The Princess on the Other Side of the World

In the late 80's, when the Disney Stores first opened, I bought and collected several limited edition statues of the Disney Characters.   The Little Mermaid was the first of these statues and was hard to get because of the popularity of the character at the time.   The statues were limited edition and made of porcelain, and were very valuable.   I had missed the Little Mermaid, but because of my connections with Disney, was able to acquire one when they were no longer available.    After buying each one I would bring it home and set it in various places in my library. 

One afternoon, my sons who ranged in ages from 4-9, decided to make Daddy's library the place to have a Star Wars light saber fight.  Using broomsticks that reenacted the famous Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader battle, swinging the broomsticks and playing as little boys do.  In the midst of the battle, Darth Vader's swing intended to cut off Luke Skywalker's hand, decapitated the Little Mermaid.   

I hate to ruin everyone's impression of me as a Ozzie Nelson father, but I lost it.  Talking of  fictional characters, in that moment I transformed from the mild mannered man that I am, into the Incredible Hulk.  My anger became so out of character for me, that my mother (who lived in the apartment above us) heard the commotion and came to the rescue of Darth Vader (aka Michael, my oldest son).   In that moment, I created a bad memory that would stay in the lives of my children forever. 

Weeks later, my wife used my Disney contacts and was able to get another Little Mermaid to replace the decapitated Disney Princess that had now scared my Ozzie image.   I did not realize how the presence of that statue affected my sons, especially Michael through the years.   For years that statue set in my library and served as a constant reminder to my children of that day.   I didn't realize the trauma the Incredible Hulk-Dad caused my sons, until I overheard my boys talking about it when Michael was in his early twenties.     

I had to remove the Princess and all her friends so that the constant reminder of this bad episode was not in my son's lives any more.   I took all the Disney statues, listed them on eBay and marked the Little Mermaid for International sale.  Over the course of a few days, the Lady and Tramp, Snow White and Dopey,  the Beauty and the Beast and all their friends found new homes.  The Little Mermaid was packed and mailed to Australia, as far away as I could  get it from my boys. 

I'm reminded of the scripture. "as far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us."   Psalm 103:12 ESV    I'm thankful my sins and transgressions are taken and removed so far away that they can never be seen again.   

I'm not alone in this… while our memories may endure, our sins and failures are washed away by the blood of Jesus Christ.   

Choose Wisely

A friend recently added me to an Apostolic singles group on Facebook. I've enjoyed connecting to others in this new world that I've been thrust into. It's interesting to see the different ways people cope with being single. Recently there was a post that I just couldn't resist replying to. One of the group members posted "Is it just me or do all women secretly hope to marry a minister?"

The topic stayed busy for several days, and it was interesting to see all the different views. Some believing it was a calling, others wanted nothing to do with the ministry, and a few that felt that they would be the help mate to their husband, regardless of his position or calling.

One group member posted this eloquent reply: … from a purely sociological perspective, with the spiritual element removed... Pentecost is a subculture, and in our subculture, we only have two types of superstars, preachers and musicians, and by extension, preachers' wives. So if a young boy wants to aim high, he aims for the ministry, and goes out to get himself his equal counterpart, a musical wife. A girl is encouraged to develop musical skills so she can have a place at the table and eventually to match up with a preacher. This is an overly simplistic explanation of the behaviors brought on by unspoken sociological structure that exist within our microcosm. So there you have it. The emperor has no clothes.  

This made me think about the culture of the church that I grew up in and the expectations that was set as a paradigm for many Apostolic young people in the 70's and 80's.   

This was my post:  

I would be more inclined that if you have the heart of ministry that you would be attracted to a minister, because you have similar passions. If someone is marrying the "role" their spouse is, it is a set up for failure.

What I'm writing here is an opinion, and should be viewed that way - the first historic part is simplified a bit to get to the meat of what I want to say.   

