Stephen C. McKinney Memorial Thread (1969-2001)
Moderators: deer of the dawn, Furls Fire
- Fist and Faith
- Magister Vitae
- Posts: 25469
- Joined: Sun Dec 01, 2002 8:14 pm
- Has thanked: 9 times
- Been thanked: 57 times
- Furls Fire
- Lord
- Posts: 4872
- Joined: Mon Aug 04, 2003 10:35 am
- Location: Heaven
LOL!!! "The Other Sister"...LOVE IT!! 
Hey, if you all haven't looked at the pic I put up of Stephen, you should. That's Julie with him.
Welcome Sis!!!


Hey, if you all haven't looked at the pic I put up of Stephen, you should. That's Julie with him.

Welcome Sis!!!


And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.

altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.


- Fist and Faith
- Magister Vitae
- Posts: 25469
- Joined: Sun Dec 01, 2002 8:14 pm
- Has thanked: 9 times
- Been thanked: 57 times
- Furls Fire
- Lord
- Posts: 4872
- Joined: Mon Aug 04, 2003 10:35 am
- Location: Heaven
He sure did, and he was having such a good time that night. Beautiful memories go along with that pic. 

And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.

altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.


August 2, 2001 5:18am
He came to me! Ah, the glory and grace and wonder of our Lord! I was there again, outside, along the river. Such peace as not this world has ever known abounds there. I lay along the bank and gazed up at the light that is heaven’s sky, for no doubt I was taken to heaven once more. He came to me, as I lost myself in the beauty around me, His Light glorious, His presence overwhelming. I sat up as He lowered Himself to sit on a Rock I had not noticed before. My voice left me as I gazed at His Glory. I bowed my head and went to my knees. He smiled then and said, “Stephen, why is it that you find it so easy to speak with Me when you cannot see Me, and so difficult when My Face is before yours?”
“The gift, the glorious gift of bestowing Your Presence on me leaves me humbled and speechless, Sweet Jesus Lord.”
“My presence walks along beside you always, Stephen. This you know. I lead you here to your garden, you are not a guest here.”
“And the house?”
“The house, you will enter when invited.”
“Then I will be a guest in the house?”
“No. When invited, the house will open for you, as your heart opens for Me.”
I wept then, for the meaning of the words drowned me in such happiness. “Is the house Your heart, Jesus Lord?”
He only smiled at me. “You ask Me often, ‘what wisdom do I have?’ Need you still that answer?”
“No.” I said simply into the Light that is Him. And I didn’t. I know where it comes from, I know why He sent so many to me. I know now. It came always from Him. Always. “Always from You.”
He smiled again. “Always.”
“When can I come home to You?” I asked then, weeping. My tears falling unhindered.
“When your work is complete. Soon, Stephen. Will you have Me reveal My Plan for you? What of it have you not yet seen? It is not beyond you, as you say often. It is not beyond you. Do not doubt yourself, in such doubt, you doubt Me.”
“Never!” I wailed in tears.
He smiled. Smiled and nodded, then stood. “You will come home soon, Stephen. For now, rest here in your garden. Peace be upon you.”
And He was gone. Yet not gone, the light remained and I wept in the glory of it. How long I was in my garden by the river, I don’t know. Time has no substance in Heaven. The earth’s time moves along forward, but not there. In my garden, there was no forward or backward. No progression of time, it just was. Yet, slowly the sound of the machines recalling my life invaded the light of my garden, milled in with the sounds of the river and the birds and the wind in the trees. And my body became awash once more in the pain of my disease. I left Heaven again, yet the knowledge that I will return sustained me as I awoke once more, found myself laying in my hospital bed, my face and pillow soaked from my tears. My eyes, now almost sightless, found my sister asleep in one of the chairs. I called to her. “Tracie, please wake up. Tracie.”
She, of course, snapped awake. “What is it?” She whispered as she hurried to my bedside.
“My journal, I need my journal. Jesus came to me, I must write down what He said before His words are lost to me.”
And my sister said, in all her wisdom. “The words are of Jesus, Stephen, Lost to you? They will never be lost to you. You hold them in your heart.” And she handed me my journal and my pen. She was right. The words drew out of my pen as though it was always meant to put them to paper. Never lost. Never alone. Never doubtful. My faith floods my heart, flows from my heart to my hand, from my hand to my pen, from my pen to my journal page. The words of Jesus shine from the page like beacons of light, piercing my increasing blindness. No one is blind to that light. No one.
“Surrounded by Your Glory,
what will my heart feel?
Will I dance for You, Jesus?
Or in awe of you be still?
Will I stand in Your Presence?
Or to my knees, will I fall?
Will I sing ‘Hallelujah’?
Will I be able to speak at all….?”
--from a praise song I’ve heard a few times, and can’t recall the name of it, or the ones who sing it--
And now, I will put down the pen and speak of the glorious gift that befell me this night with my sister. And she will weep as I wept, for the joy of it, the peace of it, the glory of it…
He came to me! Ah, the glory and grace and wonder of our Lord! I was there again, outside, along the river. Such peace as not this world has ever known abounds there. I lay along the bank and gazed up at the light that is heaven’s sky, for no doubt I was taken to heaven once more. He came to me, as I lost myself in the beauty around me, His Light glorious, His presence overwhelming. I sat up as He lowered Himself to sit on a Rock I had not noticed before. My voice left me as I gazed at His Glory. I bowed my head and went to my knees. He smiled then and said, “Stephen, why is it that you find it so easy to speak with Me when you cannot see Me, and so difficult when My Face is before yours?”
“The gift, the glorious gift of bestowing Your Presence on me leaves me humbled and speechless, Sweet Jesus Lord.”
“My presence walks along beside you always, Stephen. This you know. I lead you here to your garden, you are not a guest here.”
