At twenty-five years of age, I received one of my biggest assignments to date. In His mercy and grace, the Lord sent me on a mission to visit my dad and lead him to Christ. We spent the last five days of his life together. I had not seen my dad for about twenty years so my visit was a two-fold reconciliation – a reconciliation for him and I and also a reconciliation for him and his heavenly Father.
And he will turn the hearts of fathers to their children and the hearts of children to their fathers… Mal 4:6
This testimony really starts in 1997 when I was twenty-two years old. I was living with Fiona at Campwin Beach (near Mackay). We had been married less than two years when I received a phone call one afternoon that shook my world. After some seventeen years of estrangement, my dad contacted me. It was completely unexpected.
Growing up, I never really heard much about my dad. I didn't have any photos – just a few faded memories. As I grew up, whenever I saw former Australian cricket captain, Allan Border, I would think of my dad. In fact, the face of Allan Border would gradually replace the memory of my dad, Glenn Oakley. I remember, when I was eighteen years old, becoming really reflective when Allan Border dropped in to the local pub where I used to hang out.
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| Glenn Oakley |
What I did know of my dad was that he had lived a hard life and battled some demons – the same demons that his father battled and the same demons that I would end up battling as a young man. I would be still battling those same demons today, were it not for the grace of God.
And I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. I want to do what is right, but I can’t … Thank God! The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord… Rom 7:18,25
After I received the phone call from my dad in 1997, we wrote to each other and exchanged photos. Dad confessed he wasn’t much of a letter writer but he welcomed me to call him anytime. Sadly I didn’t take him up on that offer. In 1999, I reconnected with dad by sending him an email. He was rapt to hear from me and we started emailing each other occasionally. He was especially excited when Anna was born in March 2000. We proceeded slowly with our relationship. Dad never pushed the relationship – he let me set the pace. Sadly, I still didn’t pick up the phone. Not only did I find it difficult to pick up the phone, I assumed we had many years ahead of us.
One day, I received an email from dad.
“I’m okay. A few problems but we shall overcome.”
The email four days later was more sombre.
“Anyhow my small health problem is not so small. I’ve been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, it’s not a good one I’m afraid…this moves quickly…I can only hope for the best but expect the worst. Anna will be the joy of your life so bathe her in love. Give my love to all…”
A lump – the size of a cricket ball – had come up on dad’s shoulder and doctors discovered that his body was riddled with cancer. Despite being an excellent golfer and a keen bodysurfer – in his own words, “the fittest bloke in the street” – I guess dad’s hard living had finally caught up with him. As a painter he had also been exposed for a long time to dangerous fumes and chemicals. And I think the pain of broken relationships weighed heavily on him over the years.
The last email I ever received from dad simply read:
“I start chemotherapy tomorrow (fri) and we see what happens from here. Love Glenn”
Within seven weeks of receiving that email, my dad was dead. But not before our gracious Lord Jesus would give me the awesome privilege of leading him Home to his Heavenly Father.
And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, "How beautiful are the feet of those who preach good news!" Rom 10:15
The doctors told dad that he had about twelve months to live. However, just six weeks after he began chemotherapy, I received a phone call from my aunt (also estranged) telling me that my dad was very sick. She said my dad probably only had about two days to live! I was shell-shocked. I finally picked up the phone and called dad. This from my diary at the time:
“I rang dad … and could hardly speak. I cried and told him I’d try and get down to see him. I told him the Gospel. I told him there was a central theme that ran through the Old and New Testaments and that it was the person of Jesus Christ – the One in whom he must put his trust. He said to me, ‘If that’s the truth, Dylan, it will be revealed to me at the right time.’ He said he didn’t like hearing me upset and that he should go as he could see the call was ‘breaking me up.’”
This all happened while we were having dinner at home with our pastor, Tony, and his wife, Judy, from the local Presbyterian church. They would prove to be a source of great strength and wisdom over the coming weeks. I booked a flight and prepared to head to Sydney to see my dad.
I was nervous about meeting my dad in person after all these years and I hadn't come face-to-face with death before. I sat in the airport searching the Scriptures for comfort and assurance and the Lord gave me a word from Exodus that I would repeat aloud as I travelled to meet my dad. It was God’s assurance to Moses when he went to see Pharaoh and it became mine in a powerful way.
Now therefore go, and I will be with thy mouth, and teach thee what thou shalt say. Ex 4:12
When I arrived at the hospital in Sydney, my dad was in his own room in the palliative care unit. We embraced each other and began the process of reconciliation.
He gave me his golf clubs and his guitar. Over the next few days we talked and laughed and made the most of our time together. He showed me some photos that he had of the two of us.
