08 Becoming a Father

Fatherhood has humbled me, changed me, and revealed my need for Jesus more than anything else.

Paul, a servant of Jesus Christ, reflecting on the gift and weight of fatherhood.

To all who have welcomed children into their arms—or who hope to one day—grace to you, and peace.

When Scripture says, “Children are a heritage from the Lord” (Ps. 127:3), the weight of that truth does not always fall on the heart immediately. Sometimes the understanding comes slowly, through both joy and weakness, through blessing and exposure.

When Shelby prayed for our first son before even conceiving him, she prayed specifically—earnestly—much like she had prayed the day I texted her for the first time. She prayed for his calling, his heart, his protection, his future. She prayed with the faith of a mother who believed God hears.

And I, in those early moments, was still learning what fatherhood would require of me. When we discovered she was pregnant, I was grateful, but not yet fully broken of self. Part of me still wanted time alone with my bride—my joy was real, but more from self-discipline than maturity.

The day our son was born, something in me changed forever. I cherished him the moment I held him. But even then the Lord began exposing parts of my heart I did not know were there. I found myself more easily frustrated, more quickly irritated, more overwhelmed than I expected. I raised my voice more than I should have—more than I ever remember my own parents raising theirs, which is to say almost never. In many ways, I still felt more like a son than a father—still growing into the weight of the role God had given me.

Nothing in life humbles a man faster than becoming a father. And nothing kills self faster than having many children. Your needs, your desires, your feelings, your plans—all of them become secondary out of necessity to care for the little ones entrusted to you alongside your wife.

Fatherhood revealed weaknesses I didn’t know I carried — impatience beneath discipline, pride beneath responsibility.

There were moments—more than I want to admit—where my frustration turned into raised tones or anger-driven words. The Lord convicted me deeply. I repented. I broke word curses I had spoken in exhaustion or fear. And slowly, renewing my mind through Scripture, prayer, and His relentless mercy, God reshaped my heart.

Shelby walked her own road—the weight of the postpartum season, sleepless nights, physical recovery, and spiritual battles. We were learning together, failing together, growing together, seeking the Lord together.

Looking back, those years were marked not by perfection, but by challenging transformation.

Each child God has entrusted to us has been another tool in the hand of the Potter—shaping us, humbling us, deepening us, teaching us to love as He loves.

God-willing, we will write again soon.