A Plea to a Father…

So, it’s been 7 months and  8 days since my wife and I were blessed with a little baby named Cohen. Yes, it was such a happy moment for us, yet scary all the same. But, when it was all done, we got to take him home, afraid that if we hold him the wrong way or forget to support the weight of his gigantic head, it might pop off like a Barbie doll or his “action-grip” may cease to be anything less than action or grip.

So like children with a new toy, my wife and I carefully changed diapers, gave bathes and played with Cohen, who didn’t do much but lay there and stare off into space dreaming of fairies and unicorns, as his mother and I pranced around like Christmas elves excited about the onset of Christmas urging a smile from him. And as Cohen continued to grow over the months, learning new things and beginning to recognize us when we enter the room, there was one thing that continued to bother me.

Throughout the sleepless night, the spitting up and 6 ft. projectile poop, every night when putting Cohen to bed, after saying our family prayer, I am struck with the fear and anxiety that comes from feeling absolutely helpless. Yet, I have to take a breathe…

As a father, I can pretty much make anything better for Cohen. If he is sad, I pick him up and tell him a joke. If he is scared, I can turn on a light. If he is having trouble sleeping, I can cuddle next to him and ease him to sleep. Yet, the one thing that I will never have the ability to control, the one thing that plagues my fatherhood is Cohen’s sin. I know, sounds cheesy and I know I am not the first to feel this way, but it is heart-wrenching!

I know that at some point in life, Cohen will have to make his own choice for or against Jesus. At some point Cohen will be confronted with a living, real God and be presented the opportunity to either repent of his sin and follow Christ or reject it. One day, Cohen will have to make his own choice whether or not to pursue God.

And though, I pray for God’s redeeming work in his life every day, there is still that lingering question in the back of my mind, “What if he rejects God?” Just the thought is haunting, and I have no control over that. I pray for a relationship with God that is life-changing and something so great my wife and I could never imagine; for God to captivate Cohen’s life in such a way that impacts every person he comes into contact with, for a faith that shakes the ground he walks on. Yet, that comes down to God and Cohen, not me.

So, every night, I close Cohen’s door after putting him to bed and cry, “Oh, please God…” As a father (and even a husband), the worse feeling that you can feel is helplessness, but it is within experiencing that heart-breaking feeling that God’s little whisper breaks through, “I already got this.”

“Okay… but what does that mean!?!”

I wish I could say that I am able to rest in the fact that God is working in Cohen’s life, but I still anxiously continue to pray, “God, save Cohen.” It is amazing knowing that God is already working in Cohen’s life, that God has already written Cohen’s life, and that God already knows what will happen the day they meet face to face. There is peace in that, but I will always leave his room at night crying, “Oh, please God! Only you can do this.”

Since being a father, this may be my biggest test of faith yet…