“Happy birthday, son”, words from a June phone conversation I had with my father for my twelfth birthday; my birthday is in April. He never took the time to get to know me as my parents separated and divorced while I was still in diapers. An absent father has been one of the many events that have shaped my life.
I remember standing in the hospital on March 31st, 1992 and holding a five-pound baby boy, my first child, promising to always know him. I promised to be ever-present in his life. I promised not to treat him as my father had treated me. I was going to provide for him, teach him to become an honorable man and model an authentic relationship with God before him. On February 26th, 1993, I made a similar resolve as I spoke over my second son and promised him the same proactivity as my first son. These are promises I have kept now for nearly twenty years.