Ruth Graham: Recalling Father's Love

CBN.com Ruth Graham, daughter of evangelist Billy Graham, grew up sharing her father with the world. In her new book, "A Legacy of Faith: Things I Learned From My Father," she describes what her childhood was like and the valuable lessons that her dad taught her.

Seeing Daddy’s World
Mother used to say that Daddy taking his family to his evangelistic meetings was like a general taking his family to battle, so we attended very few of my father’s crusades as we were growing up. I remember going to the 1957 New York crusade at age six and being overwhelmed by the enormous crowds. Later, as a teenager, I attended the 1966 and ’67 London meetings. We would arrive at each night’s event by car with Mother or a staff person and park in a designated area. Though we remained anonymous, we sat in special seating, often with special guests, and prayed for those around us when Daddy gave the invitation. I loved the excitement, but it was only after I got married that I traveled to my father’s meetings with any regularity, sometimes working as a counselor; at other times sitting anonymously in the crowd to support and pray for those going forward to receive Christ.

My father did try to include us in his work in other ways. He wrote us wonderful letters—individual and group letters—from wherever he happened to be preaching, giving us a window into his world.

“It is wonderful to be back in London again, seeing so many friends and seeing so many people that received Christ when we were here last June,” he wrote in 1966, before I joined him for the crusade in that city. “Last night the Royal Albert Hall, seating nearly 7,000 was packed to capacity, with the converts of last June’s Crusade. What a thrilling, joyous sight. How they sang! While I was preaching the Word to them I felt like they were little birds in the nest opening their mouths and taking in the food that was being offered.”

In a quick handwritten note jotted to me from Switzerland later that year, Daddy, as he often did, asked me to pray for the work: “We are on the way to Berlin for a Crusade that begins on Oct. 16,” he wrote, “and a World Congress on Evangelism that begins on Oct. 25—Please pray for both these important events.”

Days later, from Berlin, Daddy set down this description of a haunting incident, allowing us to see with his eyes:

Then we had an experience I’ll never forget. We went to the British sector and stood upon the platform looking over the wall into East Germany. The wind was biting cold. Immediately the Communist guards shined their spotlights in our faces and began to shoot off rockets to frighten us. We stood there for about ten or fifteen minutes watching this terrible sight: The wall, the mine fields, the barbed wire, etc. I certainly feel sorry for the people of Berlin. There are so many divided families that can never be reunited because of this terrible wall.

Here was the love again, coming out in Daddy’s letter—his love for people; his love for the world; for the oppressed; the hurting; the lonely and desolate. That love seemed to touch my father’s every observation. And he brought us into the love—into his heart. We might not get to be with him in person, but through his efforts to reach out, we could enter his perspective, as if we were standing there on the platform looking out over the wall with him, watching the rockets fire into the air, mourning the mines and the barbed wire, and sharing his love for those divided families in Berlin.

Experiencing the Love
Occasionally, my father did bring us with him into smaller ministry settings. I got to travel with him as his special guest on a few trips, and while I did not spend much one-on-one time with him at the events, just being part of his world and watching him in action made me feel included. He was always gracious in the way he treated me, greeting me with a smile, hug, and kiss; introducing me to the people we met along the way. Ever the gentleman, he made me feel the lady.

When I was thirteen, he took me to the World’s Fair in New York City for Billy Graham Day; he and a crew from World Wide Pictures, the filmmaking arm of the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association (BGEA), had arranged a special makeup session and photo shoot for me. Holding my hand as we walked the fairgrounds, my father looked down at me and said, “People are going to wonder why I am holding hands with such a beautiful blonde!” I blushed, but I felt so grown-up and proud to be with him. My father’s affection built my confidence like nothing else.

Perhaps most significantly for me, when I was ten Daddy took me to a revival at a Baptist church in Florida, where our family was wintering that year. My father’s associate Lee Fisher was holding the revival in a nearby city, and Daddy attended in order to lend support. The sanctuary was small, and we slipped into one of the pews in back so as not to draw too much attention.

Near the end of the service, Mr. Fisher (“Uncle Lee,” as we called him) invited people who wished to make a public confession for Christ to come forward. The pianist was playing a hymn, and I remember feeling self-conscious standing at my seat. I wanted to go forward, but what would people think? I was already conspicuous in the little church—despite his best efforts my father drew attention wherever he went—and I did not want to make more of a scene by going to the altar. What if I embarrassed my father? I dreaded being noticed.

But whatever my fears, they passed quickly. The “yes” to go forward became stronger than the “no” holding me back. Overcoming the awkwardness, I walked to the front of the church and stood before Uncle Lee with my eyes shut tight and my head down. I could hear movement and the sound of footsteps—other people coming forward. Then, suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and recognized my father’s hand. He was standing with me there in front of the congregation. The evangelist who had invited countless people around the world to commit their lives to Christ now stood with me, his daughter, as I responded and made that same public commitment. This was how my father so often had loved the world—and now he was showing that same love to me, in the most intimate way.

Excerpted from A Legacy of Faith: Things I Learned From My Father, Copyright 2006 by Ruth Graham with Stacy Mattingly; Published by Zondervan. Used with permission.