FredMcKinnon.Com

What a blessing and honor it is that I’m available to celebrate this Special Day. I’m so blessed to have four incredible children.

I had a great day … I came home from church and took a much-needed nap, sleeping through a thunderstorm and power outage. Woke up, took the boys to see “Kung Fun Panda” which was hilarious. Came home and went with my wife to my favorite restaurant on St. Simons Island, the “Blackwater Grill” for their signature Cajun Pasta. Made it home, got the kids to bed, and watched a movie with Joy …. a great evening.

I also was able to call my Dad. I count my blessings to have an incredible Father - not just in the natural and physical realm, but in the spiritual realm as well. My Dad sacrificed so hard for me - working hard, teaching us hard work ethics, honesty, integrity, and great values. My Dad was never a “hard man” who refused to show his love or affection for me. He taught me to hunt. He taught me to fish. He taught me (and continues to teach me) about shooting and other outdoor things. He’s the one I call every year when I don’t know what bushes to cut back or prune. He’s a man’s man … taught me secrets of grilling a great steak. He also instilled in me one of the important, deep doctrines that really make someone great - that of loving the Georgia Bulldogs and Larry Munson’s famous calls.

More importantly, he taught me about Christ. My parents were settled that they’d see their children in the Kingdom of God. They poured the Word into us. They sent us to church, to youth camps. But it didn’t stop there. I will never forget those days my Dad would say “Fred, let’s get in the truck and go for a ride”. He would push the small talk aside and ask me specifically, “How is your walk with Jesus”. I always knew I could give him an honest answer. I always knew he loved me regardless.

He’s an awesome Grand Father, too. My kids love their “Pa-Pa” and go nuts to see him. He takes them on the 4-wheeler, on the tractor. He makes places for us to camp. He always makes sure his boys have a place to come and hunt or fish.

I salute you Dad, and honor you. Thanks for being an incredible model for me.

I’m praying for you today, too. (My Dad has a hernia surgery today, Monday June 16).

And to all you Fathers out there … HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!

For the KIngdom,
Fred

• Comments (7)

Hey Everybody,

Thanks to all those who prayed for our concert up at Ft. Belvoir, VA this past weekend. It was an awesome trip, and far from uneventful. You can catch some of the highlights of the trip in random Twitter updates and my previous post. Perhaps the biggest ordeal was my realizing that my Driver’s License had expired in November of last year. This morning, I’ll be going straight to the Georgia State Patrol’s office to get it renewed.

This trip was a great cultural experience as well. With the exception of Sonic Flood, all the other bands had a strong urban/black gospel sound. Even though twin sisters Mary Alessi and Martha Munizzi are “white girls”, it’s only in complexion. They are saturated with soul.

My appreciation for gospel music has soared through the roof. Bottom line … gospel musicians play far more complex arrangements, chord voicings, and rhythms than the “same-old, white/U2-rockish, pop/contemporary worship music” that we play over and over. I’ve got a degree in Music Theory yet I am sure I’d spend hours trying to “figure out” exactly that these guys were playing.

On Sunday, I stayed over and brought the Word to the congregation of the “gospel service” at the Woodlawn Chapel on Ft. Belvoir. Once again, with the exception of myself, Jay Sellers (my guitarist), his Mom, our wonderful escort, Lt. John Hunter, and a couple of others … we were the only “white folk” in that service. It was amazing. What rich culture of praising God. And let me tell you - these wonderful brothers and sisters in Christ were some of the most honoring and hospitable people I’ve ever been around. We were made to feel like royalty, and I have a deep appreciation and respect for them. I feel that I’ve found some great friends in the Kingdom and would go back in a heartbeat.

All reports are that Shannon Lewis (Associate Worship Dir) did an awesome job leading a rather mixed team of youth musicians and some of our newer adult vocalists in worship at church on Sunday. Apparently, I missed quite a Sunday - with quad baby dedications, a real pig on the stage, and Pastor David stomping around in full scuba gear.

Which brings me to today. Not only did my Driver’s License expire, but Joy’s AFAA (Aerobics and Fitness Association of America) credentials have also expired. She’s headed down to Orlando, FL this afternoon and won’t return until Sunday evening. So - just like two weekends ago, I’m “Mr. Mom”. Pray for me to have the extra measure of grace that Mom’s take for granted! I’m looking forward to some quality time w/ the kids!

