FOLLOWING HIS STEPS (a.k.a. Kissing the Blarney Stone)

My wife, daughter, grandson and I took the vacation of our lives three years ago when we journeyed to Ireland, Northern Ireland and Scotland.

One of the highlights of our trip was the well-known Blarney Castle, an edifice constructed during the 15^th century; just before Columbus discovered America. Of course, this is the tourist site where, after you climb the spiral steps to the top, you are given the “opportunity” to lay on your back, and, with your head tilted in a position it was never meant to assume, you can “kiss the Blarney Stone.” This particular gymnastic maneuver is guaranteed to provide the said contortionist the gift of eloquence.

Speaking of the spiral steps, 127 in all, which lead to the top of the castle roof, I climbed each and every one of them. And as I made my way up the winding staircase, I quickly realized that I could not plant my 9 ½ sized feet directly ahead of me. But rather, I was forced to turn each foot sideways, since each step was half as narrow as that of the average stair in our generation. And it suddenly occurred to me. Six hundred years ago men and women were as much as 6-8 inches shorter than today, and with correspondingly smaller feet; (thus the use of correspondingly small stairs).

Funny, I never gave it a minute’s thought until recently, but in the last few days I began thinking of those dear saints who have gone on before us, and the size of not their physical, but their spiritual footprints. And I could not help but think how huge they really were.

Pt. 2

I have written about the unbroken chain of the men and women of faith who, like runners on a track, have passed, as it were, their spiritual batons to the next generation throughout the past two thousand years.

I think of William Kirschke and Jerry Triemstra, my spiritual fathers. The former preached that night well over half a century ago. The latter knelt next to me, and encouraged me to say the sinner’s prayer. And I have wondered who introduced each of these good men to the Savior. Whomever they happened to be, and from where ever they happened to come, they were my spiritual grandparents. For that matter, who was it that led my spiritual grandparents to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ? Just as surely as we all have a myriad of physiological ancestors, the same is true of our spiritual forebears.

Neither William or Jerry were men of great physical stature, nor did they leave large footprints behind, but, oh, their spiritual footprints. The former was a national Sunday School superintendent of a large Christian organization. The latter was a missionary to South America. I have spoken to people who knew them. I have researched their lives. Spiritual giants both.

Who can say? Perhaps one or more of the men and women who first, or subsequently climbed the wee steps of Blarney Castle, (or another like it) were among my spiritual great great grandparents. (Some of them were certainly among my physiological ancestors).

Be that as it may. We owe them. We owe those who have gone on before us, and who have left a trail of unending, unbending footsteps. It is for us to continue walking where they left off, and serve as spiritual parents and grandparents, and role models to succeeding generations.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not unto your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your steps.” (Proverbs 3:5-6)

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending