James' Joy his Jamey Boy!

Still Shot 8 of a Video of Jamey Boy, my Joy!

2008-05-30T17:38:00.000-07:00

My friend Steve Isom, of SCFilms.com, converted my VHS tape to an .MPG file that I was able to import into my iMovie program and then do still shots, or screen grabs, to create the pictures here.

I will create a video, but the sound did not import with it so I have some technical problems to figure out, but a picture is worth a thousand words, and the many pictures of a joy filled boy speak thousands upon thousands of words about...

The fact that NO power on earth should separate a son from his father!

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Easter Boys enjoy Resurrection Day together

2007-04-08T11:54:00.000-07:00

Dear Jamey me boy, my beloved son,

"Hoppy" Easter! From the Easter Bunny on your belly, or from your father the former "frogman" who hopped from the porch in Mount Vernon area of Belleview of the little house your Papa fixed up and fashioned into a cute little "love cottage" for your Mama years before you were given by God the Father to bless me and I pray someday, this world.

Can't keep my self from saying about this photo of us together in a.d. 1999, "Jamey, YOU are such a cute kid! Bundles of hugs and kisses to you my boy. Our Father God knows how much I love you!"

As described in a post below, you were born a month pre-mature, and suffered baby jaundice so had a special respirator at our home your first days and weeks until you became healthy enough to do without it. Then months later after breast feeding was stopped, we discovered you were allergic to cow's milk with the symptoms being misdiagnosed as "asthma". You suffered 8 breathing attacks in 5 months until my reading and research discovered the likely problem and so I switched you to Soy Milk formula, and almost immediately the "asthma" attacks stopped so you had no more for the next 12 months while I was working from our home and providing your daily care.

Three days ago my son you had your 9th birthday, and sadly, I was not invited to be with you on that day, or many other special days over the past six years. Yet, son, know that when our time together is "Resurrected", every day will be special, every day a joy.

I pray this Resurrection Son-Day for you my beloved boy, and for all boys and girls to have the blessing of being with both their parents together on this Holy Day and every day of the year.

On "Easter Son-day" in the Year of Our Lord Jesus 1998, a week after you were born on Palm Son-day, your Mama was back in front of the church leading the choir and your PaPa was at our home together with you. Jamey, know that Jamey is the Scot nickname for James, your Christian name. And Jamey, know too, that your PaPa is named for the last of the Scot Covenanters martyred for their fervent faith in Jesus, the Reverend James Renwick, who died in a.d. 1688 at age 26, who once wrote "Let us be Lions in God's cause, and Lambs in our own." Also know, my "little lamb", you are named for your father James Renwick Manship, Sr., so you are James Renwick Manship, Jr. -- James One and James Two.

In Our Father's Word, James 1:2 says, "Count all joy your trials and tribulations..." and James 1:4 "for it leads to a perfecting of the faith." As your father, I pray that your faith is being perfected while we are separated from one another. Always have faith, know in the core of your heart, that your father and Our Father both love you with every cell of their being.

As I cradled you in my arms, I had our "Red Renwick Bible" Grandmother Ruth Renwick Dunlop Conger's King James Version study Bible balanced on my knees from which I read to you the entire Bible book of the Gospel according to Saint Luke, Chapters 1 through 24 which includes the Resurrection Story. I read it with faithful fervor, and you listened, not falling asleep, just reveling in the embrace of your father's voice reading Our Father's Word. You are such a beautiful Child of God my son, as every child is, especially in the eyes of a loving PaPa.

Son, your "mother's milk" as a tiny infant was your Father's Word, the Holy Bible. His son Jesus is the "Living Water", the Truth, the Light, and even the "Air that I Breathe." I pray this day, this Resurrection Son-day, that the same Spirit will enfuse your life as Our Father in Heaven prepares you to make a difference in God's World.

Love, your PaPa, (PaPa, is short for Pater Patrae, or "father of His country", and like George Washington was THE "father of His country", I and many other patriot PaPa's are "fathers of His country", where "His" does not refer to GW or George Washington, rather "His" refers to Jesus the Christ, the Son of God, the Lord and Savior of Man, where Man as defined by Genesis 1:27 includes male and female, and from the birth of Jesus the birth of America is measured in the last paragraph of "tHis Constitution FOR the United States of America".)

