He's heard the rumors about his parents' divorce -- that his father was unfaithful. But he insists they are false -- that his father did everything he could to save the marriage.
Andy is vague about his mother's condition. He says she is under 24-hour care and he visits her often.
Only he and his sister, Becky, know the truth, he says. (Becky declined to talk after initially agreeing.)
"I love my mom. In her prime, she was an incredible woman," Andy says. "Something just caught up with her, and my dad took all the grief for her."
Charles doesn't seem to spend a lot of time reflecting on that grief. He's still preaching and traveling the world. One of his favorite pastimes is going to bookstores to sign copies of his book. (His latest, "The Ultimate Conversation: Talking With God Through Prayer" was just released.)
He says he won't marry again as long as his ex-wife is alive because the Scriptures say that a divorced man who remarries commits adultery.
"I couldn't be happier," he says. "I don't really need a wife. God has just filled my life with good things."
Sitting in his cavernous office at In Touch Ministries, he pauses at times to dab tears from his eyes as he recalls his ordeal.
"Instead of destroying me, it flung the doors open for me," he says of his divorce. "People used to say, 'I couldn't watch you. What do you know about hurt, pain, and loneliness? Now I can watch.' I look back now and realized that God used that all for good."
Would that good, though, include the end of the "unspoken dream" -- the expectation that his son would follow him at First Baptist and In Touch?
That is the question that hangs over father and son now. Charles has built a global religious empire, and he has a gifted son who is renowned as a leader.
Wouldn't it be better to pass it all to Andy one day?
Charles sighs before answering:
"I look back now and say God was in all of this. If we had stayed together, we could only be so large."
Instead, two world-renown megachurches stand in Atlanta, each headed by a Stanley.
"He tells people he's proud of me," Andy says. "He ends our conversations that way: 'Andy, I'm proud of you.' ''
Still, his father reserves one critique for his son's pulpit performance.
"He still wants me to wear a suit."
The two now visit each other's churches. One visit, captured on film, reveals how far their relationship has come.
North Point's staff was planning an informal Christmas communion service last December when someone suggested that Andy call his father to see if he would lead the service.
Andy texted the request to his father and within five minutes, his father texted back: "I would be happy to!"
When his father arrived at North Point, Andy stepped onto the stage to introduce him. He wore a sober, dark suit coat over jeans.
"When people tell me that they enjoy my preaching, I always have the same answer: 'You know what, I got it all from God and my dad, in that order," he said.
Andy smiled and looked at his dad seated in the audience.
"I'm extraordinarily blessed, extraordinarily grateful, and I'm thrilled Dad that you are here to talk to us and lead us through communion."