{"id":421,"date":"2025-07-08T10:00:00","date_gmt":"2025-07-08T14:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ideasworthwrestlingwith.com\/?p=421"},"modified":"2026-01-22T22:37:20","modified_gmt":"2026-01-23T03:37:20","slug":"final-laps-first-steps-biblical-headship-family-legacy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ideasworthwrestlingwith.com\/en\/final-laps-first-steps-biblical-headship-family-legacy\/","title":{"rendered":"The Final Laps and the First Steps: A Biblical Vision of Headship, Legacy, and Family"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p>I\u2019ve been thinking a lot lately about time. Not in a panic-stricken way, just a sober, quiet awareness. Weddings tend to do that. Watching young couples say yes to forever, while parents and grandparents watch from the sidelines\u2026 it stirs something. A sense that life is moving. That seasons are shifting. That some of us are just stepping onto the track, while others are rounding the final turn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I saw my mom dancing with my niece at the wedding, her little hands gripped tightly in my mom\u2019s as they spun in wild, joyful circles. My niece was laughing loud, jumping up and down with that carefree, unburdened energy only kids have. And my mom, strong, smiling, radiant, matched her rhythm with grace. It was loud and sweet. Tender and unfiltered. Youth and age in one spinning whirl of a song. And it hit me: this is legacy. Not someday, but <em>right now<\/em>. Not just in the big speeches or the milestones, but in the unrepeatable moments we\u2019re tempted to overlook.\u00a0 In the moments that pass too quickly to frame. And I thought about how easy it is to miss them, because we\u2019re busy, or distracted, or just trying to hold it all together. But those moments matter. They <em>are<\/em> the story.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>And if we\u2019re not careful, we\u2019ll spend our lives trying to lead from a place of control, instead of covering the people we love with intentional, sacrificial presence. We\u2019ll try to manage outcomes instead of stewarding hearts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>So today, I want to talk about what it means to lead well. As a man. As a son. As a hopeful future husband and father. I want to talk about biblical headship, not as dominance, but as surrender. About legacy, not as perfection, but as presence. And about family, not just the one we\u2019re born into, but the one we choose to build, love, and protect.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>This isn\u2019t about having all the answers. It\u2019s about asking the right questions before time runs out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>There\u2019s a phrase that\u2019s been echoing in my spirit lately, simple, but weighty:<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><strong><em>Headship means going first in sacrifice. Submission means going first in trust<\/em><\/strong><em>.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>That\u2019s the blueprint. That\u2019s what God intended marriage, and all godly leadership, to reflect. Not control, not dominance, not hierarchy for the sake of ego. But Christ. The One who gave up status and comfort and came not to be served, but to serve. The One who laid down His life when we were still getting everything wrong.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Paul lays it out in Ephesians 5. He starts with this: <em>\u201cSubmit to one another out of reverence for Christ\u201d<\/em> (v. 21). That line frames the entire passage. Mutual submission. Mutual honor. Mutual laying down. This isn\u2019t a one-way power structure. It\u2019s a gospel-shaped dance of grace and humility.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>From there, Paul speaks directly to husbands and wives. And it\u2019s easy to get caught on the line that says <em>\u201cWives, submit to your husbands\u201d<\/em> (v. 22). But we forget what follows: <em>\u201cHusbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her\u201d<\/em> (v. 25). That\u2019s not a call to rule, it\u2019s a call to die.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The Greek word used for \u201csubmit\u201d is <em>hupotass\u014d<\/em>, a voluntary act. Not something forced. It\u2019s about trust, not inferiority. It\u2019s about supporting one another in God\u2019s design, not disappearing into someone else\u2019s shadow. And the word for \u201chead\u201d isn\u2019t about dominance, it\u2019s about being a source of life-giving leadership. Like Christ is to the Church.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>So husbands, let\u2019s be real: headship doesn\u2019t mean you always get it right. It means you are <em>responsible before God<\/em> for how you lead, how you listen, how you love. <strong>A husband who models Christ must lead with a willingness to die, to ego, comfort, and control<\/strong>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>And wives, your submission isn\u2019t to perfection. It\u2019s to God\u2019s design. Even when your husband falls short (and he will), your trust in God shines through your posture. That kind of strength is anything but weak. It\u2019s courageous. It\u2019s Christlike.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Headship, biblically, is not about demanding authority, it\u2019s about embodying responsibility. Philippians 2 shows us how Christ led:<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>\u201cThough He was in the form of God, He did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself&#8230; taking the form of a servant\u201d<\/em> (vv. 6\u20137).<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>That\u2019s the posture. That\u2019s the model.