In GW - God's Will and His Son's service,

"Jamey GW"

"Adoring Dad" verb & adjective = WordsManship

2006-12-25T00:08:00.000-08:00

Dear Jamey boy, my joy,

Here is a scan of a paper printed copy of an original photo. The original video and still frame photo are long gone, but even this very grainy "copy of a copy of a copy" still shows a beautiful picture that I have labeled:

"Adoring Dad".

The word "adoring" has a double meaning depending on whether looking from your perspective or from my perspective.

From your perspective, your eyes and smile show that you are adoring your Dad, so the word is used as a verb.

From my perspective, my eyes and smile show a Dad well pleased with his beloved son, who is an "Adoring Dad" a Dad described by the adjective "adoring".

Notice that you are wearing "our" George Washington in Prayer Straw Hat, with your hand on the brim. This photo was taken in October anno domini 2000, after we had been separated since 8 July a.d. 2000 when I set off from our little home in Belleview to complete the New England states portion of the Prayer Pilgrimage All Across America Journey with Jesus, by George! where I prayed for you in every state capitol.

I wore that GW in Prayer straw hat while I was driving in the GW Tour Bus and before in the GMC Suburban given for the journey by a Godly man, virtually a Godfather to you, David Carl Harrison. When David was packing to travel to Oxford University in England, he found a copy of a video tape I made showing our reading a favorite book together.

Before I set off on the Prayer Pilgrimage, as a tiny toddler, your favorite toy was a bus. Your namesake Grandmother Renwick Mardel Shambach gave you a Daughters of the American Revolution yellow school bus, and you had another one that was bigger. When we would be driving about in the car, when you saw a bus, you would call out with glee, "Bus, Bus, Bus".

So when the day before Independence Day in the Year of Our Lord Jesus 2000, your PaPa rolled into the red gravel driveway of our little cottage in Belleview area of Mount Vernon with a 22 seat Church Bus with the license tags "GW Tour" you were one excited little boy.

You climbed into the bus and ran up and down the aisle and inspected all the things that your PaPa had gathered on his Prayer Pilgrimage All Across America Journey with Jesus, by George!

Here you are sitting in the driver's seat looking out the window like you are reading the sign on the door:

"Anyone Can Be A
FATHER...
It Takes Someone Special To Be A
DADDY!

And when you were just 19 months old, on 18 November a.d. 1999, your PaPa took you with him to stay at the home of Bill and Cheri Grider in Chesapeake, Virginia, to do a performance as George Washington LIVES! at Stone Bridge School. Enroute we stopped at the Liberty gas station in Fredericksburg where the gas prices were much less than in Mount Vernon, and your PaPa found this front page photo of his GW performance the day before, 17 November, at Ferry Farm for the students of Fredericksburg Christian School.

Jamey I pray that someday soon you will be able to enjoy your father's teaching of our American History that is unique and highly regarded by adults and much enjoyed by children.

God bless you my son, and know that now, then and forever will your father love you!

Merry Christmas!

Your Papa,

James

James 1:2

GW Monument, GW Lives! and Lil' Georgey

2006-12-25T00:06:00.000-08:00

Dear Jamey my boy,

Here is a photo from August in the year of Our Lord Jesus 1999. If you notice, the Washington Monument is covered with a metal scaffolding that was in place for quite some time to repair the mortar in the monument stones.

I have you dressed in a "buff' color corduroy jumper so to be like the Revolutionary Army uniform of George Washington that was Buff and Blue.

You and your father are praying together for America, on the Washington Mall in the City of Washington, District of Columbia, our Nation's Capital City.

The sign says C.R.O.S.S. that stands for Capital Resort Outreach Serving the Savior, and our Savior and Lord is the Son of God, Jesus Christ whose birthday we celebrate with Christmas!

