two others also invited died before the conference – Bill Bright of Campus Crusade and Adrian Rogers of the Southern Baptists, One other was unable to attend then, Henry Blackaby of the Experiencing God Study Bible whose schedule conflicts required a rescheduled taping. Although these men all came from different backgrounds, educations, theological streams and had differing ministries, they were all at heart evangelists, loving God and people.

The one other person invited but not able to attend, (though all of us would have dearly loved to have had opportunity to learn from in some of these things) was one of the most dearly loved and honored of all the evangelists of our time, the man who lived just a few minutes from Pine Cove. His growing ill-health had prevented him from being a part of this, but still Tuesday morning he sent our little team a message: come up and visit me in my study at home. We all piled into a van and had the immense privilege of a short visit with the man who has spoken to more people about Christ than any other person in human history. We got to meet with Billy Graham.

All of us got to share with him just how much his life and ministry had affected us over the years. He has been without doubt the single most influential and respected ministry of the 20th century. Here he was, in the last season of his marvelous life, with his daughter Ruth (Bunny) and his dog, sitting in his study, someone God has used so wonderfully to bless His world. We all felt the sacredness of the moment; he was in his own words “going to see Jesus very soon.” Though he was obviously deeply missing his lovely wife whose funeral was exactly a year before on that day, there on the edge of Fathers Day weekend, six other “fathers in the faith” gathered around this man of God like little kids to share with him what his example and inspiration had done for all of us. It was a rare honor that will never come again, and one we will treasure for the rest of our own lives. Billy spoke and listened as one of us, in a prayer laced with humility and dependence of the Holy Spirit and I quietly recorded this, his prayer for us:

BILLY’S PRAYER

Our Father we are very grateful for the fellowship that we have in Christ –
And the only reason we are together right now
is because of Jesus
He has brought us together –
We pray that this group that will be doing different things –
in the next two weeks or the next two days
will have the blessing of the Holy Spirit –
may the Holy Spirit lead each of us –

May we be filled with love and joy and peace and long-suffering
and all the gifts that You have given us as individuals and as a group –
bless our families we pray Thee
bless the people we minister to –

We thank you Lord for all that you have meant to all of us –
and all of us are getting older and we need you more than ever –

Now we commit this day and the days to come
and the ministries that we all represent –
We commit them all to You in Jesus name.

(Fireside Chats With the Fathers Visit July 2008)


My eyes filled with tears at times when I remembered how much of a model his life had and example been to me as well as for all of us. When I won Decision magazines international tract contest in 1970 on the theme “Why I Believe In God” Billy’s ministry flew Fae and I up to their headquarters in Minneapolis to read this for all their staff at their annual Christmas party. We were honored also by a complete tour through their HQ building, multiple stories of ministry-related services, where sometimes up to 30,000 letters a day would come to their offices following a TV-linked crusade. Each letter was tagged for what was needed; follow-up material, free literature or subscriptions to Decision. And finally, the tag for a prayer request. I will never forget the impact made on my life by seeing what few see; those many requests taken just a few at a time to the little chapel in the basement of the building and faithfully personally prayed over one by one. I cannot tell you how much of an impression that loving attention in such a huge context made on me. I thought: “No wonder God has so signally honored Billy. I have never seen such care in such a large ministry.”

All I can tell you is this. I thought, there near the start of my own journey with Jesus: “If you go on in this, and you don’t steal the collection or run off with someone’s secretary, your own ministry will probably grow. Would you have the gifting and calling to pastor or administrate any sort of work like this?” And the short obvious answer was “No.” It was then I made a vow. “I will not build a ministry myself. I will instead look for those who are called and gifted to do this and help them build theirs.” And for the past decades since then, that has been the calling of my life for His Church; to help others “make God famous.” As John, (the youngest of the disciples of Jesus) was also able to say at the evening of his long, lovely and useful life “I have no greater joy than this; to hear of my children walk in the truth.” (3 John 4). I believe that will summarize what I loved for His people. I have had two goals; to see the street saved, and the Church saved. Some call the first evangelism and the second revival. To me they are two sides of the same miracle; that the life of God in Christ by the Holy Spirit will bring resurrection power, purity and Presence to that which is dead or dying and restore relationship with the Living God.

Billy, we love you. All of us owe you a debt of gratitude for your faithfulness both to the Call and to our Captain. You have been for us a true brother in the battle, and an example to all of us in our own journey with Jesus. Thank you, and may your final farewell with us all be as honorable and fragrant as the long and fruitful life you have led for Him.

Winkie

A time comes to many who like us realize just how much has happened in our lives and must acknowledge again just how truly great is our God. This time for us is back again.

While it is surely true that no man who having set his hand to the plough begins wistfully looking back to former days is really fit for God’s Kingdom, the gift of remembrance is a constant companion for those who love the King. How grateful we are again for what the Lord has done for us! His ways are past finding out and all His paths are peace.

November 17th marked for me an anniversary – exactly a year since my final surgery was completed in New Zealand, opening the doorway to a new lease on life. Again how honored we have been as a family to have so many friends both old and new that have joined in some way with us to help us toward the triumph of His grace and goodness.

The past six months of travel again in the U.S. were marked by some precious reunions with many who have loved us and prayed for us for decades, and what times of joy they were! Though never billed or announced as such, it was our Gratitude Tour.

We began two weeks in Southern California spending time first with our long-time friends, the Maddux family in San Diego. Bob and Claudia had their own miracle earlier this year, as terrible fires raged up the very road they lived in, with temperatures hot enough to break down brick and reduce almost anything to ashes and rubble. Warned to evacuate their home just a few hours before, they saved what few precious things they could and left with just enough time to sprinkle a little water on their roof. Once before such a fire had come to their area, and threatened their church. God spared them then, and did so again in an amazing way. When they were finally allowed back in, all around them was desolation; homes right across from them gone, the ones on either side razed to the ground. Yet there stood their house, still intact! On examination, the fire had come up to the wall of the bedroom Claudia’s Mom lived in, burned through the pile of wood outside the wall, burned into and right through the wall – then stopped at the inside wallpaper! You could see the light through the paper from the inside, but it had gone no further. On top of that, insurance replaced their carpet and curtains, dry-cleaned their clothes and put them up in a beautiful ocean-view home while repairs were going on. We were able to relax with them and I got to share again in their church as well as film some six hours of video interview to source a script for the new movie of our late friend Keith Greens’ life. This will be a full acted professional production for commercial theatrical release in the order of Walk the Line and Amazing Grace. We trust that like the last recorded concert Keith and Melodys story will bless the world even further though he has been gone for more than a decade.

We also spent a couple of days with Che and Sue Ahn in Pasadena. How much God has blessed and increased their lives and ministries from the first time I met Che as a 17-year old with a passion for seeing people come to Jesus. From his first involvement in the awakening among over 2,000 young people during the Jesus movement in Washington D.C. I have watched the hand of the Lord on Che and his family, who have also become some of our nearest and dearest friends. I was privileged to be able to input into his early life some of the great themes and truths of revival we outline in the 21CR podcasts now have used by thousands of high school and college students. I see now just how greatly God has blessed him with his team at Harvest Rock and a global fellowship of more than 2,000 churches linked to H.I.M around the world. More than a decade ago an initial tiny home meeting with Lou Engle and a few Asian Christians for prayer blossomed into the Call, and the evident blessing of the Lord. Che was the one who asked me to go to Korea under the auspices of the Wagner Institute, and he and the valiant Korean Christians (who have yet to have me share personally what God put on my heart for them!) stood so solidly behind us both in prayer and support that only eternity will tell how much my life depended on their faithful ministry to us. I was treated like a President or Billy Graham by these lovely saints who vowed against my certain death “Not on my watch!” Thanks again, dear ones both in the U.S. and in our ordeal in hospital for all you did for us.

