From Lynn

I am filled with joy knowing that my dad has finished the race.  He fought the good fight, and he kept the faith, and as the end of this Bible verse says (2 Timothy 4:7-8), he loved His appearing.  “Henceforth,” it adds, “There is laid up for [him, my dad] the crown of righteousness.”  Such beautiful words of hope! Since my dad passed, a little over a month ago, this is the verse that people have shared with me often.  There are many qualities that could describe him, but the one that seems to stand out to me and to others the most, is his faithfulness.  He was first, faithful to God, which flowed down to his wife, his children, his church family, his friends, and neighbors.  I will always remember and be challenged by the visible ways this quality was displayed in my dad’s life, which has now resulted, for him, in an eternal crown.

Our family has been blessed and grateful to have had my dad in Fort McPherson for his final 4 months on this earth. Paul and my dad had been working steadily on our house renovations for two months before the girls and I arrived back in town.  My first couple weeks back, my dad and I lingered over coffee in the morning as he recounted stories of his life. These are the kind of moments with him that I treasure the most.

My dad was a significant part of the ministry work in Fort McPherson.  A dear friend once observed, “When God calls a couple to ministry, He not only calls them but their whole family.”  Our parents have been part of our work since the very beginning through sacrifice, prayer, and hands on labor.  My dad, specifically, has had a huge part by renovating our home (twice!) and by his significant contribution in the building and maintenance of the church facility, Tetlit Zheh Christian Fellowship.  We are grateful for how my dad has helped to enable our ministry here to continue by seeing to an abundance of practical needs. Beyond that, he and my mom, made incredible efforts to visit us often and to know their grandchildren despite the 7,000 km that lay between our homes.  

Paul and I were uneasy about my dad coming here this year to work again; not because he showed any illness or frailty, but simply because of his age.  Many were praying for him, and I too prayed that God would give him the strength like Caleb who said, “And now, behold, I am this day eighty-five years old.  I am still as strong today as I was in the day that Moses sent me; my strength now, is as my strength was then, for war and for going and coming.” My dad wasn’t fit for war, but he was for going and coming, and for projects.  My dad told me that he had been unsettled with our living conditions for several years and that it had been on his mind to come and help us.  The timing never seemed to be right until this past April. Two weeks later, my mom was scurrying him out the door, with supper in hand, to avoid being delayed or the trip being cancelled by pending lockdowns.  

Before he left Fort McPherson, September 8th, 2021 (the day now clearly etched in my mind), with the house renovation project nearly complete (over 90% of the interior work done) he made this comment; “We accomplished more than what is possible in such a short time.  It is remarkable what has been completed. I can leave with peace.”  Although he passed away 10 days later, I believe God did allow him to have strength like Caleb, to finish what he had set his heart to do. In his Bible, which I had the privilege of thumbing through, he marked and dated the following verse in April 2021, during a few quiet days spent in Inuvik in quarantine before the work project began.

Psalm 90:17 “Let the favour of our Lord God be upon us and establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, establish the work of our hands!”

My dad was a hard worker, but his trust and reliance were on the Lord, who has (and I believe will continue), to establish the work of his hands.  My dad’s hands have blessed us richly and many, many, others can give a similar testimony.  

I am grateful and truly blessed to have had an earthly father as I have.  Being someone with many talents, he was often pulled in multiple directions.  Despite his long to-do list, he always made time to serve in the church. My earliest memory of my dad and me, is attending a church service where he was preaching. I was less than 5 years old, sitting alone on the front pew, listening to him teach. That was a proud moment for me, to be the preacher’s daughter and I suppose that is why the memory has always stayed with me.  Throughout my childhood, he was often the adult Sunday School teacher at our church.  He prepared his lessons thoroughly, giving up his “free-time” on Saturdays. I can still picture him, sitting to a desk in the family room, and remaining there until his thoughts were clearly put down.  Only then, would he work on his own projects. My dad taught his children the necessity of knowing Christ, putting Him first in life, and demonstrated his own personal love for God, to the end.  The end...but not the end.  

One amazing and grateful realization I have had these past few weeks is the certainty of the hope we have as believers.  With the assurance of God’s Word, I have a confidence in the reality that he is truly immortal.  2 Corinthians 5:1-2 has been so meaningful to me, because it uses the word picture of a builder…which my dad was. 

“For me know that if the earthy tent which is our house is torn down, we have a building from God,” (that doesn’t need renovating!), “a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For indeed, while we are in this tent, we groan, being burdened, because we do not want to be unclothed but clothed so that what is mortal will be swallowed up BY LIFE.”

There is no doubt in my mind, that my dad is alive! After looking up scriptures of heaven, I have this picture of him clothed in white, with the name of God written on him, a palm branch in his hand, with the full knowledge of who Jesus is and what He has done for Him, drawing him into worship unimaginable. He has total peace and security as he joins those who came before him who all cry out, “Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne and to the Lamb!” His time of working has ceased. His time of wondering has ceased. His time of waiting has ceased.  He is in the presence of his Lord. 

In conclusion, although I have deeply experienced the normal realities of grief in a fallen world, longing to visit with him again, to share some little detail about life, my heart is at peace. To borrow a few words from my daughter Annah’s beautiful recounting of his last day here on earth, “the day he died, was HIS BEST DAY EVER!”

Paul and I would like to thank you for sharing in our lives and loss. We appreciate the comfort we have received by the special memories and photos that have been shared, the notes and calls of sympathies expressed, and the encouragement of the hope we have in Christ of eternal life and one day being together again.  We are so grateful for our Lord, our family, friends and the body of Christ.