This picture here is again dog-earred, or well worn from being carried in your PaPa's pocket All Across America during the Prayer Pilgrimage.

This is from late January or early February in the Year of Our Lord Jesus 1999, about 7 months before the photo above, (the two photos compared show how you are a growing boy!) when I suited up for the first or one of the first times for my The Spirit of George Washington LIVES! "dinner theater" performances for the high school students from all across America here in Washington with American Christian Tours.

Just know that I love holding you in my arms and lifting you up, while in my mind and my prayers I am lifting you up to Our Father, and know too that I love kneeling beside you to pray with you and to pray for you, and lift you up while down on my knees.

I love you my Jamey boy. God bless you and keep you safe until we are together again, and then you and I will be happy again together.

Merry Christmas!

Love,

Your PaPa,

James

James 1:2

2006-12-25T00:03:00.000-08:00

Dear Jamey my boy,

This precious photo was once on the refrigerator in our Belleview home.

You can see that it is from moments after you were born, and...

...you can see that it has been pretty well been battered up as a photograph with all the white lines showing creases and wrinkles in the picture.

Yet the basic image remains, and shows that your father loves you dearly.

Meanwhile at the top are toy alphabet blocks that spell out B A B Y. At the bottom is "America One Communications", and to the right America's number one in communications to Our Father in Heaven, "the father of His country", George Washington, kneeling in prayer in the snow at Valley Forge on Christmas night in the Year of Our Lord Jesus 1777.

On Christmas eve, in the Year of Our Lord 2000, your father was kneeling in prayer in the snow at Valley Forge for you, his beloved boy, Jamey.

Merry Christmas!

Love, Your PaPa,

James

James 1:2

Good boy into a fine man...

2006-12-24T21:15:00.000-08:00

Dear Jamey boy, my joy!

Here you can see a "dog-ear" copy of a photo of you as a tiny baby sleeping on your Papa's chest, and your Papa sleeping snoozin' too!

This photo was taken in what we called the TV room, and we were on the fold-out bed couch. That fold out bed is where your Grandmother Renwick Mardel Conger (Manship) Shambach used to sleep when she came once a year from Mexico to the D.A.R. Convention in April and visited with us during her stay.

Yet also that fold out bed is where a great man of God, William J. Federer, slept when he stayed at our home on 24 and 25 February anno domini 2000, just before he served as the Master of Ceremonies for the George Washington "Man of the Millennium" Book Festival that was broadcast nationwide by C-SPAN TV.

Mr. Federer is a brilliant scholar, yet a humble servant of Our Lord Jesus Christ, who has compiled the wonderful reference book "America's God and Country Encyclopedia of Quotations". During the GW Book Festival and since, I have said that next to the Bible this is a book that every American should have in their library or better, on their bedside table.

Someday, I pray to be able to introduce you to my good friend, Bill Federer, and have him inscribe some bit of wisdom in the front of his great work as he autographes one of his books for you, my beloved boy.

That year when he visited in our home and held you in his arms, he was a candidate for the United States Congress in the Saint Louis, Missouri area.

And here my son, you are eating "my popcorn". One of the things we did was share. When you were a baby I would feed you with a baby spoon, and then when you began to feed yourself, you were so sweet and wanted to "return the favor" and feed me. So we got into the practice of me feeding you a carrot, and you feeding me a carrot, or me feeding you a piece of popcorn, and you feeding me a piece of popcorn...

Wait a minute there pardner, you are feeding YOU, not me... where's mine?

Yet you were taught by your loving Papa to be a caring and sharing soul. One time I was so well pleased with you my son was when you were not yet able to walk and in the nursery at the church on Washington Street. A little boy who was already walking was holding a big ball. A little girl who also was walking came up and hit the ball from the little boy's hands, so he began to cry.

I will forever remember watching you as you looked up at the boy crying and then looked over at the ball where it stopped under a crib, and you crawled over to the ball under the crib and pushed the ball back to the boy and lifted the ball up to him whereupon the boy stopped crying.

Son, when you were crawling, you were caring.

