To Mark in Kansas City
“Michael, my son’s 23. He told me last week he doesn’t believe in God anymore. We raised him in the church. He memorized verses, went to youth group, even led worship a few times. I’m trying not to push, but inside, I’m crushed. I can’t stop wondering where I went wrong.”
Mark,
Let’s get one thing straight: this isn’t all on you.
You taught him truth. You lived it the best you could. And now he’s a grown man, choosing his own trail. That’s not failure. That’s life. That’s what freedom costs.
But I won’t lie to you — it hurts like hell. When a son turns his back on what you built your life around, it’s not just disappointment. It’s disorientation. You start questioning everything. Yourself. Your legacy. Your prayers.
But listen to me: this is the threshing floor — not just for him, but for you. It’s where what’s real gets separated from what was borrowed.
You’re not just watching him walk away. You’re watching him try to figure out what’s true when the scaffolding of your faith doesn’t hold him up anymore. And that’s not always rebellion. Sometimes, it’s the first honest step toward owning his own beliefs — or wrestling them out with God face to face.
Let him wrestle.
Don’t chase him down with verses. Don’t try to box him back into belief. That won’t work, and it will only push him farther. What he needs now isn’t another sermon. He needs to see a man who doesn’t flinch when faith gets questioned. A father who stays rooted, steady, unshaken.
That’s your job now. Stay the course. Keep the fire lit at home. And if he ever turns around, make damn sure he sees grace — not guilt — waiting for him on your porch.
You don’t have to pretend you’re not hurting. But don’t let the pain turn into pressure. Let it turn into prayer.
Luke 15 wasn’t about control. It was about a father strong enough to wait, and merciful enough to run when the time came.
So don’t stop loving him. Don’t stop praying for him. But don’t take the burden of his soul and confuse it for your own reflection. That’ll crush you.
God is still writing. Even when it looks like your son’s gone silent, God hasn’t.
Hold your ground, Mark. And let him see that even if he questions the existence of God, he can’t question the steadiness of his father.
With grit and grace,
— Michael
Michael Vowell: Reflections on Grace, Love, and Leadership 