Another wonderful reunion also in Southern Cal. was with Tony and Kathy Salerno, founders of the Agape Force, one of the most amazingly creative street ministries of the Jesus Movement. They also have been some of our closest friends in the world, and we have shared many a battle and victory with them and their wonderful work over the past four decades. From the time I saw Tony first dedicate his life to Jesus as a young youth pastor in Glengrove California to the revival in Reedley that touched not only the town but cities around it and eventually through Agape Force, millions in the nation and the world, he has been a true blessing to our family and my ministry. “Adopted” by them first as friends and co-laborers we moved house with them from different places in California eventually to Texas where we still hang our hats in the U.S. We owe so much to their kindness and hospitality over the years; many young lives we were able to share with and rejoice with first met in the Force are a backbone of our friendship networks right through to the present time. Our closest friends in Texas, Jim and Dee Patton and their children, Sonny and Margie Jaynes, Charlie and Shelley Moore, Buddy and Caroline Hicks and many others who minister in music or in marketplace, even the area where we live in America all had their genesis in the Force. Ministering now in a second generation through Semperternity headed up by Tony’s son, Anthony, we were honored to be able to spend time again with both them and the band before they left on another tour.

I have in previous posts mentioned two real ’08 highlights for me in the North Carolina Fireside Fathers DVD conference meet with Billy Graham and my surprise 64th birthday in August written up in a two-page section of the local paper. Shortly after these my son William and I co-shared in a youth advance near the Virginia Beach area. As well as my being able to sit up through ungodly hours of the night again (a great test of regenerated stamina), William and I later both got the privilege of having a personal lunch with Pat and Dede Robertson of CBN. Pat has likewise been a blessing to me in the early years of this significant ministry. I did two major multi-camera film set teaching series in the 70s with CBN for the Rock and Manna when these weekly one-hour slots were integral to the program, on the Nature and Character of God and the Parable of the Soils.

I was also honored to be part of the literature side of the TV outreach in the former Soviet Union where the nation literally ran out of envelopes over the responses to their targeted cities with special evangelistic broadcasts. This culminated for me being able to spend more than sixty hours with a Russian interpreter helping train some 400 newly converted young men and women who gave two months of their time to learn to help restructure a nation through the principles and precepts of the Kingdom of God. To be able to share with Pat and his wife some of our story was a signal blessing. The generosity of CBN and partners helped Fae and I financially both in our own emergency medical crises and Pat’s contribution was both in international calls to prayer and financial aid during what happened to me. How much we appreciate him and the work God raised up through him.

September proved yet another adventure and a brush with what might have been disaster averted by miracle. I was invited to speak at a great church in Houston by Randy Harvey a friend with whom I have shared some great times in the past, as part of a week-end Missions convention. Both Fae and William decided to come also, and as it was close enough to drive to, I rented a car for us instead of my usual short flight there. I called both the pastor, his church secretary and the hotel to O.K. this change, but none of were aware that I was actually on a different schedule. Checking into the hotel I had even called during the trip down one more time to make sure our reservation was in, the desk manager told me that he couldn’t find it now! Calling pastor Randy at 10:30 Friday night, the conversation went something like this: “Randy? I’m here.” “Here?” Yes. Here. “Here now?” Yes. They can’t find our reservation. “You’re in Houston now?” Yes. At the hotel. Long silence. Then his voice: “The meetings aren’t this week. They are next week.”

After a few hurried phone calls, it became obvious that we couldn’t now change the coming meetings. Though the church services might have been moved earlier for the Sunday, the scheduled Saturday Youth night was already area-wide advertised. We with apologies settled for a Saturday morning meet instead with his leadership and I got to spend a pleasant few hours sharing with them. We decided then for the rest of the now free week-end to drive up to meet with some other Houston long-term friends: Buddy and Caroline Hicks who gave up pastoring a large well-off suburban church to run a kids skate park and cyber-café in Humble Texas as an outreach to this oil-town. Dave Kirschke is another friend in the area who runs Straightway one of the most effective drug rehabilitation ministries in the nation. Dave helped me also in Korea as did the President of the company by supplying me in hospital the Mannatech supplement that had saved his little boys life, which was also instrumental within the grace of God in helping heal the massive damage to my system. We had some great meetings both with them and their ministries, and then headed back tired but happy Monday to Lindale.

Within a few days, it became obvious that one of the deadliest hurricanes in American history was headed right for our East Texas area. Ike was a category four when it struck the coastline and had barely slowed to a three on the eve of arriving in our region. Even a category three is enough to turn a trailer home like ours into matchsticks and blow those matchsticks away. All the prediction strands showed it striking us squarely in its path. You can imagine that much prayer went on in our local YWAM base ranch. Again mercifully and miraculously its path both moved suddenly away and had dropped in intensity by the time it hit us to a tropical storm. But in Houston, where we had been just a few days before, over a million people had to be evacuated, including our friends! The airports were all closed, and though there was much less damage than might have been, it took another two or three weeks for power and lights in some places to return. We even got to host our hosts’ daughter and son as refugees from Houston in our area, and help them get food and supplies loaded up for their family back in the city.

Jesus said “The wind blows where it wants to. You can hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it came from or where it is going. So is every one that is born of the Spirit” (John 3:8). So here is a curious question: Did I arrive in Houston at the wrong time or not?” Later I was able to return and do the meetings originally scheduled for that earlier time.

Near the end of our six month U.S visit, after a great conference in San Jose I traveled up to a Northern California town that remains an enclave to some of the spirit of the sixties. A hippie commune once populated by young freedom seekers of those times, acres of redwood forest had been turned into a refuge for those longing for a back to nature reality. Some still live there. A revival broke out during that time that transformed the German lady who set it up and it became a Christian community, now offered to YWAM to run a school. After some days of teaching a class reminiscent of those early days, on my return drive to San Jose airport I got to meet with two more sets of long-term friends, Chip and Linda Worthington and their son Chris, and Mario & Mechelle Murillo.

Chip was one of the original practics teachers in the Agape Force and also in Genesis the discipleship training school in Santa Rosa I helped Jim Argue found in the early 70s. Genesis put nearly two thousand young people from the turbulent sixties and seventies into the ministry. Chip also was youth pastor at Bill Johnson’s Bethel church in Redding, teaching my Youth Aflame! material to some of the foundational young people in this lovely work, now seeing daily practical revival in that city. Chip and his family have been close friends for more than three decades now. It was fun to have lunch there and journey down with him to San Francisco to meet again with a mutual friend who for me over the years was more like a soul brother, ministry twins accidentally separated at birth.

Mario Murillo is arguably one of the best and articulate street ministers of all time, whose chosen home region of the Bay Area was touched at different times by his Resurrection City from street and college outreaches in the radical sixties to city-wide crusades drawing thousands in ways no-one has ever seen before. We first met in the Carousel restaurant in Anaheim; me, a young punk preacher from New Zealand in a white polyester suit and Mario a newly saved and called teenager with a look in his eyes like Moses come down from the mountain. There, over a two-hour lunch, we two unknown nobodies with visions much larger than our lives schemed and dreamed together of changing the world. We shared in youth camps in Northern and Southern California in the 60s and 70s, I was photographer at his wedding, helped host him in New Zealand and Australia in his first overseas ministry travels, and encouraged him to put some of his preaching into print. Over the forty years we have known and loved each other’s work and calling, it has been one of the great privileges of my life to count Mario as my friend. We got to spend an evening together with him, Mechelle and their son Michael and swap miracle stories of the goodness of God in redeeming our lives from destruction.

