Thirteen years ago today, my son Daniel came into this world. It’s been an interesting journey, watching him grow from being a little boy into the young man he is today. Although he is my second child, there is something wholly unique about having a son (in much the same way the relationship I share with my daughter is wholly unique).
With Danny, I see so much I want for him in terms of providing the right guidance in his life. With all apologies for the stereotypes, there’s a sense of recklessness towards which the male species tends to gravitate, and when I look at my son, one of my first thoughts is to ensure his is a restrained recklessness. My other thought is to ensure that his dependence is not on me or his mother, but rather on God.
I used to fill my thoughts with regards to my son with things like where will he go to college or what type of person will he marry or will he be successful in his career. I used to fall back on the cliché of, “as long as he’s healthy and happy.” That is still true for the most part. Bet when it comes to my kids, so long as they are right with God, everything else will fall into place.
Specific to my son, I understand it’s my responsibility to lead by example. If I want my son to be a man of God, then I need to be one first and foremost. I’ve written before about my faith journey and how much I’ve grown spiritually in the last five years. I am confident that I am setting a good example for Daniel, and I pray that he views me as a role model when it comes to having a relationship in and with Christ.
Thirteen is a milestone for kids. I don’t know if it’s as big for girls as it is for boys – I think girls have their eyes set on fifteen or sixteen, depending on the culture in which they’re raised – but I remember turning thirteen as being a big deal for me. Teenager. No longer a ‘little kid’. Rather an adolescent on the path to manhood. Being thirteen was a fun age for me, and I pray it’s equally filled with excellent memories for my son.
The number 13 gets a bad rap in terms of luck and superstition. I’m sure that won’t be the case for my
little young man.
Happy birthday, Danny.