Timothy’s dad was Greek. This seems like a small nuance of history; yet I find it utterly fascinating and encouraging.
Timothy’s dad being Greek means he was not a follower of Christ; he was not a believer.
And yet, based on his grandmothers (Lois) and his moms (Eunice) faith he grew up to be a man of great faith (2 timothy 1:5)
He walked along side Paul and spread the good news of Christ; he wrote two books of the Bible! And his dad was not a believer.
I worry about my Chris, and how his lack of faith will affect our children. He is good man, who loves us all, but he doesn’t know the unending love of Christ and is very factual and self reliant. Vulnerability and love that passes understanding do not come easily to him.
Sometimes I worry about silly things, when I should just go to the Word.
It is clearly written, after all, God is in me, and so, in my home. Thus, he surrounds Chris and my children daily (whether they like it or not, whether they believe it or not.) We are flooded by His presence through my faith – that is powerful.
I also believe faith can move mountains and grow mustard trees, and can defy logical thinking. God is fighting for them through me.
Sometimes the weight of that falls heavy. Yet, when I turn to the Word I’m reminded the outcome isn’t mine to determine. I am but a messenger, a fishermen, a farmer, planting seeds.
When and where the seeds will take root and produce isn’t up to me, that’s up to my God. My job is much simpler. Plant the seeds in love and when the season is right, they will grow.
“He sleeps and rises night and day, and the seed sprouts and grows; he knows not how. The earth produces by itself, first the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear.” Mark 4:27-28
After all, Timothy’s dad was greek.