ROBERT BURNS My Fathers life was driven not by his personal needs but by his personal beliefs. He was a religious man who was not just a Sunday Christian but lived his Christian beliefs everyday, even the hard or demanding ones. He took the word of God literal. If God said if a man asks for your cloak, give him your coat also my father lived it to its fullest measure and beyond. All the way and then some. He was always poor in the flesh but wealthy beyond measure in the holy spirit. He was generous even while poor. I watched him time and time again give to the needy even while his family wanted. I remember my mom chastising him for giving away our last dollars. His reply was always, Wilma, the Lord will provide. And he did. We were poor, but as a kid you never noticed. We always ate, had clean if not hand me down clothes, and we were generally happy. I remember my father from about the time I was 4. We lived in Rice Lake, Wisconsin. My father, who always considered himself a home missionary, was starting a church in Hawkins, WI. Being a home missionary pastor did not pay the bills, so he worked at his second professional love, newspapers. As we made our way from northern Wisconsin, to central Wisconsin, and finally northern Illinois, moving about every three to five years, starting new churches along the way, I came to admire several things about my father; his intense interest in learning about the local community, and his driven purpose of bringing as many to Christ as possible. When I would get to travel with him, I observed his characteristic drive to learn if there were any Pentecostal churches in the town, and the trip to the local newspaper. Sometimes he would drive my mother to distraction by saying, Wilm, I could get a job with the local Hearald, and we can start a church. I talked with the owners of the Odd Fellows Hall and we can rent it on Sundays. The local paper is looking for a reporter. My mom would say,Oh Bob, we just moved to Cowpatch and started the church there. Lets stay and make sure the church gets going there first. The other thing he would do is ask around to find out the history behind local place names. He even submitted a proposal to a regional magazine, for a column to be titled Saw Log Sagas that contained the history behind unusual or unique local place names in Wisconsin. I cannot say I learned to hunt, fish, work on cars, or do home maintenance and repairs from my father as he was neither handy in nor interested in those kind of things. Other important men in my life taught me those things. My father was a man not necessarily physically brave, but morally a lion. When our country drafted him and his brother Darrell during the Korean war they both went in as conscientious objectors, willing to serve but not to kill. My father stayed stateside as a chaplains assistant and my uncle Darrell went to combat as a medic, received a Silver Star, and is buried in Arlington National Cemetery. My Father and his brother stood on belief and principle yet served. Throughout my life with my father I saw him time and time again stand up for, and live out, his faith no matter how difficult it was, but hesitate to take any physical chances that did not involve faith. He might look both ways four times before crossing a busy street, but he would not hesitate to engage a drunken, armed husband of a frightened church member and talk him down with kind, soft words and prayer knowing he was in Gods protection. He was truly a Warrior of God. I find as I reflect on his life I see his influence in many aspects of my life. I too have a keen interest in learning about my local community and want to know the history behind unique place names. I have all most always placed the needs of others over my own. I stand on principle and robustly live in the paths of my beliefs. Thank you, Father, I will always love and miss you.
Posted on: Sat, 30 Aug 2014 18:52:14 +0000
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