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I loved Teddy and missed him terribly, but I decided I couldn't interfere with a chance for happiness in his life. I waived my rights, hoping it was the best thing to do for my son.

Now, years later, I was kneeling before God running these things through my mind again. As I began praying, I didn't lament over my heartache. I didn't beg or plead with God to restore my son to me.

I simply asked prayerfully, "Lord, my son is a grown man now. He is capable of making his own decisions, and there isn't much I could do to interfere with his life. I love him and miss him. Please just let me know what kind of a man Teddy has turned out to be. Anything more than that I leave in your hands. In fact, Lord, I don't even know where to start looking for him, so I am truly leaving it all up to you. Please let me know my son. Amen."

As I left that prayer service, the Lord gave me peace from the words of Malachi 4:6—"He will turn the hearts of the fathers to their children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers."

The rest of the week I went about my normal routine and forgot about my prayer. But God hadn't forgotten.

The Saturday after the prayer meeting, I ran into our pastor at the post office. After I collected my mail from my box, we started to chat. As I scanned through my mail, a letter caught my eye.

I couldn't place the name or the return address. As the pastor commented on Sunday's church activities, I started reading the mysterious letter.

"Are you okay?" he asked me. Tears were rolling down my face. I couldn't speak; I handed him the letter I had just read—from Teddy.

Teddy explained that he had decided to search the Internet for me. This letter was one of 47 letters that my son had written to Richard Whetstones all over the country. Then I noticed the postmark: it was dated Wednesday, the day after my Tuesday night prayer. This wasn't a coincidence. This was a direct answer to my prayer.

When I told my wife Rose, she was excited because she had encouraged me to try to find Teddy. Since I hadn't mentioned my Tuesday night prayer to her, she was even more thrilled when she learned the whole story.

I decided to call Teddy that day, but I was nervous as I dialed the phone number in Amarillo, Texas. When he answered the phone, I said I had received the letter and I was his father. (I later learned that Teddy thought the call might be a prank.) We agreed to pursue the relationship further.

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