You were also taught to make others happy by giving up your toys if another child wanted it, because you could go find another and have just as much fun with it. Further, I explained where in this world there were bullies who would take your things or your toy, time and time again, usually a bully will get tired after two times if they were unable to get you upset by taking your toys.

Some people are just mean, no matter what their age, whether a mother or a man, as much as they may want your toy, really more than that, they want to steal your joy.

Don't let anyone steal your joy, my boy! Remember James 1:2, "Count all joy your trials and tribulations..."

Your sweet and joyful spirit may be the power of God that changes that bully into a beauty.

You are a good boy who will grow into a fine man if you continue to follow your Father's teachings, both from Heaven and on Earth.

I love you son, now, then and forever.

Your PaPa,

James

James 1:2

Jamey Joy, that's my boy!

2006-12-24T21:01:00.001-08:00

Dear Jamey my beloved boy,

On this Christmas Day in the Year of Our Lord Jesus 2006, you are far away from me in physical distance but you are now and ever in my heart, my arms, and like in this photo in my lap enjoying a joyous time with your loving father.

I love you son, and I always will. Always remember that Truth, no matter what some folks may say to the contrary. Here in this photo, you see me reading a favorite book to you, an activity which is very apparent we both much loved to share together, and which I have a video of that book being read to you which I will share with you later.

All at Godspeed, my son. That may mean in a twinkling of an eye or a generation away. That is a hard concept for a boy -- or a man -- the concept of patience, of waiting on the Lord.

Yet you may not remember that I used to also read to you the poem IF by Rudyard Kipling. As a boy I memorized that poem as a simple guide to manhood. In that poem a key couplet ,

"If you can see the Truth you have spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools...
...You will be a man my son."

Though it is not always easy my son, tell the Truth, even when knaves, who may even be your kin, twist your words to hurt you. Why? Because the Truth is a word that is used to describe our Lord Jesus Christ, and by telling the Truth you will be honoring our Lord Jesus.

Jesus warns us that if we give our life to Him we will be persecuted as he was, and as hard as it is to understand whether a boy or a man why we would want to follow Jesus and suffer persecution from foes, friends or family, it is something someday I will explain to you.

We have not been able to share a Christmas together since a.d. 1999. I regret that situation of our separation more than I can adequately express, and regret that I did not see the storm approaching that swept you away, or stole you away like the Bible story of David at Ziklag.

One of the few consolations that I have as a father is that I was faithful in reading to you from your Great Grandmother Ruth Renwick Conger's Red Leather and Red Letter King James Version Holy Bible, and faithful in teaching you to pray to God the Father who art in Heaven, His name and His Son's name Jesus are hallowed, that is to say are to be honored above all names.

This grainy picture of you clutching your hands in prayer like your Papa did and does, with your little stuffed dog from the nice neighbor lady Mrs. Paula Zehring beside you, and your Poo Bear at the end of the table is a joy to me that I pray that you never forget to pray to your Father in Heaven as your father on Earth is praying for you. I had that picture printed and put in my pocket watch so when ever I checked the time, I thought of the beauty of my son praying to Our Father.

You son are one James, and your father is James too, and in James 1:2 in a translation other than the King James says "Count all joy your trials and tribulations..." and in James 1:4 "...for it leads to a perfecting of the faith."

Yet, James my son, it would be wise for you to uplift your language comprehension and abilities by reading the King James Version Holy Bible instead of the New International Version or other translations. The translation is far more faithful, and the wordsmanship of the prose is almost poetic. Your life will be enriched if you read from the King James Bible.

You will hear pastors and music ministers tell you otherwise, to forget your father, or ignore what he says about the King James Version that your father faithfully read to you near daily when the two of you were together, but your father can give you powerful facts that should more than satisfy any curiosity you may have of why to read and study the King James Version over other less faithful translations.

I will forever remember when after the first three months we were separated back in a.d. 2000, I finally was able to be with you again in the back yard of the home of Clyde and Joanie Bingman just around the corner from Mrs. and Mrs. Bushrod Washington on Popkins Lane. For various reasons that are common to children who have been separated from their father for an extended period of time, you were not willing to be with me or talk with me.

