My
father Ralph David Walls was born in 1918. He was one of
seven sons-rough and rowdy like their father. They tell me my grandmother was a precious Christian woman. I, the youngest
of six was born on 1963. Needless to say, He was a little
tired when I came along. We were a lot alike, and clashed on more
than one occasion. As a result, I moved out of my parent's home after graduation. Daddy acted like it didn't
bother him, he was glad to see me go. But the thing was, His
actions spoke louder than his words. He showed up more than once at
my new place! Mom told me that he wanted to make sure I had what I needed. He was a crusty old man who came up
through the Depression. I guess you would call ours a Generation Gap. His generation had to be tough! Regardless, I wanted my Daddy to be born again more than
anything else.
He
had many health problems as long as I can remember- disabled by
a stroke, heart attacks, and ultimately kidney failure resulting in dialysis three times a
week. After my dear husband broke
the news of my sister's death to him, he was so quiet. He said he understood because he
had sown many wild oats in his younger years. I've heard some wild tales about
moonshine, women and reckless behavior from my older siblings and
others who knew him then. People in area churches shake their heads when they talk of what a miracle it is that I am a Christian.
Not
long after my sister Hazel died, Dad gave up the
will to live. He made the decision to take
himself off dialysis. I told Dad, “You know what this means
don't you?”
He
replied, “I'm just gonna put it in the Lord's hands”. A tear ran
down his face.
I
knew right then The Lord was dealing with his heart for salvation. We
had to respect his decision. I would come to see him at the manor
all during that time and he gave me more compliments than he had given me
my entire 33 years! You see Dad was always critical of me, so I knew
God was softening his heart! I had been praying for him for decades. His doctor told us he would likely live only about 10-11
days after he stopped treatments. He lived for 33
days. Me, my brother Randy and my sister Lori took turns being with
him around the clock his final days. I was with him when he took
his last breath. He was almost 78 years old. His earthly belongings filled a
brown paper bag, but the witness of his conversion he left was worth more than a
King's ransom because of Calvary!