I was also reunited with my granddad and my aunt and uncle. One afternoon we drew a family tree together and looked at old photos so I could learn something of my ancestry. At one point dad reflected and said to me, “A couple of games of golf and some fishing together would have done wonders.” Dad’s decline was rapid – his kidneys had shut down and he told me that with every sip of water, death was closer. I watched him degenerate from being able to show me how to swing his driver (“swing slowly and follow right through”) to laying on his bed, only able to move his eyebrows and his hand very slightly. I held his hand all the time. I prayed for him, talked with him, hugged him, cried on him, and loved him the best I could. I began calling him, “Dad” again for the first time in close to twenty years.
At various times in that hospital room, I shared the Gospel with dad. He was always responsive. I didn’t have faith at that time for dad’s healing but, praise God, I was well-versed in the message of reconciliation (2 Cor 5:18). On Wednesday, 14th June 2000, my dad died – the day after he received Jesus Christ as his Lord and Saviour.
Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in Me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in Me shall never die. Do you believe this?” Jn 11:25-26
This from my diary on Tuesday, 13th June:
I said to [my aunt] Carole, “Please shut the door. I want to show Dad a couple of Scriptures.” I got the Bible and opened to Romans 10:9-13 and read the passage to him. I said, “This passage says you must accept Christ to be saved.” I got emotional at this stage. I said, “I’ve got nothing else to give you, Dad. Do you accept Christ, Dad? Do you receive Him?” I was holding both his hands. He nodded and grunted twice clearly. I said, “God accepted Christ’s sacrifice, we need to accept it.” I continued reading verses 14 and 15 and said, “I’m the one sent to preach to you. You are hearing the good news.” He patted my hand and said, “Amen, Amen.” I said, “Amen” as well and then lowered my head on him and cried. His eyes were teary for the first time. I said, “You’re right now, Dad. No sweat. You hold onto Jesus Christ and He’ll see you through.” He nodded. “No sweat,” I said a couple of times and he nodded. I could hear my aunt, Carole, crying. I felt exhilarated at this stage and read Revelation 21:1-6. I said, “You drink of that water, Dad.” I then read 2 Corinthians 5 (bits and pieces).
As I left the room that day, I assured my dad that I would see him again. “It’s not over,” I said, “I’ll see you again.” He said, “Good-bye” and waved one last time. I patted his shoulder and said, “You’ll be right.”
The following evening my dad passed over. I know I’ll see him one day in glory. Sitting in my room in Sydney, my daily devotional reading for Wednesday, 14 June 2000 was profoundly applicable. It was titled, ‘Ambassadors of reconciliation’ and began with the words, “Sit quietly for a few minutes and try to recall how you felt when you were reunited or reconciled with someone after a period of painful separation…”
My aunt was so moved by what happened with my dad that she asked me to take his funeral on the Friday. She asked me to tell everyone what I had told my dad. I called my pastor, Tony, in Rockhampton and he prayed with me and gave me some practical advice about taking a funeral. The chapel at Bondi Junction was full of people – most of whom I’d never met. After the eulogy and the singing of Amazing Grace, I spoke to everyone of my time with dad and shared the Gospel as I had with him on several occasions.
Praise God, there wasn't a dry eye in the place. At the end of the service I put a bunch of flowers on dad’s coffin with a card that said, ‘Dear Dad, I’ll treasure the last few days. You’re right now. No sweat. Love Dylan’
…And He said to me, “It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give to the one who thirsts from the spring of the water of life without cost. He who overcomes shall inherit these things, and I will be his God and he will be My son.” Rev 21:6-7
The next day, I flew back to Rockhampton looking forward to seeing Fiona and Anna. On the plane, I was amazed to see in The Australian Magazine (17-18 June) a photo of a funeral chapel that looked exactly the same as the one I had just been in! The photo was included as part of an article on death and grieving and the role of funeral directors. When I got home, I emailed the photographer, Nick Cubbin, and asked where he took the photo. I was not surprised when he replied, “Walter Carter Funerals in Bondi Junction.” How good is our God? Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
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| Walter Carter Funerals (Photo: The Australian Magazine) |
Of late, the Lord has been opening a great and effectual door for me to share this testimony. I know that every time I share it, the Lord continues to do a deep work in me while also touching the hearts of those listening. The sweet presence of Jesus softens the hardest of hearts. Father-son reconciliation is the very heartbeat of God – plain and simple. Be reconciled to Him today.
And he arose, and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him. Luke 15:20
Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were making an appeal through us; we beg you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. 2 Cor 5:20