“And the house?”
“The house, you will enter when invited.”
“Then I will be a guest in the house?”
“No. When invited, the house will open for you, as your heart opens for Me.”
I wept then, for the meaning of the words drowned me in such happiness. “Is the house Your heart, Jesus Lord?”
He only smiled at me. “You ask Me often, ‘what wisdom do I have?’ Need you still that answer?”
“No.” I said simply into the Light that is Him. And I didn’t. I know where it comes from, I know why He sent so many to me. I know now. It came always from Him. Always. “Always from You.”
He smiled again. “Always.”
“When can I come home to You?” I asked then, weeping. My tears falling unhindered.
“When your work is complete. Soon, Stephen. Will you have Me reveal My Plan for you? What of it have you not yet seen? It is not beyond you, as you say often. It is not beyond you. Do not doubt yourself, in such doubt, you doubt Me.”
“Never!” I wailed in tears.
He smiled. Smiled and nodded, then stood. “You will come home soon, Stephen. For now, rest here in your garden. Peace be upon you.”
And He was gone. Yet not gone, the light remained and I wept in the glory of it. How long I was in my garden by the river, I don’t know. Time has no substance in Heaven. The earth’s time moves along forward, but not there. In my garden, there was no forward or backward. No progression of time, it just was. Yet, slowly the sound of the machines recalling my life invaded the light of my garden, milled in with the sounds of the river and the birds and the wind in the trees. And my body became awash once more in the pain of my disease. I left Heaven again, yet the knowledge that I will return sustained me as I awoke once more, found myself laying in my hospital bed, my face and pillow soaked from my tears. My eyes, now almost sightless, found my sister asleep in one of the chairs. I called to her. “Tracie, please wake up. Tracie.”
She, of course, snapped awake. “What is it?” She whispered as she hurried to my bedside.
“My journal, I need my journal. Jesus came to me, I must write down what He said before His words are lost to me.”
And my sister said, in all her wisdom. “The words are of Jesus, Stephen, Lost to you? They will never be lost to you. You hold them in your heart.” And she handed me my journal and my pen. She was right. The words drew out of my pen as though it was always meant to put them to paper. Never lost. Never alone. Never doubtful. My faith floods my heart, flows from my heart to my hand, from my hand to my pen, from my pen to my journal page. The words of Jesus shine from the page like beacons of light, piercing my increasing blindness. No one is blind to that light. No one.
“Surrounded by Your Glory,
what will my heart feel?
Will I dance for You, Jesus?
Or in awe of you be still?
Will I stand in Your Presence?
Or to my knees, will I fall?
Will I sing ‘Hallelujah’?
Will I be able to speak at all….?”
--from a praise song I’ve heard a few times, and can’t recall the name of it, or the ones who sing it--
And now, I will put down the pen and speak of the glorious gift that befell me this night with my sister. And she will weep as I wept, for the joy of it, the peace of it, the glory of it…
I sing to life
and to it's tragic beauty
to pain and to strife
and all that dances thru me
the rise and the fall
i've lived thru it all...
To my brother, Steve, who held a grace and light beyond words, God bless. I love you --Tracie
and to it's tragic beauty
to pain and to strife
and all that dances thru me
the rise and the fall
i've lived thru it all...
To my brother, Steve, who held a grace and light beyond words, God bless. I love you --Tracie
- Furls Fire
- Lord
- Posts: 4872
- Joined: Mon Aug 04, 2003 10:35 am
- Location: Heaven
That is one of the last few entries he ever made. His time was drawing near, and he was very ill. The smile on his face on that morning shone brighter than any smile he had ever given. By this time, he was skeletal and bald, and barely recognizable. But that smile was Stephen. And this visit from Jesus brought him such joy and peace.
The song Stephen quoted in this entry is called "I Can Only Imagine" by the Christian group Mercy Me. Here is all of it..
I can only imagine what it will be like, when I walk by Your side...
I can only imagine, what my eyes will see, when Your Face is before me!
I can only imagine. I can only imagine.
Surrounded by Your Glory, what will my heart feel?
Will I dance for you, Jesus? Or in awe of You, be still?
Will I stand in Your presence, or to my knees will I fall?
Will I sing 'Hallelujah!'? Will I be able to speak at all?
I can only imagine! I can only imagine!
I can only imagine, when that day comes, and I find myself standing in the Son!
I can only imagine, when all I will do, is forever, forever worship You!
I can only imagine! I can only imagine!
Surrounded by Your Glory, what will my heart feel?
Will I dance for you, Jesus? Or in awe of You, be still?
Will I stand in Your presence, or to my knees will I fall?
Will I sing 'Hallelujah!'? Will I be able to speak at all?
I can only imagine! Yeah! I can only imagine!
Peace
Tracie
The song Stephen quoted in this entry is called "I Can Only Imagine" by the Christian group Mercy Me. Here is all of it..
I can only imagine what it will be like, when I walk by Your side...
I can only imagine, what my eyes will see, when Your Face is before me!
I can only imagine. I can only imagine.
Surrounded by Your Glory, what will my heart feel?
Will I dance for you, Jesus? Or in awe of You, be still?
Will I stand in Your presence, or to my knees will I fall?
Will I sing 'Hallelujah!'? Will I be able to speak at all?
I can only imagine! I can only imagine!
I can only imagine, when that day comes, and I find myself standing in the Son!
I can only imagine, when all I will do, is forever, forever worship You!
I can only imagine! I can only imagine!
Surrounded by Your Glory, what will my heart feel?
Will I dance for you, Jesus? Or in awe of You, be still?
Will I stand in Your presence, or to my knees will I fall?
Will I sing 'Hallelujah!'? Will I be able to speak at all?
I can only imagine! Yeah! I can only imagine!
Peace
Tracie

