God Builds With Broken Pieces: What My Father's Story Taught Me About Who I Am
My father was known for the bar, not the church. At 46, a few minutes in a prayer meeting changed everything. What his story, and my mother's faith, taught me about being a builder.
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People know me today as a builder. An engineer, a pastor, a mentor, a father.
But I didn't come from a perfect blueprint. I came from a story God built out of broken pieces.
This is my father's story. And in a lot of ways, it's mine too.
The Man Everyone Knew
My father was funny. Everyone said so. He was the one telling jokes, the one people liked being around. After work, you could find him at the bar.
But the people who only saw that side of him didn't see what we saw at home. My father drank. And when he drank, he was abusive.
That's hard to write. But I'm writing it because the end of his story only makes sense if you know the beginning.
The Woman Who Stayed
My mother had every reason to leave. She thought about divorce. She explored it.
But she chose to stay, because she believed God would touch my father. Not change him a little. Touch him.
I want to be careful here. My mother's choice was hers, made in prayer, in her season. If you are in an abusive situation today, her story is not a rule that you must stay. Your safety matters, and getting help is not a lack of faith.
What I want you to see is what she did while she waited: she prayed. She kept going to prayer. Quietly. Faithfully. For years.
A Few Minutes
One afternoon, my father dropped my mother off at a prayer session, the way he usually did.
This time, she asked him to stay. Just for a few minutes.
He did.
That was it.
Jesus Christ was waiting for him in that room.
My father was 46 years old.
The Preacher Nobody Expected
The man known for jokes and the bar became a preacher.
He left everything behind. He became a prayer warrior. He became a pastor to the unchurched, to the kind of people he used to be, the people who would never walk into a church on their own.
He didn't have a long runway. Six years later, he went home to be with the Lord.
And that's when we found out.
People we knew showed up to celebrate his life, and so many more came than we ever expected. We had no idea how many lives he had touched. His impact was hidden until the day he was gone.
A nurse who was with him at the end told us his final words were a prayer.
The last word she heard my father say was "Hallelujah."
What My Father Taught Me
I've spent a lot of my life building things: systems, teams, programs, a family, a ministry. Here is what my father's story taught me about building.
1. It's never too late. My father met Jesus at 46. He had six years. God did more with those six years than most of us do with sixty. If you think your story is already written, it isn't.
"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)
2. A few minutes can change a lifetime. My mother didn't ask him to change his whole life. She asked him to stay for a few minutes. Never underestimate a small invitation. You don't know who is waiting in the room.
3. Hidden faithfulness is never wasted. My mother's prayers were hidden for years. My father's ministry was hidden until his funeral. If you've read my Rooted, Built, Wired series, you know I believe this deeply: nobody sees the foundation, and that's exactly why it holds. I learned that from my parents before I ever wrote it down.
4. God is the builder, and He builds with broken pieces. This is the biggest one.
God didn't wait for my father to be fixed before He used him. He used the broken pieces: the drinking, the anger, the wasted years. Those became the very things that made my father able to reach people who would never listen to a "perfect" pastor.
And I've learned that God does the same with me.
My broken relationships. My sins. My shortcomings. My ego. I used to think those disqualified me from building anything that mattered. Now I see them as material in the hands of the Builder.
"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." (2 Corinthians 12:9)
"Unless the LORD builds the house, those who labor build it in vain." (Psalm 127:1)
The Builder I'm Becoming
When I look at who I am today, I see both of my parents.
I see my mother in my persistence. In believing God for things I can't see yet. In praying before the storm, not just during it.
I see my father in my calling. In wanting to reach people who would never walk into a church. In knowing, deep down, that no one is too far gone, because I watched God reach the man everyone else had given up on.
God called me to be a builder. But I'm not the master builder. I'm the one being built.
Your Broken Pieces
Maybe you're the father in this story. Maybe you're the mother. Maybe you're the child who grew up in between.
Here's what I want you to know: God is not afraid of your broken pieces. He builds with them.
Take a minute and ask yourself:
- What broken piece of my life have I been hiding from God?
- Who in my life am I still praying for?
- What small invitation could I make, or accept, this week?
My mother asked for a few minutes. God took it from there.
If this story speaks to you, send it to someone who has been praying for a long time. They need to know it's not over.
Scripture quotations are from the ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), © 2001 by Crossway. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
I'm Emmanuel. I'm an engineer, a pastor, a mentor, and a father. If you want to read more about how prayer has carried me, start with Prayer Is Why I Am Still Standing. More at the blog, or reach out directly.