So here we are now at home again. Our son William is with us for a few special weeks; now 30, the age that Jesus began His ministry. He will serve out a few more months back in Texas as a missionary with YWAM and then begin his own new journey with God.

Fae has been catching up with many friends and besides reorganizing and re-beautifying the whole house and garden, ministering each week when possible to her parents on the North Shore. We have a new project to replace our old batch roof and refurbish it inside to provide a place where our friends from abroad can stay that visit from time to time.

In just the past few weeks my tennis is getting some strength back both in serve and baseline play, and while both Fae and William presently have knee problems that are somewhat painful and limiting so we cannot all go crazy together on court, we are otherwise enjoying good health by His grace. Your prayers still carry the weight of power that took me to the throne from you on our behalf. Keep us in the shelter of those arms as He brings us to your remembrance. We need Him still as much as ever.

I have a Christmas card I read here in N.Z on our major national radio broadcast a few years ago around this time when this commercial station turned over its broadcast to friends. It says of the shepherds: “They said they saw a star moving in the sky. They said they saw lights, and heard angels singing and fell on the ground. What were they on?”

What are we on, indeed. We are those brought out of darkness into His marvelous light. We are the children who know what it is to walk in darkness and despite such history may still have times when we see no signs and hear no songs but know still He cannot fail. And though the world sings its carols now many times without reason or reality, we still celebrate. Peace may not be yet on earth, but it reigns nevertheless in our hearts. The winds may blow, storms may rage, but we are sheltered by and grounded on a Rock. The One Who made the worlds is our friend and our Savior, and this year again, we are glad.

Our love and affection to all of you with whom we share Him –

Winkie, Fae and William.

For a now ancient group called The Beatles, this was the date of true old age, and it was one of the nostalgia songs sung by our friends and near-family Jim and Dee Patton with two of their children for my surprise Birthday Party, Saturday 2nd (August 3rd in N.Z.)

Surprise it was too! I should have concluded something was up from whispered conversations between my wife and son, and much talking on the phone to friends in other rooms. Still, it is a known characteristic of old age that you may miss things, and I plead guilty to blissful ignorance of a carefully-planned and schemed secret scenario that culminated in an amazing gathering of friends from far and near held in our church hall in Lindale. I was surprised at seeing two old friends from Agape Force days join Jim at the airport when I flew in from War Week in Detroit Friday evening; I did suspect that we might go out and eat with them the following day sometime. I didn’t know when we “dropped by the church on the way to going out to eat” that it would be with over a hundred others some driving or flying from thousands of miles away to honor me.

The previous week I spent over six hours being interviewed both in Tyler and in the Revival Library in the YWAM ranch on my life and work by Patrick Butler, a friend who is now the Religion Editor of the main Tyler newspaper. Patrick was the one who made the area aware of what was happening to me when I was in critical condition in Korea, and I looked on this lengthy interview and photo shoot as some kind of follow-up on that story last year. The spread came out Saturday on two pages with some great pictures, his birthday gift to me, with copies for people that came.

Dee, our faithful servant companion, gifted with administration skills carried out with great kindness and care, somehow perpetrated much of this planning of amazing effort in secret. E-mails sent to hundreds of friends, replies turned into cards that could be read aloud, coordinating places to stay at and hide out in until the evening of the event all had to be done under my nose. She said that as she was working on sending out the E-mail invites from our kitchen table (their internet service is presently untenable) that I looked right at what she had done and even asked – “What is this?” I cannot remember this at all, so perhaps as God’s Smuggler used to pray, I was “blinded by God” from seeing what I was looking directly at. Either that, or from being near to sixty-four.

Besides the music ministry to open the party from the Pattons (known now in their performances as “Bongo And The Point” for reasons once explained to me that I can’t now remember (64?) long-term friends from other parts of the country also shared. Buddy and Caroline Hicks, now pastoring both street and church kids in Houston who played such a large part in our lives during the early days of the Agape Force and were largely responsible for our initial move to Texas came down with their adult children, helping hugely providing the food for the 14 tables crammed into the room. Jim Barrier, now in the Austin area as both a radio talk show host and pastor, played M.C. (without the Hammer). Ribena Burton made a massive and scrumptious chocolate cake large enough to hold enough candles that I couldn’t blow them all out. (64).

Jim & Jannie Rogers from the early days of our marriage and Sonny and Margie Jaynes shared a table with us also, recalling the early days when they were in charge of the rehabilitation ministry of Gates of Life. He even did an impromptu solo dance during one of the early songs which I of course, could not and did not join in on. (64 for sure. And besides, “white guys can’t dance”. There are of course, exceptions, but I am sure l am not one of them). One of the special blessings also was a first-time meeting with Shawn Carey, the trial lawyer who gave his life to the Lord in New York two years ago when Marc Scibilia set up a meeting there (Can God Be Trusted?) with me. I mentioned his wonderful story in a previous Christmas blog as an example of the blessing of still being alive to serve the Lord. Shawn came down with his wife and three of his boys from New York to share his testimony again live with the whole audience. His description of the work of the Holy Spirit in personal conviction is still of the best I have ever heard. Marc, who also sacrificed a long drive to come down also with Julian his videographer shared in song. As Buddy pointed out, young musicians discipled from generation to generation.

My dear wife, beloved of my heart for all of these years, who so successfully carried out deep deception of her unsuspecting husband, is also greatly to blame for the bombshell. When she asked, after I walked into what I thought was an empty hall to find an overwhelming explosion of light, noise and mass of people - “Was it a surprise?” my initial answer was “No. It was more like a shock heart-attack”. (64) My innocent-looking son, smiling all the while as he chauffeured his dear old Dad to the place of party, played it straight and cool during the entire time he was party to the subterfuge of silence. Oh the depths! That I could live so long and not notice. I can only blame it on being sixty-four. For all of you who were also “party” to this, thank you so much. Your kind comments and encouragements have been overwhelming.

The part amongst so many other small and significant scenarios on that wonderful night that touched me deeply to tears was another song by Jim and his family. I know and love it, but heard it then anew in a context that helped me see again how much we owe to those God has moved on to help us on our journey with Jesus.

The road is long
With many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where?
Who knows where?
But I'm strong
Strong enough to carry him
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

So love shows in the little things and the large, the unselfish giving of what we have also been given, the innumerable and sometimes unnoticed random acts of kindness and care. Such is the transformation of a heart from darkness to light, from the power of the Matrix to the arms of the Master and Maker, the great commandment in majestic summary so long ago given and as powerful and practical today as when uttered so long ago –

“So on we go
His welfare is of my concern
No burden is he to bear
We'll get there ... “

For the rest of the journey -
thanks again for you all

In Jesus love –
Winkie, Fae and William

New Beginnings 2008
HAPPY RESURRECTION!

Apologies to those of you who have looked in vain for some recent update on the blogs since December last year. Your gentle urging to keep you abreast of what we were up to these past few months was appreciated. This entry will cover January through to March.

WELL, we just finished Easter week here in Down/Under New Zealand. Well. A glad and happy Easter it was too. Palm Sunday is the only one in our lifetime that fell on March 16th - a 3:16! With eight the number of resurrection and new beginnings in Scripture it was appropriate this month to tell afresh of God’s great love for His world.

