Lydia started tearing up tonight as I put her to bed (when we always have our best conversations, though they drag on much too long!) as she began telling me about the plight of the little Christian school where they all attend part time. It suffers from two (no doubt) related matters: first, she and a friend once counted the number of children at the school without a father at home to be about a third of the entire body. Second, the one and only male teacher got married and moved away this summer.

What hurts her so much is not only missing the man, but more so feeling the pain of these other children in not having a male influence in their lives. There is such an orphan spirit on these kids, and she feels it. Weeping, she pleaded with me to pray about coming to teach at least one class there. “I know they would have the deepest respect for you, and you are such a cool guy and a great dad. They need that so much, Daddy.” She went on to give all the reasons why it would fit within my mandate to raise up leaders, and I couldn’t say a word in opposition. “Just because they are kids, doesn’t mean you can’t raise them up as leaders, right?”

The leaders of the school have already pleaded with me to teach a Bible class, and I told them what I told Lydia: I want to teach those who can teach them.” Problem is, there are no such men. WHERE ARE THE MEN???

It’s a question that eats at me often. Now the thought of my daughter’s troubled plea will too.