top of page

DADDY TO THE RESCUE: You are not alone - Kenyon's Blogversation

Last night I was in the bed preparing to drift off to sleep. Today was going to be a trying day as I took my dying father to be admitted into the hospital for God knows how long. He's getting his second leg amputated and as you can imagine, it's been a rough road for him and my family. Something happens to a man and his family when a part of him gets cut off. I laid in the bed preparing my mind with the strength I would need for today as I wheeled my father into the hospital and stood by my mother's side. As I lay in bed, there my daughter was nestled safe and secure next to me (her favorite place to sleep right now at 3 years old) while J (my wife) and son were in our home office doing God knows what. The house was quiet as usual around 11:30 PM, but all of a sudden I heard the pitter-patter sound coming abruptly down our wooden-floor hallway. It was my wife carrying my son into our room. His 6 week old body was gasping for air because mucus was clogging his nasal passages and throat area. The seasons has changed, and his little body was made a victim to the cold. J matter-of-factly finds the baby nasal saline and nasal pump, then rushes back to our office trying not to be a disturbance to me. That's when I heard his gasps get louder and her frantic voice scream my name, "KENYON," she says. "HE'S NOT BREATHING!" I immediately left my sweet 3 year old babygirl safely asleep in bed to run to my son's rescue and my wife's aid. I can still hear my calm and reassuring words to my wife and son as I ran down the hallway to the office. Without seeing anything yet I announced in faith, "OKAY. I HEAR YOU. IT'S GONNA BE OKAY. I'M ON MY WAY, BABE." As I turned the corner and entered the room, my wife was doing her best but she was fighting off the spirit of fear as my son struggled to breath. I quickly picked him up into my arms and held him in a position that would allow the mucus to flow out and thus allow him to breath. "Alright, c'mon son," I coached as I encouraged my wife, "Just pump baby. Keep doing what you're doing." Strength and courage seemingly came out of nowhere and settled on J. She pumped and pumped until my son's nose and mouth was clear of clogged mucus. As she did this I continued to hold him and pat him on his back. Saying calming things to reassure the both of them that Daddy was there. Eventually both J and I were praying out loud and immediately my son caught his breath and began to cry aloud. I'd never been more happier to hear the screams of a newborn. Let me be clear, this blog is not about my son's clogged nose. And I surely didn't intend to tell you a grotesque story about a stopped-up baby. Here's the Spiritual lesson: As I went back to bed--after my son was fine--I couldn't help but think to myself how I wish I too had the strong and courageous arms of my biological father in the current times where I can hardly catch my breath from Life's whirlwind. My heart began to reflect on how awesome it would be if I could hear the voice of my father speak up with assurance and faith telling me, "You're okay son. I'm right here with you." Oh what would I have done for a moment in time when my dad ran to my rescue. But that just wasn't the case for me. Thoughts like these invaded my mind simultaneously. And right before I slipped into a minor yet functional depression and a bout of pity I sensed the Holy Spirit say, "I am what your father couldn't be. I've got you in the palm of my hand, in the protection of my bosom, and Kenyon (my son) I'll always rescue you in the times where you just can't breath because of the weight of Life's circumstances." This sense from the Spirit warmed my heart and almost brought me to tears as I was just dealing with some personal worries of my own in my head all day prior to this incident with my son. I suddenly began to feel the sense of responsibility. Here I am standing between two generations--two men--that need me. My father and my own son. Both are in need more than I am in need at this moment of my Life. My father needs me to carry him: his legacy, his dreams, his hopes, and his heart as he stares death in his eyes. My son. My son needs me to walk with him, never leave him, guide him, rescue him in the time of trouble, show him a good example of a righteous family and business man, and to position him to take over the throne one day as king. He's depending on me to give him legacy.

The lesson for all of us is this: if you are a believer, you'll never have to worry. You'll never have to wonder if someone will come to rescue you or not. If no one else will or can, Father God will. And He has been all along. That's the only way you've made it this far: by the Grace and Guidance of Father God. Like a good father, when you're in distress or in need Father God will always come on the scene when you call for Him. He'll pick you up in His Loving arms, and nurture you right back to the point where you're breathing again. He'll consistently give you Life and breath where issues will try to suck you dry. God's Love will always cover your multitude of sin. Sin doesn't just stop with the obvious: sexual sin, backsliding, drunkenness, etc. Sin means all of your hangups, quirkiness, strange proclivities, ignorance, fears, mess-ups and mishaps. Father God will cover all of this with his Love. That means you'll never be exposed to the wolves. Yes, even when you're standing between Death and Life, Father and Son. Father God is right there with you as you choose Life. Always remember that there's nothing too hard that God can't solve and give you strategy for. There's nothing too tempting that God can't shield you from. There's nothing too impossible that God can't supernaturally make happen for you. It doesn't matter the problem, worry, need, or desire. Simply learn how to call on Father God and watch Him show up for you. #Daddy2TheRescue #YouAreNotAlone Stay tuned for my next Kenyon's Blogversation...Happy Sunday!

Featured Posts
Recent Posts
Search By Tags
No tags yet.
Follow Us
  • Facebook Basic Square
  • Twitter Basic Square
  • Google+ Basic Square
bottom of page