During the 70's and 80's the revival spirit and culture of the Apostolic/UPCI church created a feeling among the young people to strive for the ministry or marry into it to be successful. There was a feeling of "if I'm not in the ministry, I'm of little or no value". People found themselves in roles that they did not have a passion for and were not suited for. This was ultimately the cause of my marriage failure.

Being a minister is not a occupation or job, it is at the heart of who you are. It does not require a license or stamp of approval by an organization. The call of God makes room for the individual to fulfill what they are to do. I was 15 years old when I felt my calling. I knew younger than that, I would serve HIM for the rest of my life and wanted to be busy for HIS Kingdom. But at 15 is when I started praying for life direction. Bible college was encouraged and planned, and I began working with my pastor to fulfill my calling. The entire time I was in High School (Chicago Public School System), I carried my Bible on the top of my school books and knew that my ministry was not going to be post-college, but it was now (then). … skipping ahead…

At 17, I was one of the Youth Pastors and very busy with the church. When it came time to leave for Gateway Bible College, I did not have my father's support nor the money to go, and ended up staying in Chicago to save for the next school year. The church I attended was a magnet to all the other local churches, (very much like "Winds of Pentecost" - where I attend now). People drove from Saint Louis to Chicago on a regular basis for fellowship, and that is how I met Cruella. She visited from Saint Louis in October (I was 18) and we started writing and calling each other. In July we were married. Cruella was a Catholic convert, years later she told me that much of the decisions she made was simply to fit into the culture of the UPCI. One of those being "marry a minister."

I have been the pastor of two churches (one Home Missions and one established) and have served as assistant pastor, youth pastor, and over the last 10 years as an evangelist. Cruella never really fit into the role of minister's wife, not that she didn't try - it just wasn't in her heart. I felt for every few steps forward, that the lack of her truly connecting with me knocked me pack a few steps. In one of my journal entries from the 90's I wrote, "I feel like I have to work twice as hard at everything I do for GOD, because Cruella really isn't walking beside me." And now in retrospect, was never truly "one of us" aka Apostolic.

I would be more inclined that if you have the heart of ministry that you would be attracted to a minister, because you have similar passions. If someone is marrying the "role" their spouse is, it is a set up for failure. As we traveled as Evangelists over the years, and spent time with other pastors and ministers and their families... I began to see what I was missing by not having a wife with a "ministry heart." And so did she. In time, I was unable to travel with her because she was more of a hurt than a help and she was falling away from the church. I didn't hear say "curse GOD and die" quoting Job's wife, but the tone was there when she told me how she felt about my ministry and left.

Post divorce, I'm still a minister. That's who I am. I now find myself trying to reestablish myself amongst my peers (more about that some other time). Most churches don't want a divorced minister in their pulpit. I have been blessed by several districts and churches that have still had me do their camps, conferences and revivals.

In the 3rd Indiana Jones movie, while Indiana Jones is trying to make a decision of which cup to drink out of, the Templar Knight tells Jones, "Choose wisely." Indiana choose a cup and doesn't die. and the Knight says, "You have chosen well." The bad guy in the movie, chose the most beautiful cup and drank from it and died. Indiana chose the cup that most likely was something Jesus would use.

While I'm not in a hurry to get married again, I know I do not want to be alone. When I'm at church or church events, I watch the way a woman worships, and prays at the altar with others, how she interacts with her church friends. Make sure you find someone that Jesus is using!



Note: Due to the public nature of my occupation, and the fact that my writing and videos have had requests for royalties for using the names of my ex-wife and her family, names have been appropriately changed for legal reasons.

1987 Ravenswood "Birthing Room" Circus

Today is Jeremy's 25th Birthday.  I feel so young, it's hard for me to believe I have a twenty-five year old son.  It seems like just a few days ago, that I was twenty five.   Last night I took Jeremy to Red Robin to celebrate…while there I began to feel very ill, I must have looked bad because the hostess asked me if she should call 911.   We were able to get home and I was able to sleep off whatever it was.   Earlier in the day, I was at the Doctor's office for a follow-up to a work related injury, and was told my blood pressure was a little high and that I needed to start watching it because of age.  My age…it's starting to sink in.  I'm getting older… oh boy!

