Graduated from Fike high school, in Wilson North Carolina. Graduate of Wilson, Community College. I enjoy playing the guitar, watching sports and movies.
Join me in praying daily for our nation during these 50 Days of Prayer for America leading up to our 250th anniversary on July 4. Each day, a pastor from a different state is leading us in a prayer for our country at noon ET. I encourage you to come back here at noon and PRAY!
#50Days50States50Prayers #OneNationUnderGod @BGEA
Our nation needs prayer! Join us for DAY 18 of 50 Days of Prayer for America with Pastor Dennis Watson of LOUISIANA.
Let us know you’re praying in the comments below, and go to https://t.co/kjOvqLJdJT for all 50 videos and more…
#OneNationUnderGod#50Days50States50Prayers@BGEA
“Men desperately want peace, but the peace of God is not absence from tension or turmoil, but peace in the midst of tension and turmoil.” —Billy Graham
Let’s get it clear once and for all. It’s not about race, folks. That’s a Democrat trick. It’s about CULTURE. Am I a racist? Absolutely not. Am I a culturalist? Unequivocally, yes.
If you can’t assimilate to this culture, our values, our laws, and our traditions, get out.
“We must pray that God will grant us favor with those who are watching our lives; that we will stand for the things of God without compromise, and perhaps the Lord will give us opportunities to demonstrate His power, love, and mercy.” —Billy Graham
I’m thankful that President @realDonaldTrump has called for REDEDICATE 250: a National Jubilee of Prayer, Praise, and Thanksgiving May 17 on the National Mall. I hope that everyone will come out and join with Americans from across the country for this historic event to rededicate our lives and our nation back to God. https://t.co/8VQvlEP44n @Freedom250
My seemingly healthy, strong father Daniel “Dad Timpf” Timpf died very unexpectedly on the evening of May 7 at just 69 years old.
It does not seem like enough to simply call him my father, because he was so much more than that. He was my rock, my hero and my best friend. He was loyal, funny, kind, selfless, hard-working, and so devoted to his children that it was impossible to be near him and not find yourself inspired. He was a writer, a painter, a sailor, and somehow knowledgeable on every subject from world history to literature to accounting. He was the most dependable person anyone has ever met. I always felt like, as long as I had his phone number, there was not a problem I could not solve. I needed him here with me; I am not okay, and I am far from the only person who feels this.
The birth of my son in February 2025, his first grandchild, was supposed to be a happy new beginning for our family. A family that had been already once devastated by an untimely loss: the loss of my mother Anne Marie to a rare disease in 2014 just a matter of weeks after her diagnosis.
The joy of my son’s birth was, of course, complicated by my also very unexpected breast cancer diagnosis just a matter of hours before going into labor with him. During this time, my dad did what he did best, which was to save the day. As soon as he heard about my diagnosis, he simply got into the car and started driving to New York -- making it through the tunnel just as my son was born…on the day that happened to be his own birthday, as well.
In the tumultuous time of a simultaneous new cancer diagnosis and new baby, my dad was the sole reason for our stability, rushing in to help care for our son, and returning to do so again for my double mastectomy, reconstructive surgery, and any time that we ever needed him. It was an awful, awful year… but I found so much joy and hope throughout it by watching the beauty of a very special relationship form between my son and my father. This horrible thing that was happening was creating such a very special bond between the two of them -- almost making the terrible thing worth it -- and I was so excited to see how that bond would grow.
The bond was of top priority for my father, who visited from Michigan often. I saw him last on the Monday before he died, and my son was so proud to help his grandfather push his suitcase down to the car as he left. The goodbyes were quick. Why wouldn’t they be? We would all see each other again at the beginning of June, when we would all head to Texas for my shows and to see my grandpa. We wanted to make sure that my son could spend as much time as he could with his great-grandfather. He is, after all, 93.
I was certainly not over the trauma of my cancer or having to amputate the breasts I so badly wanted to feed my son with, but the one thing I could always count on to get me through my worst moments was seeing my son’s and my father’s faces light up when they saw each other, be it during the visits or our routine morning and bedtime FaceTime calls.
That is, at least, until I had to hear over the phone from a doctor I had never met in an emergency room in the same town up north that I’d previously announced to my father that I was pregnant that my dad was dead; I would never see him again, and neither would my son. It would turn out that last year was not the hard one, after all. Rather, it was the one I would now do anything to relive. I would amputate my breasts every year just to be able to speak with him one more time, even for five minutes.
I am currently living an unimaginable horror. For many people, this is a tragic story. For me, it’s my life. I do not know how I will recover from it. I only know that I have to for the sake of what is left of my family.
@KatTimpf Kay, i’m very saddened for the loss of your father. I know what you’re going through right now. Just know that there are people out there who do care.
I pass along my condolences to you and your family.
May the good Lord watch over you and your family through this time.
I thank God for my mother, Ruth Bell Graham. She was so much fun, and she had a mischievous streak–which she might’ve passed on to me! My mother also had a great love for God and for His Word. There was nothing she’d rather talk about. And she taught God’s Word to us children as we were growing up. I’m thankful for the example she set and the seeds she sowed in each of our lives. I think of all the prayers my mother prayed for me, and they didn’t evaporate when she died—they’re still before the throne of God.
Happy Mother’s Day!
More than seven decades ago, Billy Graham held a peace rally on the east steps of the United States Capitol building, urging America to turn to the Lord in prayer. On Feb. 3, 1952, an estimated 40,000 people gathered despite the rain to be reminded that in times of uncertainty, we’re called not only to reflection, but to repentance and renewed faith.
“All you have to do is open your heart and let Christ come in,” Mr. Graham said. “Believe on Him, receive Him with all of your heart, make Him Lord and Master and King.”
Within two days, legislation was introduced in the House of Representatives and passed by unanimous vote after committee action. In April 1952, President Harry Truman signed the joint resolution into law, establishing the National Day of Prayer. Today, go to God with bold faith and pray for our nation.