Day Twenty-Four: Real Men Pray

She peered into the back of my husband's pick-up truck and jeered, "That baby car seat looks so funny back there." She continued to chuckle.

Terry simply stated, "That car seat makes me a man."

He's the same man who believes in prayer and knows it's not just "women's stuff".

My husband grew up watching a father who took prayer seriously. He prayed on his own and with his wife (and still does), but just as importantly, he prayed with the family after every suppertime. Paired with reading a portion of the Bible, he trained his children to have a firm faith, to remember Scripture and to go to God no matter what. Those prayers clung like static to my heart as I, the girlfriend, sat awkwardly and shyly with the ever-outgoing and fun-loving Vanderkruks. My blonde-streaked haired boyfriend was learning how to lead his own family without really thinking about the future. Real men pray and now, he's one of them.

Sunday afternoon soccer fun with cousins:

Manhood Practice

He runs the capped razor over his smooth, six year-old skin while my scruffy husband buzzes his much thicker manhood. The elder, then slices the remaining stubble till those jaws feel like butter again. Our boy, who's watched every move for a long time now, keeps the shaving rhythm like he's been endowed with a real face-full.

 

  

My boys shaved together tonight. It was a milestone that, although celebrated early, was partaken with vigour!