---
title: Jayden
subtitle: We have no secrets, you know all of me, and I know all of you...
---
Dear Jayden,

	We have no secrets; you know all of me, and I know all of you. When you were born, I held you to my chest for the first time and called you Bubby. I prayed to God to help me protect you and raise you to be a better man than me. God has never let me down, and you are no exception. You are braver than I am, you are stronger than I am, and you are even taller and weigh more than I do! You are more faithful than I am, and like your sister, you have kept your innocence close to the surface, much closer than I have.

	When your mother left and took your sisters for that short time, it was just you and me, no one else. Selfishly, I must admit I loved that time. Not because I didn't miss your sisters or feel bad our home had been wrecked overnight, but because I knew you and I could do anything together and survive anything together, and I was ready to go to war with life and all its troubles with you. You have always inspired strength in me, as you do in others. You have always inspired me to be my best, as you do in others. When I say you are a better man than me, I don't mean it figuratively; I mean it literally. I can remember you standing on that rail car in front of the old office when I had to take you to work, seemingly unfazed by the world, holding up a stick as a sword, just loving life. You kept me going, and it was more than just encouragement. I knew looking at you that no matter what was coming, it was going to be good.

	This isn't to say there is nothing more I can teach you, or that you have nothing more to learn, or even that you were always a perfect, do-nothing-wrong kid. We both know that's not the case. It's to say that no matter what you have to learn, I know you will learn it. No matter what you do, or where you go, or how things turn out, you will be good, and all who are in your company will be good too, because you are the kind of man who will make sure they are. Even on the days you are less than perfect, you find a way to shine. My favorite story to tell about you is when you came home from visiting Amber and you asked me for soda late at night and I told you no. You said, "Mom let me." I got mad, but only for a moment. I told you no more sternly, and instead of losing it, you grabbed a boomerang magnet off the refrigerator, turned it upside down, pressed it to your lip, and said, "That makes my mustache sad." For that well-timed joke, you got your dang soda. I laughed so hard.

	You never fail to make me laugh, and you always know just when to try. Raising you is not an obligation. It is my honor and privilege, and watching you grow into the young man you are now, and knowing I had a hand in that, and knowing God's hands have been on you making you what you are, is what I hope heaven is like. If heaven is raising you over and over again for eternity, I can't wait to get there. I love you, son; you know that. We have said it every day for fifteen years, and I hope we get the chance to say it every day for another forty at least, but in case we don't, and you are stuck reading this letter missing me one day, I want you to have this. I wrote this for you a while ago. I'm not sure if you read it, but here is where it will always be so long as this website stays up.

	My son,

	You look up to me now, and you will look up to me for as long as you can. One day you will become tired of looking up, and you will look down. You will look down and you will see me where I have always been. My faults naked as the day I was born, my status stripped clean, and my sins laid out with my arms held high. You will come to loathe these faults, and myself for them. You will spit in anger, throw rocks, and curse me for being so low. I will continue to walk, under you, against your torment with love, and one day just before I break you will see that I was only so low because I was holding you up. I will let go, and you will remain standing. We will walk again together as equals knowing that we are both only as low as our lowest moment together. One day I will fall, and you will lay my broken body down under the soil we both trod. Then you will stand and continue to hold your son up in the same manner. All that will remain beneath you is the path upon which we both walked. The soil in which we sowed our seeds, and the rock on which we built our home. The foundation of Christ, his father, and the Holy Spirit. So long as you remain on that rock you will never sink below it, and the weight of who you hold up to it will never be too heavy. I will look down on you for the first time ever, but with love, and gladness from heaven, and you will look up to me again.

	This is our story.

	Amen.
	
	I hope that one day you come to understand this as fully as I have intended it to be understood. In this letter sums up the whole of what I have always aimed to teach you to be. We are all, all of these things at different moments in our lives. I need you to understand that you are strongest when you serve the ones you love, and you do not always have to take a bullet for them to die for them. Keep this in mind in all you do for all you do it for. See everyone you can through the eyes and heart of Jesus Christ, and when you cant see through his eyes pray for the ability, and it will come to you. You'll know it when it happens, there is no way to describe the feeling of a proper prayer, but you will know it.  

	I am proud of you. I always have been, and always will be. I don't think you will do good in life; I know you will. I love you.

	Love, Dad