Ask a man how he is doing and frequently the answer will come back, “Stressed!” Our lives are filled with all kinds of pressures that can easily produce anxiety. Fathers are especially vulnerable to anxiety and worry.

Amy and I have been blessed with seven children, and one grandchild. The eldest two are married, and the next two are in college. I find the pre-college time, the high school “launch years” to be especially stressful. Do they have the test scores they need? Do we have any chance of affording the rising costs of tuition? Does my son or daughter have any sense of purpose or direction? Are our family relationships in a healthy place so that they launch well?

For the past year, God has been continually turning my attention to Jesus’ direct teaching on the subject of worry and anxiety. In His “sermon on the mount” Jesus tells us, “Do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing?” (Matthew 6:25, ESV).

But I am anxious about these things! I have anxiety about their school, sports, friends, finances, future spouses, and more. 

The conclusion of this portion of Jesus’ sermon has been proving transformational for me as a father. 

“For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” (Matthew 6:32-33 ESV).

First, Jesus affirms that we (and our kids) do in fact need the practical things of life: food, clothing, employment, friendships, family, etc. But what is the path to having our earthly needs met? Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness.

Here is the question I have been wrestling with. As a father and grandfather, do I believe Jesus’ teaching? The easy answer is, “Well, of course I believe Jesus.” But not so fast. If I truly believe these words of Jesus’ it radically transforms the focus of my fatherhood. 

Jesus says that if my children will seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness that their Heavenly Father will take care of every single one of their practical needs. He will take care of their future college and career. He will guide them to their future spouse. More importantly the Lord will lead them to most effectively serve Him.

Are you stressed about college? Give your best attention to helping your son or daughter grow in righteousness.

Are you anxious about finances? Encourage your child to focus on seeking first the kingdom of God. 

Are you worried about your child’s future? Do all in your power to help your children love God above all else.

But I can’t lead my kids in a direction I am not going in myself. The vision here is not that I must be a perfect Christian in order to “produce” perfect Christian children. Rather, the call on my life is to continue to grow in a childlike faith and invite my children to join me in that journey. 

Last week I was reading the biography of John Paton¹, missionary to the New Hebrides Islands in the late 1800s. He wrote about growing up in Scotland and about his father’s faith. In the center of their little home was a small room, with a bed, table, and single chair. They called it the closet. It was his father’s prayer closet. 

This was the Sanctuary of that cottage home. After each meal, we saw our father retire, and shut the door; and we children got to understand by a sort of spiritual instinct (for the thing was too sacred to be talked about) that prayers were being poured out there for us, as of old by the High Priest within the veil in the Most Holy Place. 

We occasionally heard a trembling voice pleading as if for life, and we learned to slip past that door on tiptoe, not to disturb the holy moment. The outside world might not know, but we knew, the happy light that always was dawning on my father’s face: it was a reflection from the Divine Presence, in the consciousness of which he lived. 

Though everything else in religion were by some unthinkable catastrophe to be swept out of memory, or blotted from my understanding, my soul would wander back to those moments, hearing those prayers, and I would hurl back all doubt with the victorious appeal, “My father walked with God, why may not I?”

Fathers, let us walk with God, in His love, forgiveness, mercy and hope. Let us lead with prayer, and open Bibles in our homes, so that all of our children and grandchildren may say, “My father walked with God, why may not I?”

¹ John G. Paton, Missionary to the New Hebrides, Pantianos Classics, 1980.