Faithfull Pursuit Of A Father
By Nathaniel Cox, Ben’s Son
My earliest memories are rooted in church life. As a pastor’s kid, our lives revolved around ministry. Our entire community was made up of families from our church, and my parents gave us a firm foundation of faith. By the time I was in college at Appalachian State, I played drums on the worship team, attended church weekly, and was active in the campus ministry at dad’s church..
When I was twenty years old, everything changed.
Turmoil in my dad’s church resulted in his being let go in a deeply painful and dishonoring way. Suddenly, the church where all my friends attended that held so much of my identity became a place I couldn’t stay. I was angry—at people, at the church, and ultimately at God. In my anguish, I told Him to leave me alone.
I dropped out of school, played in bands, and spent a lot of time partying. During that season, I lost my cousin and two close friends all within the same year. Lost, hurting, and directionless, I tried returning to college at Appalachian State, but failed out. I was pretty hopeless about my prospects.
Everything changed when I had a real, intense encounter with Jesus. It felt as though God was pouring love, forgiveness, and truth directly into my heart. For the first time in years, I saw clearly.
When I told my dad about this experience, he was excited. He began discipling me right away, determined to nurture my faith so that it would take root and bear fruit. He was patient in cultivating the change in me and understood my hesitation to return to church after everything that had happened.
What amazes me now is that after all the mistakes I had made, my parents never stopped believing in me. More than anything, my dad demonstrated the heart of the father in Jesus’ parable of the prodigal son. He didn’t greet me with condemnation or remind me of all the ways I had failed. Instead, he welcomed me with love, encouragement, and grace.
Through him and my mom, I learned that repentance is met not by rejection, but by the overwhelming love of God. I learned that there truly is nothing that can separate us from His love.
Eventually, I returned to Appalachian State, earned a degree in physics, and later completed a Ph.D. in Microsystems Engineering.
Years later, in 2020, I found myself struggling again. On paper, life looked great. I had a wonderful wife, a good career, and every reason to be grateful. Yet spiritually I had drifted.
I was overweight, drinking too much, unable to quit smoking, and carrying burdens I didn’t know how to overcome.
Once again, I turned to my dad.
His advice was simple.
“Start carving out time to read the Bible. Go to God first. Seek the King, and everything else will follow.”
Because of the pandemic, attending church regularly was difficult, so we began reading through the Gospel of Mark together. We journaled our observations and met weekly by phone to discuss what we were learning.
What I remember most is how encouraging he was. He was truly a biblical scholar, but despite his incredible knowledge of Scripture, he genuinely celebrated insights I shared and often told me I had noticed things he had never considered. He built my confidence and strengthened my faith.
A year later, I had quit smoking, lost forty pounds, stopped drinking excessively, and was healthier physically, emotionally, and spiritually than I had been in years.
Since my dad’s passing, I’ve realized something that has deepened my appreciation for who he was. I always knew he had a pastor’s heart. I saw firsthand the patience, grace, and encouragement he extended to people. What I didn’t fully grasp was just how far that reach extended.
Story after story has emerged from people throughout the community. They tell me how he gave them his time, listened to their struggles, encouraged them, prayed for them, and pointed them toward Jesus. In hearing those stories, I’ve realized that the love and grace he showed me weren’t reserved for a select few—they overflowed into the lives of everyone God placed in his path.
We used to tease him for talking to everyone, asking endless questions, and showing interest in complete strangers. Looking back, I understand what we missed: he believed people’s stories mattered.
He wanted them to know their stories mattered.
Every conversation was an opportunity to show someone they were seen, valued, and loved by God. I recently found out that he’d met with a friend of mine whom he barely knew. When I asked him why he’d do that, he told me, “I don’t know how much time I have left, but I’m going to spend as much of it as I can pushing back the darkness with light.” And that’s exactly what he did.
This publication, The Journey, is part of that legacy to push back darkness with light. He believed testimonies were powerful because they reveal what God is doing in ordinary people’s lives. He believed that stories could build faith, encourage believers, and help point wandering hearts back to Jesus.
As Scripture says, “They overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony.”
Today, as you hold this publication, you’re holding part of that vision.
My dad hoped these stories would encourage Christians, but I also know he hoped they would reach prodigals like me.
In Scripture, Jesus told a story about a shepherd who leaves ninety-nine sheep to search for the one who is lost. I know that story is true because I was that sheep.
Through the relentless love of God—expressed so faithfully through my father—I was found.
