A heartfelt letter from a father to the son he knew only briefly reveals how Jesus can use even a sonless father to help men who don’t have dads of their own.

Dear Son,

The last guests left the reception after your big sister Lisa’s wedding a few hours ago. It’s very early Sunday morning, but I can’t sleep. I’m going through my mental photo album of the events of a day I will remember for the rest of my life. There’s just so much to take in on a day like this. It makes me wish it could last a little longer.

David, you should have seen Lisa. She was beautiful and radiant and happy. As the doors swung open for me to walk her down the aisle, I started to weep. I wasn’t sad about her marrying Tobin. I wish you could meet him. He is a solid man who loves Jesus, loves Lisa, and fits right into our sorority of a family with your three little sisters. I think I cried because the time Lisa spent in my life as my little girl had passed way too fast for my liking.

As the doors swung open for me to walk her down the aisle, I started to weep.

It reminds me of the very brief time you and I had together. Two months and four days were all we got, every minute within the four walls of the ICU at Children’s Hospital. There were so many surgeries and procedures and shots and tubes and prayers and tears. We went from super hopeful to moderately hopeful to hopeless. But our time together during those sixty-four short days has given me a lifetime of memories to review. We had a deep father-and-son connection, and I vividly remember my time with you, and will for the rest of my life, much like I will remember Lisa’s wedding.

Son, I cry a lot for a grown man. Especially as I grow older. At first it was embarrassing, but not so much anymore. I cry watching movie trailers, hearing the national anthem played at ball games, singing every Sunday in worship, and mostly when talking about you around the family dinner table. Lisa even broke down and cried a few weeks before her wedding because she wanted you to be there on her big day. She misses you. Your mom misses you. Lauren, Jennifer, and Jillian miss you. We all do.

I vividly remember my time with you, and will for the rest of my life.

There’s rarely an hour that passes that I don’t think about you. I dream about what you might look like if you were with us and how you would get along with all the girls in our home. I imagine us going on father-and-son outings, hanging out together while the Bruskas ladies shop, and cheering together as the Cowboys disappoint us season after season. (That’s a family tradition handed down to you through three generations.) But I mostly rehearse the conversations I think we would have.

Son, as you would be twenty-two this October, I think about all the things I would need to teach you about what it means to be a man. This is a crazy, confused world. It is very difficult for young men to live for Jesus. Many of your peers not only don’t have Christian dads to teach them about life but don’t have dads at all. While I know the opportunity for me to teach you about being a man in this life will never come, since you are now with Jesus and have a much better knowledge of him than I do, I wanted to write down the lessons I would have shared with you. Hopefully, some of these lessons can help men who don’t have dads of their own.

This is a crazy, confused world. It is very difficult for young men to live for Jesus.

I look forward to our reunion. Your mom had a big gift from God a couple of years ago. She saw you in a vision, as a young man, worshiping Jesus with your sisters. She smiled, then cried and almost fainted. She said you looked tall and thin, with brown, wavy hair and seemed very happy to be with Jesus. That sounds about right to me. I’ve asked for the same gift but haven’t received it yet. Nonetheless, I know where you are and who you are with. The Bible says, “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Heb. 11:1).

I’m glad you are with Jesus. But I’m also glad you still are with us in a significant way. I find comfort in knowing you still are making a difference in my life and, hopefully, in the lives of many young men who need a spiritual dad to care for them. I’m always pleasantly surprised how Jesus uses a sonless father like me to teach fatherless sons. And all this began with your short but meaningful life here with us. Thanks to Jesus and thank you.

For Jesus’ fame,

Dad

Jesus Is Using a Sonless Father to Teach Fatherless Sons / RT to enter to win a copy of our newest book, “Dear Son” Share

This post is excerpted from Dave Bruskas’ new book Dear Son: A Father’s Advice on Being a Man.