By the way, in case you do not remember, the background in the top photo where I am reading to you is the living room of the Bingman house. The one where you are praying is our dining room in our home in Belleview, and the one with the stick pony is our living room in our home in Belleview. For reasons best known to God, and suggested in His scriptures, that Belleview house was flooded by Hurricane Isabel after it was no longer the home of you and me.

So while you were playing in a plastic car, I sat in the grass and began reading "Our Red Renwick King James Bible". Within a minute of my faithful and impassioned reading of God's Word, you got out of your toy car and came to sit in my lap as I continued to read to you from our King James Bible. What a joy you are, my boy! James' joy, that's my Jamey boy!

This photo is from Independence Day in the Year of Our Lord 2000, the Millennium Year, when your Papa traveled on a Journey with Jesus, by George! a Prayer Pilgrimage All Across America, and prayed for you each and every day, in every one of the lower 48 states, while imagining you were safe at our home. This stick pony is one I brought back for you from western Wyoming. Come back to this site in the future and I will add a map or two to show you the exact location where this pony used to call home.

Notice the straw hat in the first photo and in this one. In both photos it has a "crest" showing George Washington kneeling in prayer, with a Red, White and Blue patriotic hat band, and lots of state pins. In this photo you see what a nice new shape the bill has. In the first photo, the bill is a bit droopy.

You may not remember but you and I used to play "musical hats" while I was reading you story books, and "our" straw hat is "a bit" worse for wear. Though through the storms of weather and the storms of life the past six years, I have lost most of what I once owned, yet I have been blessed by Our Father in Heaven to somehow hold onto "our" George Washington in Prayer straw hat... (It ain't much, but it is yours!)...

...and of course, I have been able to hold onto my ever, forever love for you, my beloved boy, and that my son is something you can forever hold onto in your heart.

God bless you my son, and a most joyous and Merry Christmas!

I love you, now, then, and forever,

your Papa,

James

My "Wall Paper" - My daily view of you...

2006-12-24T18:33:00.000-08:00

Dear Jamey boy, my love and joy,

The big picture to the left with the many inset photos is something I created this summer of a.d. 2006 from old pictures that you will see elsewhere on this web log. I believe it was taken in early March of a.d. 2001.

I took the blue hue freeze frame photo from the video, and did some color adjustments to make the photo warmer, more red in color, so you have rosy red cheeks rather than blue ones. But we both still have blue eyes!

The inset photos from top left are: "Adoring Dad" taken in October a.d. 2000. Next is "Eating PaPa's Popcorn" taken in the fall of a.d. 1999 as best I can recall.

The one with your PaPa's cradling you on his shoulder with your head in your father's hand was moments after you were born on 5 April in the Year of Our Lord Jesus 1998. You were such a joy boy for your Papa.

By the grace of God, your mother went into birth contractions a month early. Why that was a blessing is that the umbilical cord was wrapped around your next in your mother's womb, and you might well have been strangled to death in your mother's womb if you had stayed inside her body for another month.

I have a very powerful story of the experience of watching your birth while your mother was under anesthesia, unable to witness the joy of your birth. When we get together, I will share it with you.

Shortly after the woman doctor delivered you, and handed you to the delivery room nurses to check to see that you were healthy in most all ways, a nurse put you into my hand and arms, and later gave me a bottle of formula to feed you, so your first meal outside the womb came not from your mother's breast, but from your father's hand. You are your PaPa's boy, and I love you so very dearly.

God bless you my son. Know that I pray for you daily and many times a day.

And the next photo is a color corrected photo of your praying at the dinner table for your "friends", your cuddle puppy, and your Poo Bear, and likely, your PaPa bear too!

Just below that is a cute photo of you looking like you are so happy you could "pop the buttons" right off of your shirt, with your little Scot Tartan shorts and suspender set. That be my lad, me Jamey boy, it is!

