This week, something happened in my life that I knew would be meaningful, but I did not fully understand just how deeply it would reach my heart.
A little backstory first, I remember a day, a little over 24 years ago, as if it were yesterday. It was the day I became a dad. I have said often that I learned more about God on that day than on any other day of my entire life. I learned unconditional love. I understood the willingness to sacrifice for those you love.
Fast forward 21 years. I gain a new daughter when that same son marries the love of his life. Fast forward one more time to this week. That same new daughter gave birth to their first child, and in that moment, I crossed a quiet but sacred line. I became a grandparent.
I have preached sermons, stood behind podiums, traveled to conferences, and walked with people through some of the most significant moments of their lives. I have dedicated my life to ministry, leadership, and helping others navigate calling and purpose. Yet nothing quite prepared me for the weight and wonder of seeing my granddaughter for the first time.
There is something about seeing a new generation enter the world that recalibrates your soul.
As a father, I understood responsibility. I understood provision, protection, and leadership. Fatherhood stretches you, humbles you, and forces you to grow up even while you are helping someone else grow. But being a grandparent introduces a different kind of emotion and awareness. It is less about striving and more about savoring. Less about control and more about gratitude.
When I looked at that tiny face, I was overwhelmed by two simultaneous thoughts.
First, how fragile life really is. Second, how faithful God has been.
This child represents prayers that began long before they were ever spoken out loud. Generational faith is never accidental. It is formed through countless unseen moments, family dinners, bedtime prayers, faithful church attendance, hard conversations, forgiveness, and grace. This is not just a baby, but evidence of God’s kindness across generations.
Scripture says, “Children’s children are the crown of old men (not sure I like that part, but I can’t argue with the Bible), and the glory of children is their father” (Proverbs 17:6). I have read that verse many times. I have quoted it. I have even preached it. But verses change when they move from the page into your life. Suddenly, words that once felt poetic now feel personal.
Watching my son step into fatherhood has been one of the quiet joys of my life. You never stop being a parent, but at some point, you get to step back and watch. You get to see the values you tried to live out begin to take root in someone else’s life. Not perfectly, but genuinely. That alone is a gift.
And then there is my daughter-in-law, now a mother. Strength, courage, tenderness, and exhaustion all wrapped together in one holy calling. Motherhood changes a woman in profound ways, and watching her step into that role with grace has been humbling and inspiring.
My entire family is experiencing major transition points in their lives. My wife and I are becoming grandparents. My oldest son and daughter-in-law are now parents. My daughter is graduating from college in a few months (as a 20-year-old and in three years). My youngest son is graduating from high school in a few months (and will be his class’s valedictorian).
This season of life has also caused me to reflect on time.
Time moves faster than we think. Seasons change quicker than we expect. One moment you are teaching your child how to ride a bike, and the next moment you are holding their child in your arms. Life does not slow down for us, but it does invite us to pay attention.
This moment has reminded me to treasure what matters most. Not platforms, not productivity, not applause, but people, specifically, my people. Family. Faith. Legacy.
Legacy is not what you leave behind, it is what you live out in front of others. It is the values you model, the priorities you protect, and the love you consistently show. My prayer is that this child and all my future grandchildren grow up knowing they are deeply loved and prayed for every day, and that they learn early what it means to walk with God.
I do not know everything this new season will hold. I do know this, my heart has expanded. I have a deeper appreciation for God’s patience with me, His generosity toward my family, and His promise to be faithful from generation to generation.
I am grateful. I am humbled. I am full of joy.
And apparently, I am now “Papa.”Lord willing, I plan to wear that title well.
Randy Harp 