I remember vividly the day Jeremy was born.  Jeremy was the first baby born in the "Birthing Room" of Ravenswood Hospital (side note: 23 years earlier I was born at Ravenswood just a few feet away in another room.)  The "Birthing Room" looked like a hotel room.  It had couches and chairs, a normal looking bed, night stand and television.  The room was meant make the mother and father feel more comfortable, and the room made it possible that mother could bring other members of the family for the birth.   That's where this story gets strange! 

I've called this story for 25 years,  the 1987 Ravenswood "Birthing Room" Circus!

February 18, 1987 in Ravenswood Hospital's Birthing Room in Chicago, Illinois.

Guests to the room included: me (of course), my mother-in-law (will refer to as Mil) and one of my spouse's close friends, Sandy.   Besides the four of us in the room there are at least 10 nurses. . . all wanting to be a part of the first birth in the new room.  Adding to the frenzy is the fact that Mil and Sandy have arrived with balloons and toys, as well as engraved badges reading "Jeremy - It's a boy!" and "Tiffany - It’s a girl!"  And what is supposed to be (in my opinion) a private personal event has become mayhem.  Mil and Sandy are acting like cheerleaders and the they are pumping up the adrenaline of all the nurses around them.  My spouse is having severe back pain and is crushing my hand by squeezing it.   I don't think all of the excitement in the room is helping her.  I keep telling Mil and Sandy that they need to keep it down or they will kick us out of the hospital! 


When my first son, was born we were alone in a small room.  Breathing together, laughing together because we can hear delivering mothers in other rooms cursing out their husbands for getting them into this mess.  And now I'm surrounded by a frenzy of screaming excited women and then suddenly a nurse says it time to push.  The nurses all begin running around the room flipping panels and cabinets, pushing buttons and pulling hidden levers and it's like a scene out of a Transformers movie… the bed and all the objects around it convert into the look of a typical delivery room.   And then as fast as the room is converted, Jeremy arrives! 


Jeremy David Harrah.  Jeremy named after a friend, and David, my favorite character from the Bible. 


The blue name badges are passed out, the nurses clean him up, and take his hand and foot prints.  When I have Jeremy in my arms for the first time and I'm amazed at how much hair he has and how much he looks like my Dad, which makes me happy!  Then suddenly Mil begins commenting about how much Jeremy looks like her family and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.  He looks just like one of us, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah!  The circus goes on a little while longer.   The nurses leave, as well as Mil and Sandy.   The Ravenswood "Birthing Room" Circus has ended. 


We're alone with Jeremy.   I give Jeremy his first GI Joe and take a picture of him with it.  I'm so happy I have another little boy.   In spite of the mayhem of the circus, I marvel at the awesome handy work of God which is seen in this little boy, and think to myself how can anyone doubt the existence of the Divine Maker of all things.

Happy Birthday Jeremy! 

“I will never leave you nor forsake you.”

"... he has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”
(Hebrews 13:5 ESV)

What is loneliness? It's hard to define, all I can do is describe it. It is the underlying anxiety at having no one close, a sharp ache in a moment of grief, and an empty feeling in the pit of your stomach when there is no one is there to share victories, plans or concerns. It is a feeling of hollowness when you nee...d a warm touch on a cold evening. There is no anguish like loneliness.

But GOD has an promise for those that are lonely. In our walk with HIM, HE offers friendship, and a peace that passes all understanding. When we meet HIM, we are not guaranteed that we will never feel lonely, but he promised that we will never be alone. I'm not alone.

The Walking Dead

In my last post, I mentioned the Devil threw in one more punch on December 31st. 

The job that I'm currently working involves helping handicapped people.     I supervise a ISL home and work with 14-15 men to provide around the clock care and supervision for two men in their twenties that are mentally handicapped.  Our duties include redirection when compulsive and destructive behaviors occur as well as documentation, cooking, cleaning, providing medication and checking vital signs. 