I was honored to share Good Friday on one of New Zealand’s largest commercial radio networks (ZB) broadcasting nation-wide, as part of a team put together for the whole of the day by friends from Christian Broadcasting. I joined with a long-term friend John Cooney, editor in chief of our nations largest free magazine the Grapevine. John and I had a late afternoon hour slot together on an open talk-back covering a number of topics beginning with my own miraculous return from the edge of death, and finishing with some evidences of the Lord’s greatness in creation around us. Later on the show was John’s interview with Barry McGuire, our good mate with a resurrection testimony having been revived from a fatal heart arrest a few years ago, now going on strong again with Jesus. Barry and his Kiwi wife Marie (once my short-term secretary) were with us at lunch hosted by our friends Lindsay and Lynn Armishaw two weeks ago.

The talk-back turnover to CBA by commercial radio over Easter and Christmas for our own programs is something quite unique and wonderful for our nation. Over a period of a decade they have had such good feedback from the creative programming many culturally aware Christians have contributed that this has been an annual event now. It gives the station personnel a welcome break to enjoy the holidays themselves with their family and friends, and gives us a chance to share with others that what makes the time special is not really about bunnies and eggs. After all, history is His-story.

It is also for me a wondrous reminder of just how much the Resurrected Lord has done for us over the past year. As I mentioned previously, a year full of both trial and triumph, white-knuckled trust and overwhelming wonder at His greatness and goodness. I thought again of knowing the day I stood at the edge of death, with one last breath left in my body. Knowing that when that was exhausted, my battered body that had been strapped to a hospital bed with almost everything but my heart closed down inside me, would simply resign my spirit to my Maker and Master. No sense of fear, just a quiet and simple surrender with perhaps a hint of wishing I had had more time or could have done more..

And then that last breath was gone I had no more to give, and I was dying.

And He was there. Not at all where I expected He might be in such a situation. Not in front of me, to welcome me home or to turn me over to some carrying angel. Not beside me or even behind me, His hand on my shoulder to strengthen me for the last journey. He was inside me, looking out through my eyes at His world, closer than a brother, closer than breathing. I saw through His eyes not heaven, but His world, as He sees it in all its beauty and fallenness, wonder and ugliness, violence and tranquility, terror and peace. He was there, where He had been all the time since the day I first put my uncertain hand in the hand of the One Who holds the worlds, the One Who has promised to never leave us or forsake us, the One Who keeps all of His promises to the end and beyond it. And on the Monday following Easter week, where we remember again with gratefulness and love His death and resurrection, I had my own.

Fae reminded me of what it was like for her on what she called Miracle Monday, when arriving to keep the morning vigil beside me as I lay in a coma from which even the Christian doctors had little hope or expectation of my recovery. They not only gave me only a tiny tithe of possible survival; they also had no expectation that if I did recover I would have all of my facilities function again. We had received a prayer cloth from a ministry that had intensely prayed for us, and Fae had the night before laid this all over my body adding again her faith to those who had already earnestly interceded for us,

And without fanfare I opened my eyes and sat up alert, aware and alive. My own resurrection. Not anywhere near as spectacular as my Master, but to me and my family and friends in a small way just as miraculous and wonderful. On this anniversary, a year later, I remember not only what did for our world, but what He did in mine.

Some of you who have written me or sent some kind of encouragement over the past twelve months to us whether as a card, check or a creative blessing and prayer have taken the time to share with me the tough road that you have also walked recently. More than ever now I am able to identify with the unbelievable maelstrom of pressure and stress that strikes like a whirlwind to the core of your life when such things happen to you, your close family or your friends. But while Good Fridays are only good in retrospect of the Resurrection, the gift of grace that may come in the storm is evidence that faith is not something you hold, but Someone Who holds you.

I am now “back in the saddle” again having ministered for at least a month and being fourteen weeks now from the final closure of my surgery. The titanium tummy mesh is holding up well, and apart from a little tightness in deep forward bends is doing its job well in helping keep the deeper stitches holding the healing wound that was stitched with dissolving sutures. We are also playing some tennis again which I hope to increase a couple of days weekly to help rebuild both my strength and stamina.

My first ministry in New Zealand was a few days at the Great Barrier Island January with a Sojourner YWAM school under the leadership of Jay Lucas. Besides the students many of the staff also came to these very laid back sessions many of them with me sitting by the computer and dialing up power points, notes and music to a projector. We also got to touch base again with visiting friends who came to the Island for holidays. Apart from the small airplane flying us to the wrong drop-off point on arrival and a broken front tooth the week was uneventful but blessed and touched by Him.

We also had two small visits out of the country; flown to Fiji at the invitation of friends for a weeks vacation in a new development of the island area called Demerau. We were given a weeks free stay in a lovely condominium with three other couples and I learned to ride a bike again after 20 years of not following in my fathers footpedals. The other trip was to Tasmania Australia on an unused old ticket from last year where Dr. Andrew Corbett set up three night meetings for me over the weekend and a morning church service. He also did a great Matrixed version of my Digital Generation power-point presentation and restrung our racquets for us as well as kicking my rear end in tennis.

Other areas of ministry followed; on my return addressing the LIFE churches annual staff meeting thirty minutes after the return plane from Tasmania touched down. I thought staff meeting was going to be an informal chat with some 10-20 people and found there were some 500-600 in attendance! The next two weeks involved two nights at a Massey University Lecture room to a new School of Revival on that subject, and helping open a new church meeting place for His Way on the North Shore called The Upper Room. Two young men from the work volunteered their time and talents to repaint the ceilings and walls in our home when we were in Australia. The following week their generous gift was blessed of the Lord by them being offered to fill the role of a firms’ master painter who had left for overseas, a contract for five-figure major projects. God is good.

Also Easter week I did a new five-day series on the Nature and Character of God in the Arts for two combined DTS YWAM schools locally, digitally recorded for later podcast. I filled in for a defaulting guest speaker for our friends Craig and Sonia Monroe at Kings Way, a local ministry with outreaches to gangs and prostitutes in our area. Still to come are two more church services on 20th century revivals, a business-mans’ breakfast outreach on the North Shore for our friends at Harbourside that helped us put in our concrete driveway last year and as much time as we can here serving the churches and pastors before we leave for overseas next month.

Our departure date for the U.S. is now set for April 22nd, and we plan to be in California (hopefully joined by William) for the first two weekends to meet with and thank some of our friends there who prayed and cared for us over this over this past year before returning to Texas again by the second week in May. Fae has been ministering to her elderly parents her Dad, who will be 93 in a few months and though legally blind is still the chief caregiver at their home to her mother now with major memory lapses. Again we want to thank you for your faithfulness in prayer; the Lord has been our constant provision and protection and we have been so conscious that much of the blessing of these past months has been due to His grace and the constant way we have been held before His throne. You are all loved and appreciated so much.

Blessings in the Beloved –
Winkie, Fae and William.


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This then is final stretch, heading to year end for us. It is the end to a most amazing year – full of trials and miracles, danger and shelter, crisis and care. Going through some of my old recordings of music ministry in the 60s and 70s in my Revival Reclamation Project, I was touched again by the words of our friend Andre Crouch, the man who brought church to the street and the charts during the Jesus Movement.

“I’ve had many tears and sorrows
I’ve had questions about tomorrow
There's been times when I didn’t know right from wrong
But in every situation God gave blessed consolation
That my trials only come to make me strong

Through it all – Through it all
I’ve learned to trust in Jesus – I’ve learned to trust in God
Through it all – Through it all
I’ve learned just to depend upon His Word.”

