A letter from a father to his special needs son. Powerful.
A truly heartbreaking story broke over Christmas. A British consumer agency released a survey that showed that the tenth most requested gift from Father Christmas was “a dad” (coming in just behind “snow”). The first choice was a baby brother or sister, which is a heartening sign that materialism hasn’t quite claimed our souls yet. But the stand out figure is one that shows that a growing number of children see a father not as a “given” but as a “blessing” – as precious and elusive as a Nintendo Wii…
On Christmas Day, the Washington Times published some sad facts about the changing face of the American family:
In every state, the portion of families where children have two parents, rather than one, has dropped significantly over the past decade. Even as the country added 160,000 families with children, the number of two-parent households decreased by 1.2 million. Fifteen million U.S. children, or 1 in 3, live without a father, and nearly 5 million live without a mother. In 1960, just 11 percent of American children lived in homes without fathers.
Heartbreaking indeed. But it is more than just a cultural war. It is profoundly spiritual.
My son, who turns 13 at the end of next month, drew this illustration a couple of years ago. (Traditionalists please forgive the orientation). I keep it in my Bible and it serves to remind me of my responsibility towards him and his sister.
The other piece I keep with it, tucked in the Bible, is by Dr James Dobson:
Through the Darkness
I’m told that when I was a very small child—maybe two years of age— my family lived in a one-bedroom apartment, and my little bed was located beside the bed of my parents. My father said that it was common during that time for him to awaken at night to a little voice that was whispering, “Daddy? Daddy? Daddy?”
My father would answer quietly, “What, Jimmy? And I would say, “Hold my hand!” My dad would reach across the darkness and grope for my little hand, finally engulfing it in his. He said later that the instant he had my hand firmly in his grip, my arm would become limp and my breathing deep and regular. I would immediately fall back to sleep.
You see, I only wanted to know that he was there! Until the day he died, I continued to reach for him—for his assurance, for his guidance—but mostly just to know that he was there.
Then, so very quickly, I found myself in my dad’s place. And I wanted to be there for my children—not just a name on their birth certificate, but a strong, warm, and loving presence in their lives.
You see, a dad occupies a place in a child’s heart that no one else can satisfy. So to all the men out there who are blessed to be called fathers: I urge you to be there for the little ones in your life who call you “Dad.”
So if you are a Dad, then please, just be that, and be there! Christlike, and faithful.
A 25-year-old Chandler man accused of burning his son’s hand and wrist because the child touched his Bible was booked Sunday on suspicion of child abuse, police said.
Johnny Salazar was taking care of his two sons, ages 2 and 5 this weekend on the 800 Block of East Flint Street, police said. He shares custody of the boys with their mother, who lives in Casa Grande. Both Salazar and the boys’ mother live with their own parents.
Sunday, Salazar’s parents returned from church and noticed the red blistering on the wrist and hand of the 5-year-old, and asked Salazar what happened, said Chandler Police Sgt. Joe Favazzo.
Salazar told his parents he used a cigarette lighter to burn his son’s hand and the back of his wrist, Favazzo said.
“The boy was touching his Bible and he thought the boy may be possessed,” Favazzo said.
The boy told his grandmother, “well dad burned me for touching his Bible.”
If it’s true, he should lose his custody rights. How can you burn a child for touching a Bible?!
These poor kid(s)!
“So it’s a boy, right?” a neighbour calls out as Kathy Witterick walks by, her four month old baby, Storm, strapped to her chest in a carrier.
Each week the woman asks the same question about the baby with the squishy cheeks and feathery blond hair.
Witterick smiles, opens her arms wide, comments on the sunny spring day, and keeps walking.
She’s used to it. The neighbours know Witterick and her husband, David Stocker, are raising a genderless baby. But they don’t pretend to understand it.
While there’s nothing ambiguous about Storm’s genitalia, they aren’t telling anyone whether their third child is a boy or a girl…
When Storm was born, the couple sent an email to friends and family: “We’ve decided not to share Storm’s sex for now — a tribute to freedom and choice in place of limitation, a stand up to what the world could become in Storm’s lifetime (a more progressive place? …).”
Their announcement was met with stony silence. Then the deluge of criticisms began. Not just about Storm, but about how they were parenting their other two children
… Witterick and Stocker believe they are giving their children the freedom to choose who they want to be, unconstrained by social norms about males and females.
These parents are being reckless and plain stupid. What kind psychological damage will they not bestowing upon their children in abdicating on their God given responsibilities as parents?
Their sick experiment is bound to fail for sure…