Speaking of Joy … knowing we were apart all this past weekend, and now will be apart for 4 more days … we had a great date last night.

Babysitter: $35
Sharing OutBack Special and 1/2 Order of Aussie Cheese Fries: $30
Two Tickets to Indiana Jones: $18

Time together: Priceless.
We certainly don’t have nearly $85 budgeted for date night in a week. That’s way over our entire budget for a full week of “eating out, entertainment”, etc. But it was one of those times when I said “Joy, we’ll figure out where to squeeze this out of our budget later … we’re going out, period”. She happily obliged.

So, I’d love to get some discussion on this blog.
1) If you (like me) are Caucasian, what has your experience (if any) been in a more African American church culture?
2) How often do you and your babe date? Do you budget for it?

Fred

• Comments (9)

William Isaac McKinnon (born May 21, 2002)

Happy Birthday today to my 2nd born, Will McKinnon.  Will is 6-years old today.  This is a picture of him in his wild, crazy personality, hugging his older brother on the beach.  (photo by Chris Moncus).

Will is such a hoot.  Let’s see … right now, he’s in monkey stage.  This kid climbs everything.  If we go to the baseball fields, he’ll climb the chain link fence all the way to the top behind the plate if you aren’t careful.  He’s scaling walls now .. he’s tall enough to spread out his hands and feet in the threshold of the doors in our house and shimmy up to the ceiling.  He’s 100% boy - he’d rather be destructive and tear something up instead of play with it.  Give him a stick, and he’ll either make it a gun, or use it to bang into a tree, or hit something else with it.

He’s sometimes a loner.  When everyone is outside playing, it’s not uncommon for Will to wander off and do something by himself.  Sometimes that upsets Joy and I because we wonder if he’s being left out .. but he makes the choice to go be alone.  Maybe this is his God-given “bend”. We frequently ask God to show us his “bend” so that we can pray him in the right direction.

Will is a clown, big-time.  He’s so funny.  Sometimes, he’s quite the strong-willed child.  He’s not one to really open up and say what he thinks always.  If something is bothering him, he usually doesn’t speak up too much about it (as compared to his older brother, who will have a drama over it).

As I type this and look at this picture, my heart overflows with love and passion for this kid.  I’ll never forget us being pregnant with him.  As the time for delivery drew near, I was afraid - I didn’t see how I could have any more love to give, after having my first son.  As much love as we had for our first kid .. how could there POSSIBLY be anything left for a 2nd (and a 3rd, and a 4th).  With each child, our hearts doubled in size, giving us that much more love to share.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY WILL - YOU ARE AWESOME, and I LOVE YOU TONS, my CHAMPION!

• Comments (10)

May 9, 1996, St. Simons Island, GA

A dozen years … that’s quite a long time. It’s 11:11 PM EST right now as I type this, and I can tell you exactly what I was doing 12 years ago.

I’d just laid down in my bed over in Apt. W-16 of what was then called “Windsong Apartments” on St. Simons Island. It was a normal night, a normal day - but something changed all of a sudden.

As I began to relax and settle in for a great night’s sleep, my room got darker. It was as if someone covered a window - it was already dark, but now it was blacker than any black I’ve ever seen … or felt. Felt - that’s right, I could feel it. Now I’m short of breath. It’s as if I’m being choked. My heart is racing.

In my mind’s eye, I see death. I see it everywhere. I am afraid to close my eyes, because with each time I close my eyes I see mental images of those I love, but they are dead.

I’ve already been a Christian for quite some time … and by God’s Holy Spirit, living in me, I realize that this is the most horrific spiritual encounter I’ve ever been a part of. Still to this day, I’ve never experienced anything like this.

Not knowing what else to do, I just pray. I find my Bible and begin to read the Scripture aloud. I hope I don’t wake up Edward, my roommate in the next room over. Maybe I should? I fear if I lose focus even for a moment, it could be all over.

Minutes pass. Thirty minutes pass. Hours pass. I pace the floor of my small bedroom overlooking the back pool. I pray in the natural. I pray in the Spirit. I read the Word aloud. I declare the Psalms. I battle like I’ve never battled before.

May 10, 1996, St. Simons Island, GA
It’s now around 1:00 AM. This has been going on for quite some time. Just now, my phone rings.