I remember coming out of my two and a half week coma to the first song in English we heard since my arrival in South Korea. A nurse had left a little portable radio tuned to the only English station they had there; a station playing 60’s and 70’s hits.

On that beautiful morning in Easter week of April, the song playing was sung by another friend of ours, Pat Boone who also prayed for us and wonderfully supported us during the crisis. He asked me “What was the song I was singing when you recovered?” I told him how great God’s timing and encouragement was to us hearing a familiar favorite voice on my own resurrection day – it was his great chart hit “April Love.”

Such are the ways of the Lord. His infinite care in all the little details as well as the major battles of life are unmatched by any mere religion. He is the scariest, friendliest, funniest Person in the Universe. We want a world where nothing can go wrong, where good things happen only to good people, and bad things only come to bad people. We think a world like that where there was only safety, security and shelter would be the best of all possible worlds. And we would be wrong. Within a few weeks we would not want to live in that world. We would be bored out of our minds.

The God Who made it all hard-wired risk into His Universe. All the things that make life great always carry that element of alternative possibilities. I have recently been meditating on the works of God, and that of His being the Entrepreneur is one of the most fascinating in Scripture. The old casting of lots, the Urim and Thummim and other odd practices incorporated into the direction and guidance of God are pointers to His willingness to let us take risks. All the great triumphs as well as the tragedies of life revolve around risk. It is the element that breathes into the regulation of His Universe all its random fractal color and variety. After all what are the great sins of mankind but simply risks taken outside of His direction and apportion? Without faith it is impossible to please Him. Without such “luck of the Lord” it would be impossible to please us.

I have wondered what might be the most fitting way to share with you just how grateful we are as a family for what you have done in helping us as His extended heart and hands “through it all”, giving me another opportunity to serve Him and serve His world. Words cannot convey what it is like to come to the edge of death and be given another chance to get back into the battle, patched, scarred and mended as we may be.

A week ago I received a wonderful story from someone who came to a meeting put together by another young musician friend of mine as a community fundraiser for a tragedy that took place in a small town that left parents and friends devastated by death and destruction. What happened to him that night is one of the clearest accounts I have ever been given of the dealings of the Lord in all of our lives. With his permission, I share his story with you. It is encounters like this with Christ that makes serving Him such an honor. It is why all the long weary miles and multitudes of faces and places are so worth it in His service. I am spared for stories like this to happen again for others.



November 30, 2007

“On September 9, 2006, I went to Whitehaven Road Baptist Church with my wife and four school age sons for a fundraiser concert to benefit two young Grand Island men, one of whom had been killed and the other badly injured in the same car crash a few weeks earlier.

While I lived less than a mile away, a Baptist church was one of the least likely places anyone who knew me would expect to find me that night, or any night, for that matter. It wasn’t simply because I was born and raised Catholic. My mother had been raised in a Baptist home in rural Maine before she converted to Catholicism in order to marry my father, a Catholic for many generations before he was even born. So, I had nothing more against the Baptist church than I had against the Catholic churches I had attended my entire life. I simply didn’t consider any church very relevant to my life, particularly on a Saturday night.

Yes, my life at that time was, on paper and from a comfortable distance, fabulous. I had married the most beautiful and enchanting woman I had ever met and, to most casual observers, we had remained relatively happily married for 18 years. We had four sons who were born healthy and had stayed that way, excelling at both sports and academics. Neither my wife nor I had come from “money”, but after some lean years, my hard-earned law degree and even harder-earned law practice had produced material wealth beyond our expectations. We lived in a house that we had, literally, been calling our “dream home” for two years before it went on the market at precisely the time I won a big case and could afford to buy it. By 2006, all four of our sons attended private schools and my wife had been able to stop working, outside the home anyhow, when our youngest boy was born in 1999.

And as for me personally, well back before September 9, 2006, anyone who had ever been introduced to me knew within seconds of meeting me that I was – drum roll, please -- a trial lawyer. And not just a run-of-the-mill trial attorney, I assured you. I was thunder & lightning and fire & ice rolled into one. I would, modestly of course, remind all prospective clients (i.e. everyone I met and everyone they had ever met) that if you hired any other attorney to take your case to court, well, God help you. I, on the other, did not need God’s help, and neither, I believed, would my clients. As proof, I could point to a decade of “success,” particularly since opening my own law firm in April 2006. Things, I insisted without visible hesitation, could not have been better.

Of course, I guess you could say I was a bit prideful. Prideful enough to think that my wife and children should have been praising me more for my courtroom triumphs and the paychecks and purchases they produced, and complaining less about my absence from their life. And as for the drinking? Well, I had always liked “my beer” and it had never been a problem in my life before. Not really. Not as far as I was concerned, anyhow. Besides I had a very stressful career and I was entitled to a little enjoyment in life. I had new clients to drum up. I had crushing workloads and opposing counsel to deal with. I had great victories and large settlements to celebrate with my fellow attorneys. I had plenty of reasons to drink, and, hey, it went with the territory. My world and my obligations outside of my house were so big and important and pressing, that a little disappointment from the people inside my home would just have to be tolerated.

So, if it hadn’t been for Marc Scibilia and a terrible tragedy involving two of his former classmates, I never would have been at Whitehaven Road Baptist Church that Saturday night last September. My sons were fans of Marc’s music. I was -- despite my preoccupation with “my” life -- still a fan of my sons and their interest in music. As a shrewd attorney in the often cutthroat world of lawyer advertising and marketing, I was also keenly aware that the setting of a fundraiser for young men badly injured in a motor vehicle accident might prove fertile soil for me to sprinkle seeds of my renown as a personal injury trial attorney. I had previously represented a family member of one of the young men in the collision and I thought it would prove useful to be introduced around as a lawyer who knew his way around a courtroom. I was also very proud, of course, to be hand-delivering a sizable donation with my name and address on the check, in case anyone wanted to know from whom it was from..

It was a good crowd, very receptive it seemed to the concept of pain and suffering which was so often such a hard sell with jaded jurors that had not been touched by personal tragedy. So, I made my rounds for a few minutes, settled in next to my wife and sons to catch Marc Scibilia’s act and prepared to leave promptly after he finished. Now, even a fool had to admit Marc’s performance was terrific and my sons and wife were also very impressed. Out of courtesy for Marc’s preacher friend, who had come from so far away for God knows what, I decided I would listen politely for a few minutes before my family and I made a discreet and appropriately solemn exit. I thought longingly for a moment about the cold beer I would enjoy within the next half hour at the local pizzeria.

After a few minutes, however, I realized the pizza and beer would have to wait. At first, I think it was simply the New Zealand accent. It sounded kind of cool, hip and irreverent -- just like I fancied myself. And the guy was funny, you had to give him that.

But then, it got kind of weird and uncomfortable. I probably would have left except it seemed this New Zealand preacher was speaking directly to me. He was talking about people getting “lost” and how sin wasn’t something that you could turn on and off whenever you felt like it. Sin was something that didn’t get better, it just got bigger. And as it got bigger and bigger, the sinner’s world got smaller and smaller. I started to look around me, sort of nervously, wondering if anyone else seemed to think the guy was talking directly to them and describing exactly what was going on in their lives. He continued to be funny and likable, but what he was saying was not funny and I definitely did not like it.

I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t stop listening. My wife and kids were deeply puzzled by this. My wife assumed I had some harebrained marketing angle for staying. I couldn’t blame her and at the same time I would have been more comfortable if that was what I was actually doing.

