It was just over two years ago when I stood here and spoke about my dad
who had passed away on Christmas Day in 2015. This morning I would
like to say a few words about my mum, Ethel Kenny. My dad taught me lots of things
and was my hero when I was growing up. My mum however, was really the one in
the background of my life, keeping things ticking over. As a young boy
growing up in the Kenny household in Holywood I took all the things
my mother did for granted, washing, cleaning, making food, doing the shopping and generally keeping her three
children spick and span.
She was a great believer in education and wanted her children to reach
their potential. I remember well the hard time she had trying to get
me to concentrate and to do my Maths homework when I was in primary
school. To be fair ,it was hard for me as well, as my goal in life was to be like
George Best and play for Man Utd and l'd rather be outside playing
footie.
Apart from encouraging us to get an education, As a child growing up,
without realising it at the time, my mum was without doubt the one who
saw the importance of, and wanted to pass onto her children a
spiritual legacy. This legacy could be traced back to her own parents.
Her own dad was a veteran of both the first and second world war,
joining up for WW2 at the age of 45 because there were no jobs in his
home town of Newry.
My mum tells the story of her dad John going to a Salvation Army meeting
when the preacher made an altar call. My
granddad responded to the call, went up to the front, knelt down at
the altar rail and gave his life to Christ, then took his Woodbine cigarettes out of his pocket
and left them at the rail - he never smoked again.
Ethel's mum Annie, had suffered the sorrow of having two brothers killed at the Battle of
the Somme was a woman of prayer, and with a shortage of work in Newry
and low pay when you were able to find a job, had an unwavering trust in God
that he would provide for her family.
Soon after my mum was born she was dedicated to God at the Salvation
Army. Later she was involved as a Ranger in the Guides and the C.E. at
church. After she married Tom and moved to Holywood, at home it was
my mum who encouraged us to go to the wee meetings held in the
Community Centre and on the green belt areas in front of our houses
when we were very young, as well as church, Sunday School, B.B.
Bible class G.B., the Crusaders etc. If my dad was at work on a Sunday
she would walk with us from Redburn, along the Demense Road down to
the church here in Holywood and back again. She was also a Class
Leader at the church here for many years and I remember having a
church Bible study in our house when I was ten or eleven. She always
had a strong faith in God and had no fear of dying.I'm sure my mum's
prayers were a big factor in my dad becoming a Christian when he was
50.
My mum and Ruth had a little saying expressing their trust in God,
which they would repeat together during hard times- it was : 'God is
with me, helping me.' My mum bravely bore many months of pain at
the end and loved listening to the great hymns of faith such as
'Great is they faithfulness,'' It is well with my soul', 'How great
thou art' among many others.
I would like to close with a poem which I think would express her
thoughts to us about her passing.
As you love me, let there be
No mourning when I go,--
No tearful eyes,
No hopeless sighs,
No woe,--nor even sadness!
Indeed I would not have you sad,
For I myself shall be full glad,
With the high triumphant gladness
Of a soul made free
Of God's sweet liberty.
--No windows darkened;
For my own
Will be flung wide, as ne'er before,
To catch the radiant inpour
Of Love that shall in full atone
For all the ills that I have done;
And the good things left undone;
--No voices hushed;
My own, full-flushed
With an immortal hope, will rise
In ecstasies of new-born bliss
And joyful melodies.
Rather, of your sweet courtesy,
Rejoice with me
At my soul's loosing from captivity.
Wish me "Bon Voyage!"
As you do a friend
Whose joyous visit finds its happy end.
And bid me both "a Dieu!"
And "au revoir!"
Since, though I come no more,
I shall be waiting there to greet you,
At His Door.
And, as the feet of The Bearers tread
The ways I trod,
Think not of me as dead,
But rather--
"Happy,
thrice happy,
she whose course is sped!
she has gone home
--to God,
her Father!"
No comments:
Post a Comment