I was going somwhere in my 1928 Dodge and met my pastor coming the other way. He was driving the 1956 vintage semi tractor/trailer that hauled our evengelism tent and gear. The year was 1976 and these vehicles were already easy-to-spot classics; we both pulled over and jumed out to greet. I was 22 years old and had given my life to Christ under his ministry the year before. We didn’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of things because I was wrong about a lot of things, but he was patient with me. His willingness to disciple the hordes of young people coming into the church had captured my sense of destiny.

     On the side of the highway, Pastor Norm gave me a hug that I still remember 40 years later. Maybe because this was the first and probably the only time we ever spent a few moments together, just the two of us. Oh, how I longed for this.

     Before Christ, my life had become meaningless, but now I met Jesus and His purpose for me – wow, inspiration beyond my wildest dreams. I needed someone to teach me, show me, and promote me into my destiny.

     Things go wrong, not necessarily bad things, just circumstances that remove people from where you need them to be. Most great destinies are orphaned by such circumstances. Yes, most. If we lost only nine out of ten we would be doing much better than we are now. In those days over a thousand young people, kids like me, were saved in our church, and of the hundred of us who became brothers in destiny, only a handful have stayed true to the vision. I knew then that if I didn’t walk with Jesus I would walk away from Him; salvation and purpose are inseparable.

     But bad statistics don’t help me.

     I can not succeed in this life without the empowerment of an inheritance. I need hope, vision, wisdom – I need a father. I need someone who’s already been where I’m trying to go, someone I can follow to the very end and then like Elisha cried out to Elijah, “My father, my father and the chariots of God,” and receive my double portion of everything he had. I am destined to accomplish twice what my fathers have, and my children must double that again, at least.

     How may fathers walk by you and fail to notice the destiny you carry? It’s because they don’t see clearly, or they are distracted by less important things. When the cry for fathers falls on deaf ears, potential is lost.

     A disconnect between generations will force reset the upcoming generation back to zero. They will have to build a new foundation rather than continuing where their fathers left off.

     What can new generations do to gain the attention of the fathers?

     Next week: A Passion To Beget