Then, the guy did the unthinkable. He calls out to the men in the audience to actually stand up in front of everyone and admit they were completely “lost” and needed to be found by…..by God, of all things. By God, indeed.!

My first thought was dismissive. “Okay fella, nice show and have a safe trip back to New Zealand, but it’s time for me get off this bus. All these other guys can stay on this nutso trip to the end but I was just being polite. As a matter of fact, I should have gotten off several stops ago. It’s not like I needed this ride in the first place, I mean I am a self-made man and doing very well for myself, thank you. I have full control over my life and everything in it, and…” My own voice trailed off in my head – drowned out by the annoying Kiwi, who was now not only talking, but counting. Counting out a minute and daring a hall full of men to stand up in front of their wives and children and friends and admit they were “lost” and needed to be….what exactly I wasn’t sure. It had something to do with God, but not the one I knew. This one went by the proper name of Jesus Christ and this Winkie character made it seem somehow that the Son of God was standing at the front of the room with the speaker while at the same time slipping into the seats next to and behind me. It was definitely freaking me out. By the time the count reached 30 seconds it seemed God Himself was calling me out, challenging my manhood in front of my family. “So, you want to be a real man. A real father. A real husband. Then why don’t you just stand up, and start being the real thing instead of the big phony you’ve been pretending to be for so long.”

In my professional life, I was trained to, and completely comfortable with, leaping to my feet in front of judges, juries and rooms full of other attorneys and assorted spectators and making long, impassioned arguments without a moment’s thought or hesitation. But this was completely different. I was frozen. Terrified. My knees seemed locked in a seated position. A prideful, mocking voice snapped at me inside my head. “Are you crazy? Don’t even think about standing up. You came here to market yourself as a fearless lawyer, a guy with all the answers. Now, you’re going to stand up in front of all these prospective clients and announce to the whole room that you are ‘Completely lost!’ You will be the butt of the biggest lawyer joke of all time. You will be finished on Grand Island, if not all of Western New York. Besides, your wife and kids will see it, too..”

Yes, thankfully my wife and kids were there, too, that night. Perhaps the Tough Love God that called me out that night knew there was one sliver of living tissue left in a heart turned almost entirely to stone, and He found it by revealing to me in that instant that the fate of my children, my marriage, my life and my soul would be decided by whether I chose to stand up or stay seated when God called one last time in a New Zealand accent that advised I had “30 seconds.”

I closed my eyes, gripped the chair back in front of me and wrenched myself to my feet. Suddenly, I could see, which was remarkable because my eyes were still shut tight, out of fear that I would open them and see everyone staring at me. I couldn’t blame them if they were. I have testified to the sensation I felt that night several times in the past year, always in the same way and in the best words I can think of to describe it.

When I stood up from my chair it was like standing up from a long underwater swim in a sewer. It was no longer murky and dark. I could see everything. My wife. My children. All of my life’s true blessings seemed to shine so bright so suddenly. They were sights I had not truly seen in years and had almost completely forgotten. It was incredibly good.. But I could also see myself clearly, and I was filthy. I didn’t know how I was ever going to get clean again.

Thankfully, Jesus Christ, the Lord and Savior I never knew I had, has proven to me and my family that He can clean up any mess, heal any wound, restore any life, marriage or family, and replace the hardest heart of stone with one of reborn flesh, blood and life. Over the past 15 months, the Father, Son and Holy Spirit have introduced me to an alternative universe that I never knew existed and could not have imagined. Using His grace, the Bible, my wife’s faith and gift of mercy, and at least three different Christian church congregations -- most notably the people of Whitehaven Road Baptist Church and St. Stephen’s Roman Catholic Church for their annual Alpha course -- God has given me a real life, a real marriage, a real family, a real purpose, and a real salvation. It has not been easy and it has often been very painful, but neither I, nor my family would trade the change that God has worked for anything in the world.

After much soul-searching and prayer, I still practice law, but not at all like I used to. I realize we are all here to serve God’s purpose, and God has one for everyone, even lawyers. I am far richer for it, and, of course, I am referring to anything but money. My old prideful and selfish purposes seem foolish, trivial and embarrassing.

I believe I am, finally, on the true great journey of life, and while I am still constantly in need of God’s guidance and mercy, I know I will never be lost again so long as I keep my sights set on Him.

In ways that are truly “so God”, my family’s path has re-crossed with Marc Scibilia and his family. Through Marc, I learned that the past year has brought incredible health trials to your life. I was very sorry to hear that and greatly relieved to hear that you are recovering. I look forward to seeing you speak again someday soon.

For what it’s worth, I wanted you to have my testimony because it is also very much yours. I truly cannot thank you enough for your obedience in God’s service and the passion with which you use your considerable gifts of teaching and communication to shine God’s light into the darkest, neediest places in the human heart. – particularly mine.” - End


So, thank you all again. Your sacrificial investment of time, prayer and encouragement in our lives and ministry is something we deeply treasure. May He bless you and open new doors of opportunity in this coming Year of New Beginnings for us all –

Love in the Beloved of our souls –

Winkie, Fae and William.

Thank you Lord.

As of yesterday I was discharged from the Manukau Surgical Centre, held together with a combination of self-dissolving stitches, a large thin titanium-based mesh reinforcing me inside like some kind of internal body armor and fifty-one tiny staples holding my skin together until it heals. I have had something akin to the equivalent of a free makeover $100,000 Hollywood tummy-tuck to the envy here of my dear sister Lovonny. I was released Monday afternoon, infection-free, blood clots never developing, with a clean bill of health to finally return in a mere ten-minute trip to our little home.

Although we have been in phone contact with our dear son William and our friends Jim and Dee in Texas to let them know I was alright and the surgery was wonderfully successful, our hospital was not net-wired and I was unable to send this to post earlier.

It was gently raining as Fae drove me carefully home, with the sky an odd New Zealand island mixture of grey and blue loaded with dark and white clouds. I felt a little like Noah about to embark again from the Ark that had carried him and his family safely through the raging storm that had killed a world. The rain washed gently down the windows, helping again to make all things new and I looked out in great thankfulness to Him Who does all things well. Exit was almost the diametric opposite of the original overseas situation we found ourselves in. We had been fully filled in as to what we would need to do in recovery, the exit papers were already signed for us, and we walked out at our leisure when we were packed without desk queues, payment lines or legal drama on our own. This for me is the final surgical chapter in a six-month long odyssey that you have so graciously tracked and shared with us since mid-March of this year. To all of those friends who have faithfully prayed for us, shared with us, encouraged us and invested in this recovery, our very deepest gratitude. You have been so wonderful.

MSC is the newest, most beautiful hospital in our area and also the closest to us. James, a NZ civic engineer who is also one of Williams friends who has been with us in Texas and visited here was the one who drew up some of the plans for the adjoining Super-Clinic. It feels so unlike a hospital, with an atmosphere of light, life and help and I understand the conceptual founding of it involved also the work of a Christian.

Surgery began Tuesday morning shortly after 8:30 a.m. Our “God’s choice” surgeon, Dr. Andrew Hill had put us on his priority list, something in itself special as there have been some in our region who have had to wait more than a year for necessary operations. Andrew himself has been such a blessing to us with his down-to-earth wisdom and self-effacing humor, the very opposite of what often has come to be the mark of a genuinely distinguished and gifted surgeon, the aloof and impersonal professional like a House on steroids. During my six-day stay in recovery, I met a cheery male nurse called Paul who was currently carrying two twenty-hour a week shifts at two different hospitals. I said to him on learning of his long load “You could be a doctor in a couple of years.” He said “I wanted to be a doctor, but I passed the personality test and they wouldn’t let me.”

