FOLLOW THE LEADER

As a preacher’s kid and an "army brat," I have unique memories of the ways in which my parents served their Lord. For example, I remember the times I sat in the front pew of a chapel at Fort Benning, Ga., with my dad in the pulpit and my mom playing the organ, waiting for George Patton to come down the aisle and sit with me so the worship service could begin. It was not easy for Dad to be Patton’s chaplain.

As a 9-year-old, I remember watching my father conduct the last service for soldiers and their families at Fort Dix, N.J., when the Second Armored Division left for Europe and World War II. The families would be separated for years — some forever. I remember standing on the deck of the USS Buckner next to my dad as we prepared to leave Yokahama in the summer of 1949. The ship was flying a Chaplain/General’s flag for the first time and playing "The Missouri Waltz" in honor of my father. It had to be one of his proudest hours, but I was sobbing. I did not want to leave even for my dad’s wonderful new appointment in Washington. He put his arms around me and held me: He did not want to go either. Even from a distance of 54 years, I can still feel his love and commitment.

Blindly, I endured these events. I was there with my dad and my mom – a former Missouri farm boy and a missionary’s daughter – unaware of the presence of Jesus Christ in their lives. For all of his 79 years, my father never doubted his calling to the ministry or his responsibility as a man of God in a military uniform.

Today, when I pray for God’s guidance, I remember my parents’ faith that God would lead them to where they needed to be: He did then, and He does today!

— Carlene Reinhart

Courtesy of The Church of the Good Shepherd United Methodist