Brother Kenny

 

      We were scheduled to be in Glen Carbon, Illinois with our good friend, Pastor Mark Jordon, for a tent revival. After the revival we would be heading to Indianapolis, Indiana for our annual outreach at the Indy 500 races in with No Greater Love Ministries. The push was on to get an early start. It was going to take six hours to drive to our destination, and we were looking forward to visiting with some of our good friends in St. Louis.

 

      We were so heavily involved in our preparations for our tent meeting that we somehow overlooked some very obvious things: like the condition of the tires on the trailer that would be hauling our tent. Someone had blessed us with a new set of tires for our camper trailer but the thought just never crossed our mind to check the tires on the other trailer. The tread still looked good, but those tires were severely weather-cracked and too dangerous to be pulling this 8,500 lb. projectile.

 

      Things were going well until we were just a little over an hour outside of Tulsa when Jim, who was using his half-ton pickup truck to haul the trailer, called us on the phone. He told us that his brakes where acting up and he was having a hard time stopping the trailer. We pulled off at the first exit we could find and tried to figure out what we could do to keep going, but Jim's half-ton pickup just was not powerful enough to make it happen. We were only ten miles away from Miami, Oklahoma so we decided to try to get there before the stores closed.

 

      When we started to pull out, we noticed that Jim did not follow us on to the highway. We turned around to find out what was wrong and discovered that Jim had a flat tire on the trailer. There wasn't much room on the side of the road to work so we were left with no other option but to change the tire there. After a long and exasperating experience, we were finally set to leave for Miami. Although we got an early start, things were not looking very good for us arriving in St. Louis anytime to soon. Talking with the group, we knew that for all of this to have taken place there must be a divine appointment waiting for us.

 

      We managed to find a Wal-Mart, but the tire department had already closed and all the shops in town that could work on Jim's brakes where already closed down for the day as well. We were supposed to be at Pastor Mark's church at 9:00 am the next morning to meet a group of people to set up the tent, but now us making that deadline was looking pretty dismal. The only thing that we could think of to do was to remove all of the tent chairs out of the trailer and put them in the back of Jim's truck. We hoped that shifting the weight out of the trailer would help him stop easier. My mother-in-law lived in Springfield, Missouri, so we wanted to get there where we at least knew somebody.

 

      While we were removing the chairs from the trailer, a man and his wife were walking out of the store to their truck. They approached me and asked if we were going to have a revival right there in the Wal-Mart parking lot. Laughingly, I replied that we weren't but we could if they wanted one. They seemed like very nice people, but have you ever had those moments where you really did not feel like talking? We had asked for a divine appointment and here it was staring us in the face. The circumstances where a little overwhelming for me at the moment and I was having a hard time seeing it coming.

 

      The man spoke to his wife and then told me that they had just bought a new three quarter ton pickup but thought that it was bigger than anything that they would ever need. They then offered to pull my trailer to Springfield, Missouri, which was a little over two hours away from where we where. I was surprised to say the least that these strangers would want to do that for someone they had just met, but the man told me that he wanted to try pulling something heavy with his new truck and thought this was a good opportunity. I told him that I appreciated him understanding my problem and that if I could at least get the trailers to Springfield, then I could continue on to my destination fairly easily.

 

      We hooked up the trailer to his truck and headed out. Driving toward Springfield at 10:00 pm at night, the thought began racing through my head that the only thing I knew about this man was that his name was Kenny, and that he was pulling thousands of dollars worth of my equipment behind him.

 

      Kenny and his wife, Michelle, followed us right to my mother-in-law's house. We unloaded the camper trailer and attached our truck to the tent trailer. The plan was that my twin brother, Dane, Mike, and I would finish driving through the night to St. Louis so we could be there early in the morning. We would get there by 5:30 am and get a couple of hours of sleep before everyone else arrived to put up the tent. Jim, John, and Roy would come on up in the morning to help us after they got some good rest.

 

      It was 12:30 in the morning and we were standing outside of the house when Kenny asked me just what kind of work I did. I explained that I was in full-time ministry and that I was also a volunteer chaplain in seven prisons throughout the State of Oklahoma. He then asked me if I went to the Oklahoma State Prison in McAlester, I said yes. Then he asked if I went to Death Roll and, again, I said yes. The last question he asked was a "bomb-shell" question. He asked me if I knew a certain inmate on Death roll (I prefer not to mention his name for confidential reasons). I told him that I had ministered to him a few times.

