Confessions of a Father Who Failed
Reprinted from Albert C. Trent's book Lessons and Sermons on the Home
As a father,
I have thought that I was a success. I
taught my son to hunt, took him fishing, set on the sidelines and cheered his
work on the football field. I gave him a
good allowance and let him used the family car for his dates. I thought I was a pal to my son.
Now, that
son is gone. The house is empty without
his laughter and conscience comes and sits on my pillow and pricks me at night
with arrows that sting like poison. Not
once did I talk seriously to that boy about Christianity or his soul's
salvation. I thought of church-going as
something for the women and I wanted my boy to be a man. Easter found me in a pew, and maybe Mother's
Day. But, the rest of the year, Sunday
was the day to go fishing, play a few rounds of golf, or to just sleep late and
catch up on my resting.
And now that
my son has gone I've begun to think of the uncertainty of life. I'm remembering now some of the things my
mother taught me when I was a child; things about Jesus and how He gave His
life so that all might have a life with Him after death. I remember all she said about the Christian
life - how it's the best life, how it brings a man the greatest degree of satisfaction
even on this earth. And how it gives him
something to live for - strength to do the right things, and comforts in times
of trial and sorrow. Yes, it even makes
him unafraid to die.
My mother
tried to teach me those things, but my father was like I have been. He was my pal. We hunted and fished together and
church-going was for the women. He's
gone now and mother, too. He wasn't a
Christian. I wonder is Heaven, too, just
for the women? I hope not, because I've changed my mind about the matter. I want to go there when I die. I want my son to go, too. It may be forever too late for me to make up
for the wrong I've done my son. I've
written him. That's about all I can do
for the present - except pray.
But I pray
that someone will take time to tell my son about Christ, and that maybe he will
remember some of the things his mother has told him and will be afraid to face
death without a Savior. But, I don't
know. He's so young, and the young have
little fear.
I write this
in hope that some father, who still has his boy at his side will realize the
duty that he has to that boy before it's too late. Has a father any greater duty than to teach
his son the way of salvation and to live the Christian life before him?
Author unkown
--
This letter
is a sad fact of life for many who at the late stages of their life have begun
to see the futility of the life they have lived. I sincerely hope that we do not pass off such
a heart-felt letter as a ploy to get people to go to church. Rather, let us see the opened heart that this
letter has as its source and think about what we teach our children.
We may have
made mistakes in the past but we can change them. We may with heavy hearts have to admit our
wrong doing and tell our children that we are sorry for what we have done. Let us take this time to repent and have our
sins washed away in the waters of baptism ( 1 Peter 3:21), making the choice to
teach our children about God and the Bible.
Posted in: Attitudes, Biography, Christian Growth, Christian Living, Confession, Disobedience, Edification, Morality, Patience, Perseverance, Personal Judgments