Every good Christian parent wants their children to have their own relationship with God. Sometimes, though, it’s hard as a parent to know how to help children see their need for salvation without pressuring them into a decision they aren’t ready for. With my oldest son, it encouraged me when God used what felt like a parenting mistake to help guide my son into personally trusting Jesus Christ to save him. This is that story, first aired during season 2. Enjoy.
It’s late on a Monday night. I’m tired, but I’m finishing up a few dishes before heading to bed when I hear a sound that I don’t like to hear late at night. It’s the sound of the boys’ room door opening.
Normally, that sound means one of the boys will be asking for a drink of water, or asking to be tucked back in, and I am fully prepared to sternly send whoever it is back to bed.
I shut off the water, dry my hands, and stride purposefully into the hallway. My oldest son is standing there, blinking in the light coming from the kitchen.
“What are you doing out of bed?” I ask him firmly.
“I thought of something I didn’t like,” he answers pitifully.
My heart melts and it doesn’t take very long for me to figure out what it is that’s bothering him.
Earlier that evening, we were at church. We’re having a special week of meetings and it’s my responsibility this week to teach the kids during the preaching time. I love doing this and as usual, I’m really getting into it. As part of what I want to teach to the kids, I want to introduce them to the life of some great Christian from the past. This year, I pick John Wesley. He was a very influential preacher in the 18th century and I’m excited to share about his life with this group of kids. The meetings go from Monday to Friday, so I’ve split his life into five parts so they can learn a little bit more about him each night.
There are probably 15-20 kids in the room that first night when I share the first chapter of John Wesley’s life. And there is an episode in his early life that I just KNOW I have to start with.
See, when John was five years old, his family’s house burned down. He was one of eight kids, so the story goes that in the chaos of everyone rushing from the burning building, no one realized that John was still asleep in his bed. By the time they noticed John’s absence, it would have been suicide to reenter the burning building.
As I tell the story, I lean into the drama, building the suspense as John realizes his plight, sees the flames approaching him and makes his way to the window. I even share the fact that his family gave him up for dead.
A neighbor spies him and calls out to the crowd. In desperation, several of the men form a human ladder and the man at the top snatches John, pulls him out the window, and lowers him to safety.
The kids listen intently and I’m pretty proud of myself for how dramatic I make it all feel. To really drive it home, I ask the kids how many of them are five years old. Only one hand shoots up. It’s my son, Aaron, his eyes wide.
I move on with John Wesley’s story, not giving it all another thought until my son comes out of his room that night. He’s been lying in bed, thinking about another five-year-old boy 300 years ago who went to bed and woke up all alone, surrounded by flames.
No wonder Aaron can’t sleep.
I feel like the absolute worst dad ever. I hug Aaron. I tell him God will protect us. I pray with him. I even tell him that they build houses differently now so they don’t catch on fire as easily, and I show him the smoke detector and tell him that if we ever do have a fire, it will make a really loud noise and warn us. I tuck him back in and head back out to finish the dishes… and wallow in my guilt.
As the week goes on, I continue to share the story of John Wesley, but I’m careful to avoid talking about fire any more. Through the week, my wife and I notice that Aaron’s attitude seems different. He’s extra sweet and extra helpful and he seems to be listening especially well. He’s doing some thinking.
On Friday night, it’s bed time. I’m putting our daughter to bed and my wife is putting the boys to bed. She’s just finished Bible time with them and Aaron turns to her and says, “I want to go to Heaven”.
We’ve talked with him several times before about trusting Christ to save him.
“Are you ready to be saved?” my wife asks.
“I want to be born again.”
With some help from my wife, Aaron prays right there in his room, thanking Jesus for dying for him and asking Jesus to save him from his sins.
Last month, I had the privilege of baptizing my son. I had the chance to share his story, telling everyone how he came to know Christ as his Savior. It was a deeply moving experience, getting to share that moment with my son as he showed everyone that now he belongs to Jesus.
And I couldn’t help wondering what part a certain story about a little boy and a house fire had played in bringing Aaron to the point of decision. Maybe it was exactly what he needed to hear.
“There were two men in one city; the one rich, and the other poor.” (2 Samuel 12:1)
That’s how Nathan begins. He’s standing before the king—King David. Nathan has long served David and David counts him a trusted advisor and values the messages the prophet shares with him from God. But today is different. Nathan’s task is a complicated one. Today, he’s got a very specific and very sensitive message to share.
He begins by telling David all about these two men. The poor man has one little lamb he loves and cares for like a daughter. The rich man has scores of livestock. One day, a guest visits the rich man and he decides to feed his guest lamb, but not from his own generous flock. He takes that one little lamb from that one little poor man who loves it so much. He has that lamb slaughtered and prepared, and he eats that lamb with his guest that evening.
David flies off the handle. He will have none of this kind of cruelty in his nation. His verdict is harsh and decisive.
“As the LORD liveth, the man that hath done this thing shall surely die:” (2 Samuel 12:5)
Nathan fixes him with a sober look and responds with quiet resolve, “Thou art the man.” (2 Samuel 12:7)
He goes on to remind David of the goodness of God that he has known, of all the God has given him.
“Wherefore hast thou despised the commandment of the LORD, to do evil in his sight? thou hast killed Uriah the Hittite with the sword, and hast taken his wife to be thy wife”. (2 Samuel 12:9)
Judgment will fall on David and his family for his blatant sins against God. Nathan’s words cut deep. He makes it clear that David’s sin is inexcusable and its consequences are inescapable.
David responds meekly to this bitter decree, “I have sinned against the LORD.” (2 Samuel 12:13) David’s repentance is absolute and God’s forgiveness is complete.
It takes some hard words from God’s servant Nathan, but David is finally back where he needs to be with God.
In this conversation, Nathan provides a living illustration of twin truths in Proverbs 27:
“Faithful are the wounds of a friend…” (Proverbs 27:6)
and
“Open rebuke is better than secret love.” (Proverbs 27:5)
A rebuke, well-given and well-taken, can be far more transformative than even the best of compliments. None of us have arrived and a true friend is someone who can tell us what we need to help us grow.
Sometimes the best thing we can do for someone we truly love is to tell them something they don’t want to hear. According to 2 Timothy 3:16, “correction” is one of the ways in which the inspired Word of God is profitable. A truly good friend is a friend who can tell you when you’re wrong. That can be hard, even painful, but we should all strive to be the kind of friends who can have hard conversations.
And we might want to take a page out of the prophet Nathan’s book and consider the part a story might play in helping us share a difficult truth. Sometimes, a story can show me I’m wrong or help me see what I need to do in a way nothing else can. It might be a story about a poor man and his lamb… or a story about a little boy and a house fire.
Be a good teacher, or friend, or father—and love others enough to tell them what they don’t want to hear.
Exempla 