I gave the eulogy, basically going through my last post, ‘poor boy off the farm’, but adding a few more details and correcting a few mistakes from the first written version.

Following the eulogy, one of the men of the church sang a solo of “The Ninety and Nine.” The hymn was my grandmother’s favorite, I was told by some older cousins. It was one my dad loved as well. The man who sang was our next door neighbour during our growing up years. His boys were among our best friends. Our soloist stood as the representative of several families in this little church that have had a lifelong relationship with our family – all united in Christian work, raising their children in the church and ministering to others through the church. As I looked at these now much older faces, I reflected on the grace of God represented in these life-long relationships. I counted at least five families who were connected with my parents and were workers in this church through the years – more than fifty years in several cases. There are some families in the church now that are the fruit of that labour then. It rejoices the heart to see that the labours of previous generations of Christians were not in vain in this place.

My brother, Rev. Paul Johnson, preached the sermon (he doesn’t have a church web site, but pastors the Grace Baptist Church of the Comox Valley in Courtenay, BC). I didn’t think I could hold together emotionally to preach the message myself and I have heard my brother preach funeral messages before. He is really a tremendous preacher.

His text was Ps 34.6. He tied in a story from his turn in staying with my dad in the hospital and helping to care for him in these last weeks. During that time my dad was in great pain from a broken hip and other difficulties. Paul heard my dad cry out in a weak, pain ridden voice, “O Jesus, help me, help me, help me…” This Paul related to the cry of the poor man of his text. He told us that the poor man of the text was not a man poor because of poverty or poor because of suffering, but poor in spirit, utterly defenseless and helpless in soul. Paul taught the congregation that this poor man is really all of us, and we must admit it. I had earlier given the testimony of my dad’s salvation, and it my dad’s cry to the Lord for salvation is the parallel of the cry of this passage.

The rest of the story about my dad in that hospital room is that after crying out to the Lord for help, my dad said, “… and I know you will.” This is the confidence of the believer who believes the promises of the Bible, the promise that the Lord would hear him and save him out of all his troubles.

Paul concluded the message by issuing a call to the audience to make the faith of the psalmist personal for themselves. He pointed out that my dad’s faith did no good for me, or for Paul, or for anyone else. I had to believe myself. Paul had to believe himself. All who hear the gospel must believe for themselves.

We closed the service by a congregational hymn, “Surely Goodness and Mercy,” then followed the casket out of the auditorium to my nephew’s rendition of “O Danny Boy” on the bagpipes. It was a glorious ending, although one dear wheel chair ridden long term friend of the family had to endure the pipes ‘full blast’ as she couldn’t escape the lobby where the pipes were being played.

We spent the rest of the day visiting with guests in the basement of the church. In particular several of my dad’s unsaved friends were in the service. My brother had an opportunity to speak at length to one of them, but he still quite clearly doesn’t get the gospel (or at least gives no sign of getting it). My unsaved uncle and aunt were present, along with several unsaved cousins and other friends of whom we are uncertain. We will see some of them tomorrow at the burial (too far from our home town to do it in one day). Pray that there might be some response. I’ll be seeing some of those unsaved friends next week also, so pray for continuing opportunities to speak to them.

Thanks for the expressions of concern and the prayers. We really appreciate it. I’ll return to my regular themes next week, but for now we are busy with some great opportunities to preach the gospel as we honour the passing of my dear believing dad to his heavenly home.

We will also hold a special service in my uncle’s senior citizen’s home tomorrow. My uncle spent 12 years in India, established Berean Baptist Bible College in Bangalore, pastored a church in Edmonton for many years following the India ministry, and continued to support mission work in India and Pakistan through these many years. My dad was his ‘rope-holding’ partner in this ministry. Since Uncle Jake (Dr. J. A. Johnson) can’t travel outside his home, we are going to bring the service to him.

After the euphoria of a successful procedure this afternoon, my dad is not responding well to continuing treatment. One lung is retaining some fluid, the doctor says that the only hope is to get his blood pressure up and he *might* turn the corner. The doc doesn’t sound too hopeful, however.

Dad is in the Lord’s hands. He is a born again child of the King, and the victory over death is alredy his. Blessed be the name of the Lord!

Maranatha!
Don Johnson, Jer 33.3
sent from my phone, please excuse bad thumb tpying

Well, he developed some internal bleeding. They were worried yesterday that he wouldn’t make it through the sedation – possible heart failure, etc. Lots of risk. This AM we discovered he had significant blood loss last night so procedure had to be done. The doc found a double bleeding ulcer just past the stomach and fixed it. He was quite pleased. Says Dad isn’t out of danger yet, but has a chance now.

I am here with my mom, ostensibly to support mom. Hah! She is a rock. I am the basket case.

And let me tell you, in a crisis like this you see the strength of a 54 year marriage. It is a beautiful thing.

****Dr. Frank Garlock went to Jacmel, Haiti last week to preach for the Missions for Haiti school and church. We have not had any communication from him or the missionaries since the earthquake occurred. Please pray with us that he is unharmed and that he can be a tremendous help and testimony to the Hatian people at this time. God is good and we trust Him.****

Follow the link to the Majesty site for updates.

Lois Herring served with her husband Dennis in many fields over the years. First serving in Ethiopia, the Herrings also served the Lord in Kenya, the Congo, the province of Quebec, and finally these last years in British Columbia.

Words that describe Lois to me are these: quiet, strong, modest, diligent, sacrificial, and most of all faithful. I commented to my wife in one of our trips to take care of needs these last few days that such people are the backbone of the church, perhaps the most important part of the church, and those who get the least recognition on earth.

In this last illness, Lois had some sense that she was in trouble earlier this fall, but the full extent of her illness wouldn’t come to light until this most recent struggle. And in the end, pneumonia set into both lungs so that her weakened body was just unable to overcome.

Pray for brother Dennis as you think of him. There will be many details that he will have to go through now, regardless of his loss, because it will have to be done. There is a small little church, barely begun to be planted, in Nanaimo, BC. There is the matter of a deep personal loss. So please do pray for him.

We sorrow not as those who have no hope, but we do sorrow.