And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.

altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.


- Fist and Faith
- Magister Vitae
- Posts: 25469
- Joined: Sun Dec 01, 2002 8:14 pm
- Has thanked: 9 times
- Been thanked: 57 times
I suppose it's not entirely unexpected that Deep River comes to mind with this entry, eh?


That's right! You tell him, Jesus!Stephen C wrote:"It is not beyond you, as you say often. It is not beyond you."

That's right! You tell him, Tracie!Stephen C wrote:“My journal, I need my journal. Jesus came to me, I must write down what He said before His words are lost to me.”
And my sister said, in all her wisdom. “The words are of Jesus, Stephen, Lost to you? They will never be lost to you. You hold them in your heart.” And she handed me my journal and my pen. She was right.

From the Bhagavad Gita:Stephen C wrote:And He was gone. Yet not gone, the light remained and I wept in the glory of it. How long I was in my garden by the river, I don’t know. Time has no substance in Heaven. The earth’s time moves along forward, but not there. In my garden, there was no forward or backward. No progression of time, it just was. Yet, slowly the sound of the machines recalling my life invaded the light of my garden, milled in with the sounds of the river and the birds and the wind in the trees. And my body became awash once more in the pain of my disease. I left Heaven again, yet the knowledge that I will return sustained me as I awoke once more...
When the senses contact sense objects, a person experienes cold or heat, pleasure or pain. The experiences are fleeting; they come and go. Bear them patiently. Those who are not affected by these changes, who are the same in pleasure and pain, are truly wise and fit for immortality.
All lies and jest
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest -Paul Simon

Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest -Paul Simon

- Furls Fire
- Lord
- Posts: 4872
- Joined: Mon Aug 04, 2003 10:35 am
- Location: Heaven
Deep River, the song? Or the novel?
That quote from Bhagavad Gita is just perfect, Fist
This thread in Stephen's honor has grown so beautifully over the last few months. It amazes me, really...and to think that Mr. Donaldson himself has even read some or all of it, still overwhelms me. And what it did for Isaiah, and others I don't know about, brings me such joy. So, to all of you who come to hear my brother's "voice" I say this: Peace to you and I love you all.
That said, I'm going to throw out a question...
Do you all still want me to post these? Are they getting too hard to read or comment on? Is interest waning? If so, just say the word and I will stop.
I don't want to push Stephen on you all, and I certainly don't want shove him down anyone's throat. He's special to me, and I love sharing him, but if it's getting too much, please let me know. It won't hurt my feelings at all.