The one area in my operation that was a particular concern to me was this relatively rare phenomenon of ossification I mentioned in a previous blog – where stray bone cells attach to the edges of the cut tissue and begin turning that strong flexible fascia muscle into bone. It is as if the body was so keen to get healed it begins to build its own bridge across the gap. There is apparently not a large body of material on removing this. In our initial consultations, surgeons said that it would have to be looked at when the operation site was open, and decisions made then about the feasibility of its removal. Normally with unusual situations like this, you consult books about what has been done before, but what if there are no books? It was the thought behind the prayer I prayed for Andrew and his surgical team on the 7:00 am short trip from our home to the hospital; “Lord, if there is anything needing to be done outside the experience of the surgeon, give him wisdom.”

I was asked also what was for me an odd question from one of the attendants just before the surgery: “Is there any tissue from the operation you would like to save?” (Apparently a religious preference for some patients.) I said “Well yes. If they are able to remove the bone I’d like to see that.” We now have in our freezer something much bigger than I imagined that looks something like a large chicken bone and rattles solidly with thuds in the jar they delivered to us.

I noticed in the surgeons report under the procedure he had put “Creative Surgery.”

The operation took three hours, as expected despite the “creative” expedition needed. I was delivered to a nice private room with its own shower and toilet, an unexpected side-benefit for having been previously in an overseas hospital with a mandatory need for isolation procedures. I was able to keep my own odd hours without disturbing any other recovering patients and with total freedom to lay any reading and writing stuff without concern for space or security. Our marathon overseas struggle was occasion for witness once more to visiting nurses and doctors who had to review patient logs, and the quiet room became a daily procession of friends, relatives and ministries who came to see what the Lord had done for us. What would normally be an expensive or unavailable option was not only free, but necessary. Good are the strange preparatory paths of God.

Ahead now for us is a follow-up consultation tomorrow with Andrew, and then six weeks of nothing but rest to give time for the tissues to heal and join well – no weight-lifting, gymnastics, tri-athlete iron man marathons or workouts on the ab machine. (I never did these anyway.) Christmas coming then has already brought to us our greatest gift other than His Son. I have my life back, and my temple back in order, ready to recover over the next six months for the new beginnings He has for me. Thanks again all you who have loved us and thought about us over this long journey. You are special to us in His eyes.

Love in Him Who loves us utterly and amazingly –

Winkie and Fae


Posted by Israel Anderson

You know we have waited so long for some closure to this constant dealing with the consequence of the critical surgeries done in emergency situations to save my life; the continual battle to avoid system infection from an open wound more than 2-3 inches (6-8 cm) wide and over 8 ½ inches (22 cm) long, the risk of re-rupture or growing weakness

These past six months have also been an ongoing display of miracles. I am a walking, talking, singing, speaking miracle fresh from the regenerating hand of God. You who have helped us so much in both warm little ways and sometimes huge and generous gifts of encouragement and blessing; you have invested so much in our lives to make this passage so much kinder than it might otherwise have been, thank you. He has been so good to us, and often through the hearts and hands of His friends, been our benefactor.

We embark now on the final operation. As of last week, we met with the team who we believe is the one who is going to help us in this last stage of preparation for recovery.
From the beginning, I have had three criteria in mind for this last surgery that involves stitching back together the large fascia tissue that holds the muscle groups together to repair what amounts to a huge hernia running down my middle like a missing tissue tie.

The operation though not critical, and could be counted as cosmetic is not without risk. When piercing the outer shell of the body in any situation there is always the danger of admitting infection to the inner systems, and with any traumatic wound the possibility of a hematoma, or subsequent blood clots that can in turn bring on stroke, heat failure or lung embolism. Professor John Windsor the first surgeon who so generously made time for us to discuss in detail what was involved and also took the trouble to re-state simply what actually happened to me and the steps to save my life taken in Korea from the translated surgical notes they supplied said it best: “It’s not a haircut”.

In undertaking this, we are already aware of and reminded again of the risks by these great consultants we have had, but the alternative for me was hardly livable. To spend the rest of my useful life without the freedom to run, preach strongly, or even play tennis well, requiring constant extra care and clothing restraints is of course possible. I could still function and there would be no critical risks living like that. I, for one, am glad and thankful that through the prayers of the saints, the dedication and skill of those who first undertook to save me, and over it all, the grace of God, that I am still here. There are many who would perhaps be content of course, to just be alive. But I have never lived, nor ever wanted to live contented to be “just alive”. I want to be fully alive, as great as I can be for God and for His Kingdom with what He gives and graces, and until I see Him face to face, want to go to the very edge of what He wills. “Whatsoever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might.”

My Dads’ book finally came out a few weeks ago for national release here as one of the three cycling legends of our nation that span the key generations of championship competition in this world sport. Titled “Bill Pratney - Never Say Die” it is a wonderful compilation of some of the career highlights of this great and good man I had the privilege of living with and loving for more than sixty years. I have written sometimes about him, spoken often about him both in public and private and certainly missed him many times now since his death in 2001 aged ninety-two. We gave our lives to Jesus together, my Daddy and I, in a little Auckland street mission where I got in the same night a new Dad as well as new Father. He was more than a champion to me, more than a icon who was the first to be called the original “Iron Man” more than the man George Bernard Shaw on seeing him compete called him “one of the three greatest natural athletes of our time.” He also was my brother.

I never was or would be able to even come close to what he did on a bike, this man who would think nothing of getting up at 4:00 am and riding a hundred miles before breakfast on a daily training run, who won almost every major event in our nation in both speed and stamina, whose career nearly ended at 16 after a near-fatal road crash but who recovered from a coma and was still competing on an Olympic level at the Masters Games in Brisbane at 86. I probably never will, even if they have bike races in heaven.

But as I told the cyclists in attendance at the book launch, when I was in critical condition on Korea and all the major systems of my body begin to shut down and die, though I had nine tubes and thirteen drips in me to keep me alive, one thing kept on going – my heart. And I told them; “I got my heart from my Dad.”

As I mentioned in my previous blog I have thought about and prayed about what we would need for this completing surgery. I was looking to the Lord for three threads to come together for whoever might head up the surgical team. (1) A real Christian, a real child of God that genuinely knew Christ so that there would be more than one hand on the scalpel and the scissors; (2) someone who really knew their stuff, with a wide and deep knowledge of what they were doing (3) if at all possible, the operation performed as a public service instead of the somewhat costly ($8-10,000) private alternative. Both men we consulted with first met all these conditions for me; both John Windsor and Ian Bisset were part of the same team of specialists in Auckland Hospital, both with missionary backgrounds, both teaching professors, both willing to undertake this operation in the public or private sector. We learned so much from them both, and appreciated both their wisdom and personal interest in my situation.

I also had as I last mentioned, an unspoken wish; more like an unvoiced trust; that if it was really God, there would be no need to push for things, to attempt to manipulate or have to try to pull strings. While there must always be our own choices and personal responsibility for our actions, especially for those that affect our whole life and future, I believe as I have said before that living by faith is living without scheming. I believe, and have lived like this, that if it is really God, He will make it plain and put it all together for His children. He did after all say” “Seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness and all these things will be added to you.” There is always the possibility of demonic and human resistance, but the life of faith does not require striving, but trusting. We fight from a place of utter rest.

