We sat on the couch one Tuesday evening, father and son. It was story time and my then 4½ year old Andrew had brought one of his favorite story books about Noah and the ark. While reading the old familiar account Andy listened intently, looking at the illustrations while his feet, hanging out over the edge of the couch, danced to the imaginary rhythm of the words. We counted animals, counted the number of rainy days and counted the number of times the bird went out in search of dry land, all pictured in the book.

At the end of the story as “Andy Dan” happily closed the book, I posed a question; half out of curiosity as to his perception of the story and half out of wanting our time to be an educating moment. “What would have happened if Noah hadn’t obeyed God?” I asked. Andy thought for a moment and then began to relate that the animals and the people would not have been saved from the flood, that all would be lost; the kind of answer I had expected and hoped for.

Just as I was about to launch into a little father to son talk about the consequences of not being obedient, came a statement from Andrew that I had not expected. “Daddy, I want to follow Jesus,” he said with a tiny voice but big eyes looking squarely up at mine. Our educational moment had suddenly become profound and precious at the same time. My heart leapt with love, all the while cautious of his tender age. “Does he know that he is saying?” I thought. “Can his little mind comprehend the cost?” Then I was reminded of Jesus’ words in Mark 10:14-15, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” 

Briefly and simply I talked with Andy about what it meant to start to follow Jesus – first, that he needed to tell Jesus he had been a bad boy at times and how he wanted to be a good boy all the time, second, he was to ask Jesus to come and live inside him so that he could obediently live his life for Him, finally, all of this Andrew himself would have to do from his heart in prayer. When I asked if he understood what I said and really wanted to do it, Andy confidently nodded and bowed his head.

That night Andrew prayed a beautiful, sweet, and memorable prayer. I felt not like a parental coach but a spellbound spectator witnessing the touch of the hand of the Heavenly Father upon my cherished son. It was a prayer of confession and devotion, only in the words of a child. It was a prayer of intersession for his neighbors next door that they “will came to know Jesus too.” It was also a prayer of thanksgiving for all the things God created (saved no doubt from the flood!). With our heads bowed, his tiny hand in mind, I wished that his prayer would go on forever in order that the special intimacy of the moment would not come to a close. With an “Amen,” his teeth brushed, and my heart aglow with pride I tucked Andy in and kissed him good night.

The next morning dawned as usual, but by the end of the day Andrew’s behavior had deteriorated to the point of being terrible. “What happened?!” I thought in dismay. At one point I even tried reminding Andy Dan of our prayer the previous night and his decision to follow Jesus, but to no avail. I couldn’t reach him. It was like dealing with two different young boys wearing the same pair of sneakers! I was flustered and frustrated. But then came my educational moment.

As clear as day, I was suddenly reminded of my relationship with my Heavenly Father, and I was stopped short. How many times have I been sweet and intimate in prayer only to be ugly and distant the next day? How could I burn with passion for Him one week only to find myself preoccupied the next? How must the Heavenly Father feel when His child refuses to obey? Oh how patient He must be!

Yet through it all my Father loves me, gently and sometimes firmly correcting my rebellion, patiently awaiting the maturation of my faith and love for Him. How could I be any different with my own son?

So it was that the words of Andy, “Daddy, I want to follow Jesus” remind me of my own, “Abba, I want to follow Jesus.” How much more do I need to appreciate the patience of my Heavenly Father with me and pass that on to my own children who likewise are maturing in this pilgrimage through life.

How patient the Father is! And oh, how He longs for that special intimate time with you to be more than fleeting…

But do not forget this one thing dear friends: with the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years is like a day. The Lord is not slow in keeping His promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.
~ 2 Peter 3:8-9 NIV

—RWO/MAST