From Regret to Redemption: A Father’s Letter to His Children, Nick and Megan, and the Journey Back to the Kingdom
There’s a kind of pain that sits just beneath the surface of your soul—not loud, but always present. It moves with you. Sleeps next to you. Rides with you in silence when you're driving and no one else is in the car. It’s the ache of regret.
And as I sit here writing this, with the weight of years pressing on my heart and the presence of God pouring over me like grace in waves, I can finally name my deepest regret:
That as your father—your single dad—I didn’t show you the truth of the Kingdom when you needed it most.
Nick. Megan.
I need to say this to you with the clearest words I have.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry for the years when I was convinced that God didn’t exist.
I’m sorry for planting seeds of doubt instead of faith.
I’m sorry for choosing skepticism over surrender.
And I’m sorry that, for too many years, I let the noise of the world drown out the whisper of the Spirit.
You were just 9 and 7.
Young.
Vulnerable.
Looking to me to anchor you.
And instead of pointing you upward, I pointed you sideways.
I said things like, “It’s more plausible that aliens put us here than some invisible God,” and I convinced myself that I was being rational. Scientific. Grounded.
But what I didn’t realize then was that I was building a house on sand—and worse, I was handing you the blueprints.
A Father’s Grief and a Heaven-Sent Wake-Up Call
There’s no greater gift than being a father.
And there’s no greater sorrow than feeling like you missed the mark when it mattered most.
If I could go back, I would.
I would go back to those nights I tucked you in with logical certainty but spiritual emptiness.
I would go back to those conversations where I spoke confidently about things I didn’t truly understand.
I would go back to the moments when you asked about heaven and I brushed it off with a shrug, or worse, a smirk.
And I’d do it all differently.
Because on November 4, 2020, everything changed.
That was the day your dad—this dad—was reborn.
That was the day the skepticism cracked, and the light finally got in.
That was the day the Father in heaven grabbed hold of me and refused to let go.
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” —2 Corinthians 5:17
And now that I know the truth… now that I’ve met Jesus and felt the power of His presence… all I want is to rewind the story and write a new one with you.
But I can’t rewrite the past.
What I can do is tell you the truth now.
What I can do is live differently.
What I can do is make sure that from this day forward, you never doubt again who God is—or how deeply I love you.
God Does Exist—And He’s Better Than I Ever Imagined
When I used to say things like, “Maybe aliens made us,” I wasn’t trying to be flippant. I was trying to make sense of the mystery.
But I see now that mystery doesn’t mean absence.
Mystery means majesty.
I thought God was too big to be real.
Now I know He’s so real, He’s even bigger than I thought.
I thought faith was fiction for the weak.
Now I know it’s the foundation for the strong.
I thought religion was just manipulation.
Now I know relationship with Jesus is the truest freedom I’ve ever felt.
And here’s what really wrecks me:
Even when I rejected Him, God never stopped loving me.
“But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” —Romans 5:8
While I was mocking Him…
While I was dismissing the Cross…
While I was leading you both into a fog of uncertainty…
He was still pursuing me.
Still drawing me in.
Still speaking through people, through pain, through quiet moments.
Still planting seeds of truth that would finally bloom when the time was right.
And now that I know who He is, I can’t keep it to myself.
Nick, Megan—You Are My Legacy, But His First
To be your father is my highest earthly honor.
But you were never just mine.
You were His first.
You were knit together by a God who knows every hair on your head, every dream in your heart, every fear you’ve wrestled with.
“For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.” —Psalm 139:13
You carry His image.
You were born with Kingdom purpose.
You were designed not to just survive life—but to impact eternity.
And I want to spend the rest of my days making sure you never forget that.
I can’t undo the early years.
But I can dedicate the rest of my life to helping you see what I failed to see back then:
That Jesus is real. He’s alive. And He is the answer to everything.
I Wasn’t Equipped Then—But I’m All In Now
Back then, I didn’t know how to lead you spiritually.
I didn’t even know how to lead myself.
I thought provision was enough.
I thought if I kept you fed, clothed, entertained, and enrolled in the right programs, I was winning.
But I missed the biggest piece of the puzzle.
I didn’t lead you to Jesus.
And for that—I carry deep sorrow.
But hear me when I say this now:
The father you have today is not the man you knew then.
This new dad—the one God birthed on Nov 4, 2020—is all in.
All in for truth.
All in for repentance.
All in for restoration.
All in for helping you become who God created you to be.
Three Ways I’m Reaching Back to Rebuild the Bridge
If you’re reading this and you’ve got your own regrets—maybe as a parent, a friend, a believer—know this:
God doesn’t erase the past. But He does redeem it.
And while we can’t change what happened, we can rebuild.
We can reach back.
We can let our healed scars become bridges for someone else.
Here are three Spirit-led ways I’m choosing to reconnect with the past to show Nick and Megan—and anyone else—the joy of the Kingdom:
1. Confess and Own the Past Without Excuses (Humility Is the Start of Healing)
This is the hard part.
But it’s the holy part.
I’m not blaming my past on ignorance, culture, or the hardships of being a single dad.
I’m owning it.
I spoke words that carried weight.
And some of those words built walls where I should have built altars.
“Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed.” —James 5:16
True healing starts with honesty.
So Nick and Megan, I say it again:
I’m sorry.
I led you with logic, but not with faith.
I gave you protection, but not always purpose.
And I ask for your forgiveness.
Because from this place of humility, God has shown me how to walk differently—and I want to walk with you now.
2. Testify to What God Has Done (Your Story Becomes Someone’s Roadmap)
I’ve wasted too much time wishing I had a different story.
But now I see—my story is the testimony God gave me for His glory.
“They triumphed over him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony…” —Revelation 12:11
Every time I share what God has done in my life…
Every time I speak of that transformation moment on Nov 4, 2020…
Every time I declare how far He’s brought me from…
I’m not just talking about me.
I’m lighting a path for someone else.
For you, Nick.
For you, Megan.
For the next person who thinks they’ve messed up too bad or waited too long.
This is why I write.
This is why I speak.
This is why I won’t stay silent anymore.
Because people need to know it’s not too late to come home.
3. Live the Kingdom Now With Passion and Purpose (Let Joy Become Your Legacy)
I can’t go back and show you the joy of the Kingdom when you were kids.
But I can live it fully now.
“The kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, but of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.” —Romans 14:17
I want our new memories to be filled with joy.
Not fake happiness. Not performance.
But real, Holy Spirit joy.
I want us to laugh around dinner tables.
To worship together in church.
To talk about heaven with confidence.
To open the Bible and find life in the pages.
To pray for each other, not as strangers, but as family in Christ.
I want our home—our story—to be marked by Kingdom culture.
That when people walk through the door, they feel something eternal.
Because if I leave anything behind, let it be this:
A legacy of joy in Jesus.
The Father Heart of God Redeems Even This
I used to think my mistakes disqualified me.
Now I know:
They just positioned me for grace.
Because even as I failed to show you the Kingdom, God was still a good Father.
And He’s inviting all of us—me, you, every reader—into a deeper walk with Him.
“See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!” —1 John 3:1
You’re not too far gone.
I’m not too far gone.
There’s always room at the table.
And I hope, from this day forward, we take our seats there—together.
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