<br><strong>Leadership in God\u2019s kingdom always looks like laying something down.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>We\u2019re all running our race, but not everyone is on the same lap. Some are just finding their stride. Others are quietly approaching the finish line. And if you slow down long enough, you start to see the sacred space where those laps overlap.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>That\u2019s what I felt at the wedding. Watching young couples like Joey and Sierra, or Connor and Chloe, say yes to new beginnings, stepping into adulthood, into marriage, into responsibility and legacy. And then looking around the room at people I love, people who\u2019ve been quietly running their race for decades, people who carry the kind of love that isn\u2019t loud anymore, but <em>deep<\/em>. That contrast didn\u2019t feel like tension. It felt like <em>testimony<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I still think of the dance my mother and niece shared. My niece was all energy, grabbing her grandma\u2019s hands, bouncing up and down, spinning wildly in circles. Laughing loud, like only a child can. And my mom, nearly seventy, still strong, still smiling, matched her pace with joy. That moment wasn\u2019t small. It was everything. The beginning and the nearing-end. Innocence and wisdom. Joy and gravity. All in a whirl of music and movement. That wasn\u2019t just a dance.<br><strong>That was legacy in motion.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Scripture says, <em>\u201cTeach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom\u201d<\/em> (Psalm 90:12). That doesn\u2019t mean we\u2019re meant to dwell on death, it means we\u2019re meant to value life rightly. Numbering our days isn\u2019t about fear, it\u2019s about perspective. About waking up to the fact that time is short, yes, but also deeply meaningful. It\u2019s not a call to panic. It\u2019s a call to presence. To wisdom, not worry. To intentional love, not rushed obligation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>And legacy, real legacy, isn\u2019t about what you leave <em>after<\/em> you&#8217;re gone. It\u2019s about what you plant <em>while<\/em> you&#8217;re here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>\u201cI am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that dwelt first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice\u2026\u201d<\/em> (2 Timothy 1:5). Paul didn\u2019t just commend Timothy. He honored the generations behind him, the ones who sowed truth in quiet ways before anyone saw the fruit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>That\u2019s what I see in people like my mom. Like my Uncle Mike and Aunt Pam. Like others who may not even realize the impact they\u2019re making. I see quiet strength. Chosen joy. Love that shows up in casseroles and carpools and late-night prayers no one hears but God.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The final laps don\u2019t always look like decline. Sometimes they look like presence over performance. Sometimes they look like a grandmother spinning on a dance floor with her grandchild. Or a dad tearing up as his grown son says vows. Or opening his home for a family celebration, not knowing how many more moments like that he\u2019ll get. Sometimes they look like sitting in the front row at a wedding. Or choosing joy in the middle of chemo. Or showing up, again, because love says it\u2019s worth it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>To honor legacy is not to mourn what might be lost, it\u2019s to bless what already is, and to steward what\u2019s still to come.<br>The ones who raised us may not run forever, but while they do, may they know they are seen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>And maybe that\u2019s the point.<br>We don\u2019t know how many days we have left.<br>But we do know this:<br><strong>Today is one of them.<\/strong><br>And maybe that\u2019s enough, to love deeper, lead well, and live like it matters.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Family is beautiful, but it\u2019s also messy.<br>It\u2019s late-night phone calls and long seasons of silence. It\u2019s holiday smiles that hide unresolved tension. It\u2019s forgiveness that\u2019s still in process. It\u2019s love that sometimes hurts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Some of us carry pain that sits just beneath the surface, a father wound, a prodigal sibling, a child we don\u2019t know how to reach anymore. Some carry guilt for what we could\u2019ve done differently, or grief for the way things used to be. And some walk into family spaces already braced for impact, hoping for peace but preparing for pain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I think of my friend who wants so deeply to reconcile with his brother, but every attempt is met with old wounds, sharp words, and closed doors. He\u2019s not bitter. He\u2019s heartbroken.<br>I think of my own relationship with my dad. It wasn\u2019t always easy. There were stretches of silence, years we couldn\u2019t quite reach each other. But his passing brought me closer to God. And while the journey wasn\u2019t perfect, I loved him. I <em>still<\/em> love him. I trust Jesus with his soul. And I trust Jesus with the story He\u2019s telling through it all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>That\u2019s what gives me peace:<br><strong>God doesn\u2019t need perfect families to do perfect work.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Romans 8:28 says God uses <em>all<\/em> things. Not just the clean things. Not just the polished ones. But the broken things. The regretted things. The things you\u2019d rather not talk about.