What is interesting with these godly men, is that when we first asked for some contact with those recommended to us by friends who visited me in Korea, we were unable to reach them for various reasons. Two of them were actually out of the country. The first contact was eventually made by one of these surgeons himself to us by phone, and all subsequent connections were then done on a personal and relational level. The Kingdom of God is built on friendships. We have found these men who invested time and concern in us not only to be of the highest medical standards, but with genuine personal commitment and convictions wrapped in a wisdom that transcends mere practice and professionalism. They really cared, and we are truly grateful for their help and advice.

The surgeon who will head up my operation on the 6th of November is the culmination of all these consultations and recommendations. Like his fellow-surgeons, he also has a missionary background with three years in Africa. He is likewise an experienced teaching professor who heads up his division of the surgical department. The hospital (Manukau Counties) is not only one of the newest in the country with top equipment and facilities, it is literally ten minutes away from our home, making it the closest hospital to us. And because of its location, I qualify for a public operation there, not needing a private undertaking. And because it is in a public hospital, there is at-hand an entire backup in case of complications, rather than the smaller assembled team of a private surgery.

We had our preliminary meeting last Tuesday. On that day he scheduled the surgery, another small miracle when there can be a waiting list for public surgery sometimes literally longer than a year or more. Yesterday we spent a couple of hours of preliminary operation preparations, in discussions, asked and answered questions with nice nurses and doctors. I had my height measured (no doubt in case I shrunk from this commitment) was weighed (in the balances and hopefully, not found wanting). I had my blood pressure measured (good), blood taken for tests from a highly trained phlebotamist (you ask? –from the veins), my lungs listened to (still breathing)

And oh yes – I also had an EKG. The verdict? My heart is also still good.

Thanks Dad..

We value your prayers. Surgery is scheduled the morning of November 6th Manukau Counties Hospital. Lord willing, I will spend only 3-4 days in the hospital for initial post-op recovery, and then be free to return home for the longer task of healing all over again. Remember us now, that all the time, love and gifts invested us over these past six months will be brought to a great close in this. As Dad also said “Son, its not how you begin the race that matters. It’s how you finish that counts.”

Blessings in the Beloved –

Winkie and Fae




Posted by Israel Anderson

Well here we are again on another new adventure with God! These past three weeks have been simply a blur of great blessing. We have seen overwhelming generosity from the saints in this nation in helping us with everything from broken household items to major projects on our property. It seems as if heaven opened up on us from different avenues in wholly unexpected ways and we are deeply grateful to the Lord for what He is doing.

Early in August, we were made honored guests of a great local church I had spoken in briefly before leaving for Korea that fateful March. Fae’s parents have already been recipients of their kindness for some time now, in their providing a ride for them to church every Sunday. This blessing was set up for them over a year ago by our friends Duane and Jenny Newport, when Dad Rees-Thomas became legally blind and could no longer drive. Although the church has since had a major change of leadership, the new team likewise continued this kindness and now have committed themselaves to helping us also.

This one work has been so wonderful with their time and expertise, sending out a small resource team to see how they could help us. From their investment in our lives we have a new clothes dryer, a friend from thirty years in the past who has given us time every two weeks to bring our jungle into the Divine order called a garden, a man from a Wellington team of professionals who donate time and materials to repair and fix things for a ministry who came out to help us with our leaky conservatory roof. As I look out our side window, there is now a beautiful concrete driveway stretched all the way to the footpath instead of two muddy ruts carved out by cars.

They asked Fae and I if we would like to attend a major conference they hold each year as their guests, and were accommodated by them at a beautiful new hotel overlooking the bay for the week-long duration of the ministry.

We had opportunity to meet with three of their guest speakers, Don Thomas, a worship leader from Atlanta, Ian Green, a friend of mine from Whales formerly with Youth Alive! in England, and now active in planting many churches in Eastern Europe. The third ministry guest was Bill Johnston, the revival pastor from Redding California where the Lord has been doing so many great things in their city and through his ministry. Though this was the longest time I have ever been in meetings since the surgeries in Korea, the Lord sustained me and we deeply enjoyed the ministry and fellowship of that week. To cap it off, we were signally honored by a special offering taken up for us from the convention towards providing support for us during these many months of restricted travel and sharing until I am fit and well enough again for battle. This was the largest single gift we have ever had in our ministry, taken up from among the over 200 pastors there and both national and international attendees to honor us for the many years of ministry we have spent in His service both home and abroad. Thank you so much Martin Steel, pastor of Harborside Church, as well as those attending Manifest Presence who so marvelously gave of your love, prayers and precious substance to help us so deeply in keeping our calling. We are so touched.

Following the convention, we hosted some of the speakers and international visitors at our home over the next two weeks, showing them some of the other part of the Revival Library in my New Zealand study. There are some gems of historical greatness in God on these shelves, some books more than three hundred years old and sets that show in every generation He has raised up those who listen to His voice and do what He bids.

Other internationals followed, friends and fellow-ministries coming by to see us and to encourage us together. First was a small team from the Philippines, where Fae and I originally sent 200 copies of the first Youth Aflame manual in the sixties that were able to help disciple and train three generations of young Christians. They in turn have been used of the Lord to win thousands of people to Jesus and raised up hundreds of new churches both there and abroad. I never fail to marvel at the power of the Word of God when it is put in the hands of the hungry, and what He can do when their hearts are set on a holy life-long romance with Jesus. Kelvin and Ribena Burton came from Lindale Texas for a three week stay here making our home their first port of call and bringing us a suitcase full of Texas goodies.

Last week our good friend Che Ahn from Pasadena specially altered his international ticket to spend a day with us on his way to Australia and then on to Korea. He has been a friend of many years starting from our first time with him when he was 19 and being able to help direct him to the work and ministries of some of the great saints of the past who saw revival in their time. God has signally honored Che and his friend Lou Engle in not only launching the Call prayer movement that has involved literally millions of young people in a “nameless, faceless” call to seek God for their nations, but also to raise up a wonderful church both in Harvest Rock and the H.I.M network across the globe now involving more than 2,000 churches.

Looking at him again last week I remembered how much of a risk he and his young family took in laying down a previous work they founded to pursue God 24/7. They dared believe that He could bring literally hundreds of thousands of young people together without advertised bands or speakers, just to seek His face and pray. Undaunted by the best paid financial advice they were given to not do this, that all the odds were against them, that they were wholly unknowns and unless some 80,000 kids could come to support such an event that was “just prayer” they would probably lose both their homes and church in trying to pay off such a massive undertaking as renting the Washington Mall for it. Heart in mouth, Che and Lou sought the Lord yet again, heard His clear word to “Just do it” and went ahead in faith to see one of the two largest gatherings of young people in the history of America, where more than 400,000 youth stood together hour after hour even in the rain. to worship God and seek Him.

Last week we caught up also with David McCracken and his wife Margaret, who I first met in my little office decades ago, where he as a young pastor with great dreams shared something of his passion with me. Surviving the loss of his church and Christian school where our son Billy once attended during his time in New Zealand and a major life-threatening heart attack, David has not only been a survivor, but has since been used of the Lord to encourage hundreds of churches both in Australia and other parts of the world. The Kingdom of God is built on friendship. In these and so many other wonderful weavings of love, I see the truth of the Scripture that calls us to cast our bread upon many waters, to see it come back to us having touched so many lives.

Reflecting again with gratitude on the unbelievable volume of prayer launched on our behalf during the crisis, I was reminded of how great a legacy God has given us in