The phone rings ….

Only one time. How could the phone only ring one time when it would’ve taken days to download the wave of thoughts and emotions coming over me and rushing through my mind as I look at that phone. Nobody calls me at 1:00 AM. This is the call. Someone I love has passed.

A quiet voice on the other side seems excited that I’d answered. It was my former Pastor and boss, Craig Walker.

(Craig) Fred, you answered on the first ring, I knew it - what’s going on?
(Me, voice shaking) Um, Craig … hey, man, I dunno, something’s up, and it’s big, I’m praying.
(Craig) Fred, the Holy Spirit woke Lezli and I up, and told us to CALL YOU and PRAY.
(Me, somewhat encouraged) Craig, I’m literally pacing the floor in my bedroom in my underwear!
(Craig) let’s pray.

And pray we did. For another 15-30 minutes. Finally, we both sensed a peace. The heaviness lifted. It was as if I’d been visited by the very Angel of Death. Or maybe I’d been given a glimpse into the heavenly realm where demonic and angelic battles happen daily, witnessing this Messenger of Death carrying out attempting to carry out his deed.

Amen.

I write in my little journal, “May 10th, something is happening, and all I know to do is pray and rebuke death. Something is going on out there”. (paraphrased, sadly, I can’t find that journal now).

Sometime early 1998:

So this incredible gal named Joy has moved to St. Simons Island. Although I knew her in college, we were only casual acquaintances who attended the same college ministry. She went to Virginia. I went to Mississippi. Now she’s in my arms, we are dating, and I’m thoroughly convinced that I’m holding the woman that God has destined to be my wife.

I don’t remember what sparked the conversation, but I share this story with her. Something inside of her won’t accept this as just another one of “fred’s stories”, and oh, there are many. This one seems special. In a cautious reaching out, Joy says “it would be cool if that prayer was for me”.

I’ll never forget my response - probably too bold and premature for a woman who’s been hurt and disappointed by love. I said “yes, maybe I was warring in the Spirit for the life of my future wife without even realizing it”.

The next day I searched and found this journal that so easily escapes me. I can’t wait to call …

(Me) Joy, what was the date … can you look up your insurance records, can you ask your mom and dad …”?
(Joy, rather quickly) Oh, I don’t have to look it up. I’ll never forget it. It was May 9.

May 9-10, 1996, Richmond, VA
Joy, living in Virginia, far away from me, from my mind, from my heart, separated from a heart breaking, broken marriage, gets that phone call.

“Joy, we’ve just gotten your blood lab results back. You are very sick. You have acute leukemia, and you may not live. You need to be in Atlanta at Emory University Hospital tomorrow. Pack your bags. Leave immediately.”

Joy’s prognosis was bleak. She had just been diagnosed with a disease that the statistics say will kill her at any time. If the disease doesn’t kill her, the treatment is just as bad.

491 miles away … and nearly 2 full years before I’d even set eyes on the woman of my dreams … God moved. He rallied. Prayers were shot into the heavenly realm like bullets. God won. Jesus won.

“by His stripes, we are Healed”. (1 Peter 2:24b, YouVersion.Com)

I praise God for that night. I praise God for the backup support of my eternal friend and brother in Christ, Craig Walker. I praise God for the Wilbanks’ family who never wavered in their faith. I praise God for my own parents and family who heard of my encounter the next morning and continued praying.

And most of all, I praise God for my wife, Joy.

For her tenacity.
I was never there in her hospital room. I never held her during nearly 6+ mos of in-and-out chemo treatments, as she wasn’t mine. I didn’t share her tears. I didn’t share her pain. I couldn’t be there to comfort her after bone marrow biopsies, losing her hair, and fighting the doubts everytime one of the people in the rooms down the hall passed on into eternity.

I’ve heard all of the stories, though. Of how she refused to be negative. Of how she had God’s healing Word taped on index cards all over her IV pole and chemo caths. Of how her Dad would preach “sunday service” in the hall for the other patients. Of how no crying or sadness was allowed in that room - only faith, confidence, joy, and belief.

Nearly (10) years of marriage and (4) beautiful kids later, I will never forget how blessed we are.

God is Good. All the time.

The next time you feel compelled to pray, will you do it?

• Comments (22)