<br>Genesis 50:20 echoes this truth, Joseph says to his brothers, <em>\u201cYou meant evil against me, but God meant it for good.\u201d<\/em> That\u2019s not just an Old Testament story. That\u2019s a promise we can cling to when reconciliation seems impossible, when the phone doesn\u2019t ring, when the healing hasn\u2019t come yet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Even from the beginning, the fall fractured families, and we\u2019ve been feeling the ripple effects ever since. In Genesis 3:16, God says to Eve, <em>\u201cYour desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you.\u201d<\/em> That word \u201cdesire\u201d in Hebrew suggests conflict, a grasping, a tension in the relationship. It wasn\u2019t God\u2019s design, it was a consequence of sin. A distortion of what was once unified.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>But Jesus came to redeem that. Not reinforce it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Throughout Scripture, we see broken families:<\/p>\n\n\n\n<ul class=\"wp-block-list\">\n<li>Cain killed his brother.<\/li>\n\n\n\n<li>Jacob and Esau warred from the womb.<\/li>\n\n\n\n<li>Joseph\u2019s brothers sold him into slavery.<\/li>\n\n\n\n<li>David\u2019s son tried to take his throne.<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n\n\n\n<p>And still, God worked. Still, God redeemed. Still, God fulfilled His purposes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>In a letter I wrote to a family member recently, I said, <em>\u201cOur role is to walk with them, not over them.\u201d<\/em> That\u2019s the posture of grace. It doesn\u2019t mean we ignore truth or stay silent when boundaries are needed. But it means we show up differently. Humbly. Open-handed. Willing to love even when it\u2019s hard. Willing to believe God still moves in the middle of the mess.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Because He does.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>So if your family isn\u2019t perfect, good. Neither is mine. Neither were any of the families in Scripture. But God\u2019s not waiting on perfection. He\u2019s asking for participation. He\u2019s asking us to trust Him with the mess and to keep walking in grace and truth, even when it hurts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Headship isn\u2019t about being right. It\u2019s about being <em>responsible<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>It\u2019s not about having the final say, it\u2019s about being the first to serve. The first to repent. The first to stand in the gap when things go wrong and offer your own heart as a covering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>That\u2019s what Christ modeled for us. <em>\u201cHusbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her\u2026\u201d<\/em> (Ephesians 5:25). He didn\u2019t assert dominance, He laid down His life. His leadership wasn\u2019t loud, it was low. He nourished, He cleansed, He lifted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>To be a man under God\u2019s design is to <em>cover<\/em> those entrusted to you. Not to control them. To build shelter, not pressure. To be a steady roof in life\u2019s storms, not a ceiling that stifles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I\u2019ve seen that kind of headship firsthand in my life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I saw it in my Uncle Mike, how he leads not just with structure, but with steadiness. How he opens his arms, his heart, and his home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I saw it in Connor and Joey, young men stepping into manhood with a posture of humility and quiet strength.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>And I saw it in Rodney, how he stepped in when no one else did. He gave a young man in our family something he\u2019d never had before: direction. Not control. Not force. But a hand on the shoulder, a call to grow, a model to follow. It\u2019s up to that young man now. But Rodney did what men are called to do, he covered, he led, and he let go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>It\u2019s important to name this rightly: biblical headship, as taught in Scripture, is a specific calling to husbands, to lead their families with Christlike sacrifice, humility, and love (Eph 5:23\u201325).<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>But the spirit of covering, of protecting, nurturing, and guiding with strength and tenderness, can reflect Christ in anyone. Women like my Aunt Pam, who nurtures through cancer without bitterness, who keeps choosing love, day after day. And especially in my mother, who carries her family with fierce grace and gentle wisdom. They have modeled this faithful presence beautifully. While not <em>headship<\/em> in the technical sense, their faithfulness carries the aroma of Christ\u2019s leadership. And that matters too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>And I saw it in a new kind of family. Two young men, proud new additions to our family, who didn\u2019t get dealt the easiest beginning. But love found them. Chosen love. Adopted love. A love that reflects the Father\u2019s heart, <em>\u201cGod sets the lonely in families\u2026\u201d<\/em> (Psalm 68:6). That\u2019s not just poetry. That\u2019s kingdom culture. That\u2019s what happens when spiritual headship says, <em>You belong here. I\u2019ve got you. You\u2019re safe.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Biblical headship isn\u2019t loud. It doesn\u2019t demand attention. It creates it. It holds the door open, not just for a wife, but for anyone God has placed under your covering, biological or chosen, present or prodigal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>And let\u2019s not miss this: <strong>1 Peter 3:7<\/strong> commands husbands to honor their wives as <em>co-heirs<\/em> of grace. Not subordinates. Not sidekicks. Co-heirs. Equal in worth, different in role. It\u2019s not hierarchy, it\u2019s harmony.