A Walk with Jesus

By: Rev. Danny L. Formhals Sr.

(2017)

As I write this, my step dad, the only dad I’ve ever really know, is in the early stages of dementia. He is beginning to forget things. Simple things like how to work the remote control. He is on the path to losing his short-term memory. The other consequences of this sickness are growing more and more each day. Mom told me that one night he woke up at midnight thinking it was time to go to work. My dad is 82 years old. He has lived a long time. He has been a very successful business man for many decades.

He was drafted into the Army in 1951, right out of high school and was sent to fight in the Korean War. While you wouldn’t know it, he is a proud veteran of the United States Military. He even receive a purple heart. My dad is a great man. I cannot imagine what my life would have turned out to be without him. He stepped in to help my mother raise me and my two sisters. Eventually he and my mother had a daughter of his own.

Sometimes I wish I could just go back and be that young boy again. If God would allow it, my dad would have been more appreciated. He would have had more of my respect. I would have honored him like the Bible says too. I know now that great men can easily be misunderstood and taken for granted. You see, my dad is a very quiet and personal man. This is who he is and how he has always been. From the time I was 8 years old, when he first came into my life, he was a man of few words. Mom recalls spending time with him and his own dad when she was young. For hours, hardly a word was spoken between father and son. He even called his parents by their first names. I never hear of that before.

I have often wondered about my dad’s faith. When I was burning with passion for Jesus, as a young man, I longed to share my heart and passion with dad. Sadly, the words and conversations never materialized. I couldn’t connect, it just never felt right. I didn’t know how to cross the bridge between us. The divide was huge at times and I didn’t know how to get over to his side. There are many names for the great gap often fixed between a father and son. Pain, hurt, distrust, hate, misunderstanding, to name a few. For me the gap was pride and insecurity. This brother and sister team, kept me distant and unable to ask the simplest of questions. Do you want to play catch? Will you come to my tennis match this week? As I matured, the question I wanted to ask grew stronger. Do you really know Jesus? Do you he have a personal relationship with God? If you died tonight, where would you be, in heaven? What I’ve learned about my dad is that you can’t always judge a book by its cover. With him there is much more than meets the eye.

One day, mom told me this story about an experience my dad had as a young soldier. He had kept this story to himself for nearly 55 years. If it had happened to me, I would be able to contain myself. He told her about the time he spent three weeks in a fox hole in Korea. He along with at least one other soldier would eat, sleep and stand guard there. The duo was always ready to fight at moment’s notice. They would take turns sleeping, eating and watching. If someone needed to go use the bathroom in the middle of the night, the other would need to be awakened or told, so the other could stand guard. Watching for the enemy was a matter of life and death. My dad shared about the gripping fear that plagued them as they waited and watched ready for any surprises that might arise. Very few of us can understand the trauma that war has on a young man or woman. According to mom, he came back from the war a changed man. He was much more reserved, impacted by the necessity of taking another man life; several in his case.

On one particular night, just a few days into the three weeks, something happened. Something that cannot be explained. You will either believe this story or you will chose not to. As he was taking his turn to watch, Jesus appeared and invited him to go on a walk. So, he climbed up out of the fox hole and walked with Jesus through the jungle. They talked about the war, life and everything. After a few hours he came back to the fox hole again. For the next two weeks, every night, Jesus would come. Sometimes they would talk for what seemed like hours as they strolled through the Korean landscape. Sometimes there was no need for words and they would just walk. Amazingly every night for two weeks my dad would walk with Jesus. When they were together, there was no fear, no worry about dying, just being with Jesus was enough. It was during those nightly walks with Jesus that my dad knew he would make out. He knew that somehow he would survive while so many others wouldn’t. As it turns out, he was one of the few from his class at Roosevelt High School in Fresno, California to make it home alive.

Why he opened up to mom that day is a mystery. I hope that one day in heaven I get to sit down and fully express my heartfelt love and appreciation to him; for caring, supporting and loving me while he was on the earth. I will tell my dad that his experience was not only a great blessing and an encouragement to me, but that his experience in a Korean jungle in 1951 is a personal confirmation for me today. You see, my greatest desire is take a walk with Jesus too.