We sat in his office—me balling my eyes out, him encouraging, pastoring, and gently correcting me.
I desperately needed it. I felt like my whole life was out of whack.
He was assuring me I wasn’t alone, I wasn’t broken, and I wasn’t a lost cause.
Katie, have you ever heard the story about my son?”
I shook my head.
So he told me.
He told me how they were driving down the road one afternoon and his eight-year-old son piped up from the backseat.
Dad, would you be proud of me if I was a missionary in China?”
My friend said he almost melted hearing those words from his son’s lips. He would love nothing more than to see his son bringing the Gospel in a closed country. He said he wanted to rip the door of the car to get to his son faster to love on him and tell him how awesome that would be and how he would do whatever it took to help this dream come true.
Instead he met his son’s eye in the rear-view mirror and said,
No, Son, I wouldn’t be proud of you if you were a missionary to China.”
Before you think my friend is a horrible parent for saying that to his child, come over to My Ink Dance and read the rest of the story.
It changed my life.
Let it change yours too.
If you’re coming from My Ink Dance, welcome! I’m so glad you’re here.
Pull up a chair and stay awhile. Here are some other posts you might enjoy:
I’d love to send you a list of creative ways to encounter the Father to help you better understand how deep His love is for you–whether you think you’re making Him proud of not.