And the photo in the center was taken on Thursday, 8 March a.d. 2001, if I recall correctly. On Tuesday, I had just returned from Virginia Beach where I gave the Invocation for the Family Foundation Dinner at the Founders' Inn, and where I was close friends with the founder of the Family Foundation, Walt Barbee, a wonderful Christian man, who has since passed on.

I came into the Bingman's house and because I had driven all the way from Virginia Beach that morning where I had done a GW presentation for kindergarten and first graders at Woodstock School, I was a little bit late, about 35 minutes.

I remember knocking on the Bingman's front door and hearing you shout with glee, "I told you he was coming..."

Anyway, I came in and was still in my George Washington uniform because I did not want to waste a minute leaving Virginia Beach to get back to Mount Vernon to be with my boy that afternoon beginning at noon. You helped me take off my trinity had and my "powdered wig", and then you sat in my lap as I read to you our Red Renwick King James Bible.

Two days later, the next time I was allowed to see you, I was dressed in a suit and tie. When I came in, you said so sweetly, "Hair? Hair?". I first answered, "I am not wearing my hair this time." Yet you asked again, "Hair? Hair?" So I thought a moment and answer, "Well wait a minute, I have it out in the car, I will go get it for you."

I had my video camera running from when I first came in, because I loved to watch you and me together during the times we were apart, and so while I was out of the house, at the car, you kept saying, "I'm here Daddy, I'm really right here. I'm right here Daddy, I'm really right here." It was so sweet, almost like a prayer saying "Make sure you come back Daddy, I'm really right here waiting for you..."

When I came back in the house you were just squealing with joy and excitement that I was back, that I had not left you alone with the Bingmans. I held out the bag where I kept the GW powdered wig, and to my surprise and delight, you reached in and pulled out the wig and popped it on YOUR head, you then went to the couch where I had placed a yard sign size American flag, and you stuck that between your legs like the stick pony I had brought you from out west in Wyoming the previous year on Independence Day.

You then started running around the Bingman's house squealing with joy, "Little Georgey, Little Georgey". I grabbed my video camera and started following you around the house capturing on video the joyous little boy pretending like his father to be "the father of His country" George Washington.

The wonderful scene quickly turned sad, because due to your being fed cow milk to which you have an allergy that appears like asthma, within three minutes of such play you started having breathing problems, got dizzy and collided into a wall and moments later collapsed by the back door in the kitchen where Joanie Bingman was preparing a meal.

You looked so afraid about what was happening to you, and confused as to why you could only play for three minutes before losing your breath.

I immediately put down the camera, picked you up, and carried you back into the living room and laid you on the couch while you regained your breath. After that incident, I checked your Kaiser Springfield medical records and discovered that in the preceding 15 months you had 16 Urgent Care visits for breathing problems, however in the 12 months before that when I cared for you daily and gave you Soy Milk rather than Cow Milk, you had zero breathing attacks.

Eventually, eleven months later, in February a.d. 2002, your breathing attack was so bad that the Kaiser Urgent Care clinic in Falls Church sent you by an ambulance to Fairfax Children's Hospital Emergency Room and ordered some medical tests.

After that dangerous time being taken by ambulance to the Emergency Room, I believe that your custodians began to give you Soy Milk so that you stopped having allergy reaction to Cow Milk breathing attacks, and so you were able to become more healthy.

I do not know for sure, because after I reported to the Child Protection Services social workers about the 16 breathing attacks, a Baptist deacon lawyer took action to get Kaiser to say that I could no longer read my son's medical record. It is wrong to deprive a father the right to read his son's medical record, but bad lawyers do lots of bad things to good people.

I am sorry son, I tried as long as I could to protect you from harm, but was made powerless to do more, or rather more than what I could do best for you, and that was as an earthly father to pray to Our Father in Heaven for my son, and his safety, health, and happiness.

Someday soon, at Godspeed, whether that be tomorrow or a decade away, you and I will be allowed to see each other once again, and no corrupt earthly authority will be able to deny our right to do so. Trust in the Lord, my son, and know that our day is coming!

Know always and in all ways, that your father James loves you, his son Jamey.

Merry Christmas!

Love,

Your PaPa,

James

James 1:2