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Headship isn\u2019t control. It\u2019s covering.<br>And a good covering never crushes, it <em>protects<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>There\u2019s a strange stretch of life where you start to realize, you\u2019re no longer just someone\u2019s kid. You\u2019re someone\u2019s legacy in motion. And maybe\u2026 someone else\u2019s covering, too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>You\u2019re not at the start line anymore. But you\u2019re not near the finish either.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>You\u2019re in the <em>middle<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>And this is where most people get stuck, caught between honoring the past and stepping into purpose. Unsure how to lead without overreaching, love without enabling, or let go without feeling like we\u2019ve failed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The place where you\u2019re watching your heroes run their final laps, while stepping into your own. Where you\u2019re still being formed, but people are watching you now, too. Listening to you. Needing you to show up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>So what do we do here?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>We <em>honor<\/em> those who\u2019ve gone before us, and we <em>steward<\/em> what\u2019s been placed in our hands.<br>We don\u2019t try to control what we can\u2019t. We listen well. We love steadily. We show up even when it\u2019s awkward. We forgive even when it\u2019s messy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Paul says it beautifully to Timothy, a young man stepping into leadership, carrying the weight of a generational legacy:<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI am reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice\u2026 For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God\u2026\u201d<br><em>(2 Timothy 1:5\u20136)<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>It\u2019s a rhythm of legacy and leadership. Of receiving and releasing. Of learning how to hold sacred both the voices that shaped us <em>and<\/em> the ones still forming behind us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Ecclesiastes 3 reminds us, <em>there is a season for everything<\/em>. For speaking and staying silent. For stepping forward and stepping back. For holding tight and letting go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Sometimes love looks like protection.<br>Other times, it looks like permission.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Romans 12:18 reminds us, <em>\u201cIf it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.\u201d<\/em> That won\u2019t always mean agreement. But it will always mean <em>intentionality<\/em>. The hard work of listening, releasing, and bearing each other\u2019s burdens when we can (Galatians 6:2).<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>This season, the one in the middle, calls for a different kind of strength. Not the loud kind. Not the controlling kind. But the <em>quiet strength of people becoming who they were created to be<\/em>, even if no one notices but God.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Maybe your family doesn\u2019t look like mine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Maybe your story includes divorce, estrangement, or years of silence. Maybe you were the one who walked away, or the one left behind. Maybe your family is fractured, distant, or already gone. Maybe the people who should\u2019ve led you didn\u2019t. Maybe you\u2019ve been left to figure it out on your own, wondering what \u201clegacy\u201d even means when all you\u2019ve known is loss. You\u2019re not disqualified from love or legacy. The gospel is full of grafted-in stories. And God\u2019s family is big enough for yours.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Understand this: <strong>God still writes stories through broken lines.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>You don\u2019t need to earn your place in a family rooted in love.<br>You don\u2019t need to prove yourself to belong in a story God is still redeeming.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>\u201cGod sets the lonely in families.\u201d<\/em><br>-Psalm 68:6<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>That verse is more than poetry. It\u2019s a promise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>A promise for the foster child, the orphaned soul, the spiritual wanderer. A promise for the young man who\u2019s never been told what it means to lead, and the young woman who\u2019s never been shown what it means to be covered in love.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>God does not waste pain. He does not overlook the overlooked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Even James, the brother of Jesus, said it plainly:<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>\u201cPure religion is this: to care for orphans and widows\u2026\u201d<\/em><br><em>(James 1:27)<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>If no one taught you how to run your race, <em>you\u2019re still not disqualified.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>If no one ever walked with you, <em>that doesn\u2019t mean you\u2019re meant to walk alone.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Legacy doesn\u2019t begin with perfection. It begins with <em>presence<\/em>.<br>It begins with choosing love, even when you\u2019ve never seen it modeled.