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Father Forgive: The Forgotten "F" Word
Di Robin Oake
Azioni libro
Inizia a leggereLunghezza: 151 pagine2 ore
- Editore:
- Authentic Media
- Pubblicato:
- Jan 1, 2008
- ISBN:
- 9781850789765
- Formato:
- Libro
Descrizione
When Robin Oake's son, Special Branch officer Stephen, was killed by a terrorist while on duty, a press conference was called. A journalist asked, 'Mr Oake, what do you think about the man who killed your son?' and received a startling reply: 'I don't know the man or the circumstances but from my heart I forgive him.' Another journalist said, 'What?!' and our response may be the same. But in this powerful and moving book, Robin shares his story and the reasons for his amazing forgiveness. Using examples from his long experience in the police he explores the 'why' and 'how' of forgiveness - even in extreme circumstances.
Informazioni sul libro
Father Forgive: The Forgotten "F" Word
Di Robin Oake
Lunghezza: 151 pagine2 ore
Descrizione
When Robin Oake's son, Special Branch officer Stephen, was killed by a terrorist while on duty, a press conference was called. A journalist asked, 'Mr Oake, what do you think about the man who killed your son?' and received a startling reply: 'I don't know the man or the circumstances but from my heart I forgive him.' Another journalist said, 'What?!' and our response may be the same. But in this powerful and moving book, Robin shares his story and the reasons for his amazing forgiveness. Using examples from his long experience in the police he explores the 'why' and 'how' of forgiveness - even in extreme circumstances.
- Editore:
- Authentic Media
- Pubblicato:
- Jan 1, 2008
- ISBN:
- 9781850789765
- Formato:
- Libro
Informazioni sull'autore
Robin Oake was a policeman in Manchester whose son was murdered. He has written Father Forgive as an account of the trauma of this experience and how he was able to forgive the murders, most recently he has written Gilbert Was Wrong!
- Editorial Review.
Correlati a Father Forgive
Anteprima del libro
Father Forgive - Robin Oake
FATHER,
FORGIVE
how to forgive the unforgivable
Robin Oake
Copyright © 2007 Robin Oake
16 15 14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3
Reprinted 2008, 2010
First published 2007 by Authentic Media Limited
Presley Way, Crownhill, Milton Keynes, MK8 0ES
www.authenticmedia.co.uk
The right of Robin Oake to be identified as the Author of this Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher or a licence permitting restricted copying. In the UK such licences are issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
90 Tottenham Court Road, London, W1P 9HE
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the
British Library
ISBN 978-1-85078-976-5
Unless otherwise stated, Scripture quotations are taken from the HOLY BIBLE NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION ® NIV ® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society ®. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide; and THE MESSAGE. Copyright © 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.
Design by James Kessell for Scratch the Sky Ltd
(www.scratchthesky.com)
In gratitude to God for and in memory of
Stephen
Special Branch Officer,
Greater Manchester Police,
who bravely laid down his life to save others
Dedicated to:
My daughter-in-law, Lesley and her children
Christopher, Rebecca and Corinne; Dorothy and
Neil; my daughters, Judi and Sue, and their
respective families
and to my dear wife, Chris
CONTENTS
Acknowledgements
Foreword
PART 1: My story
Introduction: The call
1. Early days
2. Happy family
3. Tragedy
4. ‘Where were you, God?’
5. The journey
PART 2: Forgiveness – Why?
Introduction: The forgotten F word
1. Forgive and forget?
2. Isn’t it natural?
3. Consequences
4. Blaming others
5. Blaming God
6. The law and grace
7. Forgive us our debts
PART 3: Forgiveness – How?
Introduction: Help!
1. A good example
2. Owning up
3. Forgiveness and restoration
4. Love for hate
5. Getting it wrong
6. Living it
7. Transitions
Postscript
Prayers
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I am deeply grateful for the understanding and guidance of Mike Todd, Chief Constable of Greater Manchester Police, and his senior officers; the sympathetic help of Paul Kelly and his colleagues in the Police Federation, and the very many colleagues of Steve who expressed their sympathy and offered help through this trauma.
Of course, my deep gratitude to Revd Rob White and his wife, Marion, who have continued to look after Lesley and family and given counsel, sustenance, and been wonderfully good listeners. To my own pastor, Revd Jonathan Stanfield, and the leadership of our church for patience and counsel; to the congregations of Poynton, Hazel Grove, Altrincham and Hartfield churches in Cheshire and at Port St Mary in the Isle of Man, for their encouragement and prayer support.
Deep appreciation to Richard and Susan Williamson, and their musician friends who played so inspiringly as ‘Wellspring’ at the thanksgiving and funeral services.
For those who have encouraged me to write this short book and the many people who have had to listen to me speak, the notes for which have made up most of the content of its pages.
To Sheila Jacobs who, as consultant editor, has been so patient, so innovative and inspiring and without whom, together with the belief of Charlotte Hubback (Authentic), this book would never have been seen.
Finally, I am so grateful to God for sustaining us as a family, giving strength and motivation to move on and enabling us to remember Steve with so many terrific memories. May his example be a continuing challenge and inspiration to us all.
FOREWORD
It was a dark January evening and my wife and I were watching the BBC News. A policeman, we heard, had been murdered in Manchester.
‘Wonder if Steve knew him?’ we asked one another.
We learned later from my brother-in-law, Robin Oake, that the victim was actually his son and our nephew, Stephen.
It is hard to describe the shock, confusion, the grief and the loss when something like this happens, but almost incredibly – and I think I speak for all members of our Christian family – there were no feelings of revenge or bitterness. Robin summed it up for us as well as for himself at the press conference next day when he said he had forgiven the person who had done this.
