that's my boy

I know that it is only natural when you have children to be proud of them. And I am no exception to that rule. Basketball, football, art projects, clever jokes, all of those things can get me beaming with pride.

But this weekend was something so much deeper. I was proud of Steven's soul. His innermost being. Now this has happened a few times before. When he became a Christian, when his father baptised him, when he is seeking for the Holy Spirit to fill him. But this weekend seemed to be more than that. It was a genuine search for himself. Not an already worn path that he was blindly following, but a genuine seeking for himself.

We went to Friday night church in St. Joe. The boys love that place. We all love that place. The music, all the activities, the pastor, all speak to those of us who are "young at heart" And there is no children's church on Friday night. So we are in there worshiping together, and then Pastor Brian gets up to preach. I notice Steven is really paying attention, and even taking notes. I saw him fill out a little prayer request form asking for prayer for his future. He's worried about "getting into drugs and gangs and stuff as he gets older" the form says. I encourage him to turn it in and tell him these are things we can talk about at home too.

Then it happened. The alter call. And Steven wanted to go down. I of course, go down with him and pray with him. And it was so special. It wasn't like he had never done that before. He had. And he had meant it. But this was a different ballgame. It was like something clicked inside of him. He related to this pastor and what he was saying and how he had said it. And he was anxious to do something about it. And I couldn't have been more proud. If only we were all more like that. If only when God spoke to us, we would respond with such urgency and passion. I often learn from my boys. This weekend was no exception.