I have two little boys, and a little girl. The oldest boy is 5 years old. His name is Aidan.

The first time I ever held Aidan, I gave him back to Jesus. I've prayed for him almost every day of his life, and kick myself for the couple of days that I missed.

One night, while staying at a hotel (my wife and I were raising support as missionaries), I sat in the empty stairwell and wept for little Aidan's soul. As I sat there crying, the Lord spoke to me very clearly, "As much as you love him, I love him more."

Right then, I knew that Aidan would be saved some day. God had heard my prayers, but he had sent his Son to die for Aidan a long time before I ever started to pray for him.

On Sept 12, 2009, the boys and I were watching tv. I was flipping back and forth between a football gave and 'Bear vs. Wild.' Aidan pipes up, "I've never asked Jesus into my heart."

Okay, I could have gotten all excited, and opened my Bible and probably scared him away from Christ. Instead, I calmly started talking with him. He said that he was going to wait until he was old and about ready to die (wow! Satan starts early with that lie, doesn't he?). I explained to him that he might die suddenly without a chance to pray. He thought about it, and then said that he would pray today. I made sure that he understood that Jesus died and shed his blood so that he could clean our dirty hearts, and that sin was not allowed in heaven.

He understood and rolled over on the old green couch, covered his face, and prayed.

And little Aidan started his walk with God!