Like My Dad

A small boy knelt beside his bed with hands folded tight and eyes half closed in the holy seriousness only a child can carry.

"Dear Lord please help me grow to be like my dad. Big and strong. Safe and steady. A good man. A man who loves You."

In the next room his father bowed his own head. The day had worn him down. Work had taken its toll. The weight of providing and leading and holding everything together sat heavily on his shoulders.

And yet his prayer was softer.

"Dear Lord help me to be like my son. Teach me to trust You simply. Teach me to believe without wrestling every promise to the ground. Give me a gentler heart. A cleaner faith. A sweeter spirit."

And the Father in Heaven heard them both.

One prayer rose from little hands that longed for strength. The other rose from weary hands that longed for childlike faith. One wanted broad shoulders. The other wanted an open heart. And both without fully knowing it were reaching for Christ.

The boy saw in his father the kind of man he hoped one day to become. Strong enough to protect. Steady enough to lead. Kind enough to love well.

The father saw in his son something he himself had partly lost in the dust and noise of grown-up life. A faith without posturing. A love without calculation. A trust that ran straight to God and rested there.

That is one of the tender mercies of family. A son can look upward and learn strength. A father can look downward and relearn wonder. And both can look heavenward and find the grace they need.

For the Lord does not ask us merely to become impressive. He asks us to become faithful. Not merely strong in body or stern in manner but strong in Him. Not merely older and wiser but humbler and more like little children before His throne.

So the boy prayed to grow tall and strong like his father. And the father prayed to grow trusting and pure like his son.

And perhaps the beauty of it is this: God was pleased with both prayers because in each one was the quiet longing to become what a Christian ought to be, strong enough to stand and tender enough to kneel.

That is no small thing. That is the beginning of a godly life.