On December 31st, I was checking one of the young men's blood sugar levels and accidently stuck myself with the dirty needle.  I immediately reported it to my company, and began to review the man's medical records for the various concerns.  I found that he had not had any of the required tests and was faced with the possibility of exposure to a blood pathogen disease. 

I started the morning of December 31st with the thought and prayer "Lord, this has been the hardest year of my life, I'm thankful you have been with me through it all, and I'm looking forward to 2012."  I thought myself, "What else could've gone wrong?"  A few hours later I found myself in a hospital getting tests and shots, thinking "The Devil had to give me one more good punch in 2011."  

What happened that morning has shaken me more than anything else over the last year.  I decided not to  disclose what happened at the time. I went to a New Years get-together and put on the best face I could, but inside I was crying. 

All I can say is that the last 21 days have made re-evaluate and question every aspect, priority and concern in my life.  

The Devil began to convince me I was as good as dead.   I have lived the last 21 days as a dead man walking.   I spent 21 days in self-imposed solitary confinement.  I avoided close physical contact with those I love.  It's was hard not to kiss my adorable granddaughter, but I was scared.  I would go to church and worship with all my heart, only to fall into despair once I was at home.   
I was trusting GOD, but was convinced by the enemy, that wars against our souls, that I was finished.

Yesterday, we received the test results back from the man's blood test and it shows no signs of disease in any form.  Praise GOD, there's no cause for worry!  I'm so thankful for this! 
During the 21 days, I fasted, prayed and talked to friends.  I came to terms with the events of the last few years.   I'm ready to move on.  I'm ready to continue to fight the good fight. Even though I exiled myself to my bedroom, and spend much of the time in solitude: I felt my GOD, JESUS with me and I was not alone!

Attention Devil: GOD's not through with me yet, I'm still in the game!   I refuse to be defined by the limitations of my current circumstances, I will rise above this and accomplish all that GOD requires of me!

2011: Chaos and the Struggle to Survive

It's been a while since I blogged.  Chaos and the struggle to survive took precedent.  Hopefully life will become somewhat normal soon.

I'm a little late writing or posting my year-end (or Christmas) letter.  While 2011 was an overwhelmingly stressful year, I'm thankful for so much.  First I'm thankful for my sons and how they've stayed by my side during all that is happened.  My buddy and youngest son, Jonathan married his artistic and talented Soul-mate Ashley.  I was honored to officiate their wedding with Pastor Tom Trimble in October. 

I've enjoyed meeting new friends and co-workers.  I was not as active as in years past with my ministry.  But I was blessed to speak at several great churches as well as minister to the children and youth of the Kansas District at their Jr Youth Camp.   I made a lot great friends there that have continued to be a blessing with their correspondence. 

I had the opportunity to really see and be a part of Saint Louis.  I spent a lot of time in Downtown Saint Louis, several events and plays at Forest Park, the Zoo and the museums.  Spent a lot time biking at Creve Coeur Lake and various events around Saint Charles. 

I started attending Winds of Pentecost in June.  I appreciate my friends at the church, especially Mark Miller and James Ready.  Thanks guys, you have helped me through a rough time.    I appreciate Calvary Pentecostal Church and Brother and Sister Russell for all their support and for being my home church for the last four years.  Brother Russell, you helped more than I can ever repay. 

In the middle of it all, I lost 65 pounds, read a bunch of books, started this blog, almost completed the Superman/Super-Conqueror book that I've been working on for years and started writing what I think will be a book about "Divorce in the Apostolic Church."

It's been a year of heartache and sadness.  The Devil even threw in one more good punch (more about that another time) on the 31st!.  In spite of it all, it's also been a year of learning and self-discovery.   

I'm looking forward to ALL that GOD has planned for me in 2012!   No matter what it is, I know ....I'm not alone.