When my son was an infant—he is now 34—I began crying out to God about my perceived inability to father. My own father had committed suicide when I was 3½, and had been in the Navy on an aircraft carrier and so was mostly absent. My mother remarried when I was almost 8, and that man was an alcoholic who was abusive often when drunk, and unpredictable in his fathering, either authoritarian and heavy-handed or absentee. I even went to college a year early to escape the situation at home.

One day, as I was crying out, the Lord gave me an unexpected revelation which brought tremendous relief. He caused me to look at the situation of the 40-year wilderness experience of Israel coming out of Egypt. There a large group of fathers—perhaps in the millions—coming out of a slave mentality, failed to take God at His promise that He would enable them to take the Promised Land. Yet over the next 40 years, they managed to raise up a generation that could do what they were not able to! A generation of unbelievers raised up a generation of believers! In light of that, my failure at fathering could still become a glorious success in my children, enabling them to go farther and higher than I had.

My son is now entering into some of that. After a year of a fairly successful business blog (www.ChangeForge.com), related to his profession (head of IT [Information Technology at what used to be Kearns Business Solutions, now part of the world-wide $30-billion Sharp Business Systems]), he has just launched a spiritual blog (www.SeekingtheSon.org), chronicling his journey spiritually. His insights and ability to convey them in both arenas still quietly amaze me. Definitely an answer to prayer!

Update: As we start the new decade (today is Friday, January 1, New Year’s Day 2010) my son is now 35. He and I went hiking this past Wednesday to Rainbow Falls on the Horsepasture River in NC, hiking in from the new Gorges State Park entrance. In June of 1999, I scattered his mother’s ashes from a rock here into the water running over the falls, because her name–Iris–means “rainbow” in Greek. We had a great time talking, he sharing his dreams and other info about what he had learned in various stations of life, and as I got out of the car upon returning, I told him how proud I was to have him as a son. He responded about how proud he was to have me as a dad. The blessings just keep reverberating!

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