Many found this hard to believe, but it is true. In this book he tries to tell us in his own words how it can be true not just for us but for anyone who puts their trust in Christ. It’s all down to the grace of God.
Forgiveness is so important for all those who hurt us as well as for those who have been hurt. At about the same time at Steve’s death, I also saw a distraught woman on TV. She had lost her son to a murderous paedophile.
‘I never can forgive him,’ she said bitterly, and my heart went out to her.
‘Poor woman,’ I thought, ‘she will destroy herself.’ And, sadly, that could be the case.
Maybe, for one reason or another, that’s where you find yourself – nursing some grudge or hurt or bitterness. If so, read on! The man who wrote this book did so from hard-won experience, with the prayer that what Christ has done for us as a family, he might do for you.
The Revd Dr J.F. Balchin
(formerly of Above Bar Church, Southampton,
Purley Baptist Church and London Bible College)
PART 1
My story
INTRODUCTION: The call
The insistent ringing of the phone gave no clue as to what I was about to hear.
Tuesday 14 January 2003. I was at home without any family. It was a cold dark evening, with a moaning gale outside. The telephone startled me for a moment; then when I picked up the receiver, I was surprised to hear Lesley, my daughter-in-law, speaking from Poynton.
‘Robin, I’ve just been told by the police that Steve’s been involved in an accident.’
‘An accident?’
‘I don’t know any more detail. He’s being taken to North Manchester Hospital. I’m just about to be picked up . . . I’ll ring you later.’
I replaced the receiver in silence, wondering what had happened.
I had spoken on the phone with my policeman son, Steve, two days before. I’d been in Manchester visiting my youngest daughter, Sue, who was in hospital. He’d mentioned that he and his Special Branch colleagues had been warned that this Tuesday would be a difficult day. He had not spoken about anything specific – that was always a rule between us – but I knew, from what he said, it would be an early start.
Lesley and I assumed at first that Steve had had an accident in his car; I thought maybe he’d fallen asleep at the wheel. (Later, we discovered he had been up since 4 a.m. and, as was his daily practice, had had a quiet time of prayer and Bible reading before going on duty. In fact, he’d called into his local church to sing to his guitar rather than wake the house up!)
Chris, my wife, was in Altrincham looking after the grandchildren and Sue’s husband, while she was recovering from surgery. So I was alone with my thoughts.
Nearly two hours later, the phone rang again.
This time, I heard sobbing.
‘Lesley?’
‘Robin, Steve’s been murdered.’
My head spun. I blurted, ‘What?’ but after that, I couldn’t speak.
Then Alan Green, later the Deputy Chief Constable of Greater Manchester Police, came on the phone.
‘Robin, I’m so sorry to have to break the awful news like this.’ He took a deep breath and told me the rest. Steve and his colleagues had been on a targeted operation. In making an arrest, he had been stabbed by one of the three suspects. Alan added that Steve had been extremely brave and probably saved the lives of his colleagues. He gave me the bare details of the tragedy. He was having difficulty in speaking; I sensed that he was in tears, just as I was.
I remember saying to him, ‘Please, please look after Lesley.’ And then, shocked, I could only pray.
1
Early days
I was born in Purley, Surrey, on 25 June 1937. Until I joined the Metropolitan Police, I lived in Hooley, a village five miles south of Purley, with my parents and two elder sisters, Cherry and Wendy, seven and two years older than me respectively. We had devoted parents who, even in austere times, provided well for us all.
My mother was a housewife. She had a trained contralto voice but was always too shy to use it except in a choir. My father was a senior executive in the then General Post Office. At seventeen, he’d won a competition to design a fully automatic telephone system; his winnings were just £5! I’ve often wondered, if only he had patented it, where would the family be now?
We saw little of Dad during World War Two, as he worked in the Underground Cabinet Office, dealing with communications for the Prime Minister, Mr Winston Churchill, and General Dwight D. Eisenhower. His hours were long and he slept in London most of the time, occasionally coming home for a day or two.
As a family, we were bombed out with a direct hit from a ‘doodlebug’ (flying bomb) which killed two of our neighbours and flattened three houses, severely damaging ours, in Church Lane Avenue. Dad was inside at the time, home on two days’ leave. Incredibly, he survived the ordeal, although he was injured. Afterwards, we went to live with an aunt in Poole, Dorset. We watched many of the preparations for D-Day in the harbour, as well as day-to-day operations of naval shipping, and Sunderland Flying Boats in and out of the Channel. Exciting times for a seven-year-old.
After the war, and back in our rebuilt house in Surrey, my childhood took me to Chipstead Church to sing in the choir and ring bells for the services. It was worth 7/6d (37½p) a Sunday. I also went to Sunday school but was asked to leave after misbehaving. I believe the last straw in my catalogue of bad behaviour was to tie a girl’s plaits to the back of a chair. This caused quite a rumpus when she stood to sing!
At about the same time, my sister Cherry came home from Nonington Physical Education College to tell the family that she had become a Christian. None of us knew how to respond to that. Although my parents sent us to Sunday school as children, they were not church-goers at that time; I think they thought they were Christian simply because they lived upright lives (although they were both ‘converted’ later on). Still, the life-change in Cherry was plain for all to see.
After my exclusion from Chipstead Sunday School, I joined Crusaders in my teens. I tolerated the Sunday afternoon Bible Class so I could participate in other activities, including sport and camps. But it was while I was a teenager at camp in Studland Bay, Dorset that I became a Christian. Until then, I hadn’t really noticed and certainly not accepted
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