That quote from Bhagavad Gita is just perfect, Fist

This thread in Stephen's honor has grown so beautifully over the last few months. It amazes me, really...and to think that Mr. Donaldson himself has even read some or all of it, still overwhelms me. And what it did for Isaiah, and others I don't know about, brings me such joy. So, to all of you who come to hear my brother's "voice" I say this: Peace to you and I love you all.

That said, I'm going to throw out a question...
Do you all still want me to post these? Are they getting too hard to read or comment on? Is interest waning? If so, just say the word and I will stop.



And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.

altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.


- duchess of malfi
- The Gap Into Spam
- Posts: 11104
- Joined: Tue Oct 15, 2002 9:20 pm
- Location: Michigan, USA
- Fist and Faith
- Magister Vitae
- Posts: 25469
- Joined: Sun Dec 01, 2002 8:14 pm
- Has thanked: 9 times
- Been thanked: 57 times
It is impossible to force any of us to read the thread, so that's not a concern. Do what you feel you are supposed to do. If you think it has accomplished all it can or will accomplish, or if you think that what is already here is sufficient to do more good, or if you have personal reasons for wanting to stop, then stop.
But if you think Stephen has more to say (heh), or if you find joy in sharing him with us, regardless of the number of responses, then keep going!!
But if you're taking a vote, I'm with them!
But if you think Stephen has more to say (heh), or if you find joy in sharing him with us, regardless of the number of responses, then keep going!!

But if you're taking a vote, I'm with them!

All lies and jest
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest -Paul Simon

Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest -Paul Simon

- duchess of malfi
- The Gap Into Spam
- Posts: 11104
- Joined: Tue Oct 15, 2002 9:20 pm
- Location: Michigan, USA
Steve's journal can be very intense. I think what Tracie was asking is this...Is it indeed becoming too intense? I know for me, some of his writings just flatten me, bring me to tears. His faith through all his suffering shames me sometimes. I read through some of those entries, especially those written in the last months of his life, and I feel ashamed at how much I whine when my car won't start, or how bad a cold is making me feel, or how early the kids woke me up on a saturday. I never heard my brother whine, or complain. He would smile in the face of his pain and say things like, "maybe it will be less tomorrow. But if not, there is always the next day."
Well, have to head off to work. Take it easy, folks.
Chris McKinney
Well, have to head off to work. Take it easy, folks.
Chris McKinney
- Fist and Faith
- Magister Vitae
- Posts: 25469
- Joined: Sun Dec 01, 2002 8:14 pm
- Has thanked: 9 times
- Been thanked: 57 times
Yeah, I understand. But then, she needs to remember her audience. A bunch of TCTC fans aren't likely to balk at the intensity of Stephen's writings. We're kinda into that kind of thing, whether the Stephen is C or R.
Of course, it's different for you and Tracie, since he was your brother. You get the all kinds of memories on top of all the intensity.
Hey, how's Tracie? She's been gone for a couple days. I'm afraid to ask...

Hey, how's Tracie? She's been gone for a couple days. I'm afraid to ask...
All lies and jest
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest -Paul Simon

Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest -Paul Simon

- Furls Fire
- Lord
- Posts: 4872
- Joined: Mon Aug 04, 2003 10:35 am
- Location: Heaven

I like to ask that every once in awhile...just to make sure everyone is still okay with it all.

I've been away for a couple of days because Zia has been sick, so not much time to get online.

And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.

altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.


- duchess of malfi
- The Gap Into Spam
- Posts: 11104
- Joined: Tue Oct 15, 2002 9:20 pm
- Location: Michigan, USA
- Furls Fire
- Lord
- Posts: 4872
- Joined: Mon Aug 04, 2003 10:35 am
- Location: Heaven
She's doing better
Feels like playing so that's always good.
And the countdown to baby Stephen's appearance is now at 13 days. (He's due May 11)
Let me tell ya...I'm definitely ready to meet him. He's been kicking me like crazy lately, I think he wants OUT. LOL!!! 


And the countdown to baby Stephen's appearance is now at 13 days. (He's due May 11)



And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.

altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.
~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~
~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~
...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.