<br>It begins with walking forward, even with trembling steps, toward the family God is building, <em>the one He\u2019s placing you in, and the one He may be calling you to help lead someday<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Headship is like a dance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Not domination, but connection.<br>Not rigid control, but a rhythm of trust.<br>One leads, the other follows, but both move together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>It\u2019s not always elegant. Sometimes we step on each other\u2019s toes. Sometimes the music feels off. But when love is the melody, grace becomes the beat we move to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>This is the legacy we\u2019re invited to leave: not one of perfection, but of presence. Of showing up with open hands and a willing heart. Of choosing to cover when it would be easier to control. Of choosing to stay when it would be easier to shut down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Because without love, all leadership is meaningless (1 Corinthians 13).<br>Without love, headship is hollow.<br>Without love, legacy ends with us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>But love, <em>true love<\/em>, never ends.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>\u201cA new commandment I give you,\u201d Jesus said, \u201cthat you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this, all people will know that you are my disciples\u2026\u201d<\/em><br><em>(John 13:34\u201335)<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>That\u2019s the mark. That\u2019s the melody.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>But legacy isn\u2019t just about what we leave behind.<br>It\u2019s about what Jesus gave for us, so we could begin again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He saw our brokenness, and didn\u2019t look away.<br>He stepped into time, into pain, into a world fractured by sin.<br>And instead of staying distant, He came close.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Jesus lived the life we couldn\u2019t.<br>Died the death we deserved.<br>And rose again to give us new life, now and forever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>This is the heartbeat of headship.<br>This is the covering every heart longs for.<br>Not religion. Not rules.<br>But a Savior who says: <em>You\u2019re mine. You belong. Let me lead you home.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>And the good news? Even if your family has fractured. Even if your leadership has faltered. Even if your dance has stumbled<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>\u201cBehold, I am making all things new.\u201d<\/em><br><em>(Revelation 21:5)<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>That\u2019s God\u2019s heart for your story. For your family. For your legacy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>If this stirred something in you, don\u2019t carry it alone.<br>Reach out. Wrestle with it. Cry if you need to. Pray with someone you trust.<br>And above all else\u2026 <strong>keep choosing love.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Because love <em>is<\/em> the dance.<br>And legacy moves in step.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>In a world where family is often fractured and legacy feels elusive, Final Laps, First Steps explores what it means to lead, love, and let go\u2014biblically and beautifully. Through stories of young men stepping into manhood and elders running their final laps, this essay reflects on headship not as dominance, but as sacrifice. It honors the messy middle of family, the sacredness of chosen kin, and the call to cover\u2014not control\u2014those entrusted to us. Grounded in Scripture and soaked in grace, this is a call to live and lead like it matters\u2026 because it does.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":422,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"default","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"footnotes":""},"categories":[35,36,4],"tags":[39,45,38,40,43,37,41,42,44],"class_list":["post-421","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-leadership-discipleship","category-spiritual-resilience","category-truth-grace","tag-biblical-headship","tag-christian-family-roles","tag-christian-leadership","tag-ephesians-5-marriage","tag-fatherhood-and-faith","tag-generational-faith","tag-gospel-centered-family","tag-legacy-and-family","tag-servant-leadership"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/ideasworthwrestlingwith.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/421","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/ideasworthwrestlingwith.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/ideasworthwrestlingwith.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ideasworthwrestlingwith.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ideasworthwrestlingwith.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=421"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/ideasworthwrestlingwith.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/421\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":439,"href":"https:\/\/ideasworthwrestlingwith.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/421\/revisions\/439"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ideasworthwrestlingwith.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/422"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ideasworthwrestlingwith.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=421"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ideasworthwrestlingwith.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=421"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ideasworthwrestlingwith.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=421"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}