 

      Kenny then explained to me that this man had murdered his daughter and granddaughter (In this testimony I do not want to share the details of the crime other than to say it was hideous and very gruesome). As we stood face-to-face on the street, I was overwhelmed with the exchange of dialogue that was happening. I asked him, "What did you do?" He replied that he was a Christian and that he did what he was supposed to do and forgave him, but he that wanted to be standing next to the man when he told God on judgment day why he did this to his daughter and granddaughter. Kenny also said that his brother had committed suicide just weeks before this terrible tragedy and that he had been a Christian for only a short time before all of this occurred.

 

      My problems seemed to diminish as I looked in to his eyes and saw the hurt and pain there. I asked him if he believed that the chances of us standing there on the street in front of my mother-in-law's house at 12:30 in the morning were just a coincidence. We both agreed that this was a divinely appointed time set by God.

 

      I grabbed him by the hand and said, "Let's pray." So, Kenny, his wife, Michelle, Dane, and Mike joined in and we prayed, "Father we know that we have done the right thing and forgave him. In addition, we know that you have forgiven us. However, we are having a hard time forgiving ourselves. We know that we are not supposed to hate, and we are angry with ourselves for even feeling this way, but there is tremendous pain still there and we need you to help us to forgive ourselves." The tears began to flow as the pressure of all that pain began to leave and he began to receive a healing that can only come from the Father.

 

      After we prayed I told Kenny that every person that was touched by God underneath this tent would be in direct response to him helping us, and that every person that would receive from the Lord in Indianapolis at the races would also be in direct response to the fact that he had helped us to get to our destination. The tears began to flow again as the presence of the Lord swept over him once more, washing away even more of the pain that had controlled him for so long.

 

      That night was filled with such a sweet presence of the Lord that comforted us both as we went our own separate directions. He called me that next day to see if we made it to St. Louis safely. Other than being a little tired, we had arrived safely and the tent went up as planned. That morning, Dane and I drove back to Springfield to pick up the other trailer, which was a four-hour trip one-way. Needless to say, we were exhausted and looking forward to some needed rest before the revival began, but the story doesn't end there.

 

      After a greatly successful time of ministry we were heading back home and as we approached Miami, Oklahoma, we called Kenny and Michelle to ask if they would like to join us for dinner. They said that they had already had dinner but wanted to see us and would be there shortly.

 

      Sitting at the table, Kenny told us that this was one of the greatest experiences that he had ever had. He explained that he had called his mother, pastor and another brother, and before he could tell them what had taken place, they asked him what was so different with him. They said his voice sounded so different that it was even noticeable over the phone. He said, "I met this group of men in town and helped them get their equipment to Springfield." Kenny told me that he and his wife had laughed all the way to Springfield thinking about how good God was that He was using us to help you. "Then," he added, "after you prayed for me, my wife and I cried all the way home." He said that he received something that he had been looking for but could not find. He told his mom over the phone, "I am free for the first time since that terrible incident; I am finally free!"

 

      Later on, I arrived home late one evening and caught the news channel just as it was about over. There was a woman being interviewed about a murder that had taken place, but I did not catch all of the details. As I watched the interview, I thought about how Kenny had been on my heart all day, but I had not had time to call him. I noticed that the woman was very bitter and said that she could not rest until the man that had killed her sister and her niece was executed and sent to hell. Then I'll be darn if they didn't show the person's picture that was involved on the TV and it was the case with Kenny's daughter and granddaughter. I called him the next day and he told me that the woman was his ex-sister-in-law and that day was the third anniversary of the crime. I realized then that I was going to be praying for a long time for this family. I pray that they will not let this man control their lives, even reaching out from the grave after he is executed.

 

      Kenny and I are hooked together for eternity. We often communicate over the phone or whenever we are traveling through the area. I received a call a few days ago and Kenny said that he had a meeting he was doing at the church but the band that he had scheduled canceled and wondered if we would be available. I told him, "You can count on me." Later that evening after the meeting over and as we were loading up to come back home, he hugged my neck and said, "Thank you for giving me back my life." I was greatly touched by the sincerity of this man, Kenny, and I thanked God for allowing me to be a part of his life. I know that without God orchestrating this, none of it would have taken place.

 

      So when you find that you have trouble and don't understand why, keep your eyes open because maybe there is a Kenny walking up to you to see if he can help you. Kenny has given me a greater understanding about how God loves us and will use us if we will only let Him.

 

Wayne