Discovering Fatherhood

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  • A New Tradition

    As a Youth Minister I have come to see that 95% of the issues many kids have are in one way or another related to daddy issues. Whenever I have a kid come to me about drugs, behavioral, social, spiritual, sexual and or emotional issues a majority of the time it all goes back to their relationship with their father or lack of one. The flip side to this is that whenever I have kids who are confident, happy, and generally doing well it is because they tend to have a good relationship with their father. When I counsel teens I always ask them about their relationship with their father. Typically, this is where I get many of the answers I am looking for.

    I have read several articles and studies on the importance of fathers being present in the lives of their children and they all say the same thing and confirm what I experience in youth ministry. Frankly, it pisses me off. If I can be blunt.

    I recognize there are countless of factors as to why fathers can be inadequate, absent, not good enough, but whatever the reasons the result is always a damaged child. Maybe not badly damaged, but definitely with issues.

    I do not want my daughter to have issues because of me.

    So as of yesterday I am starting a new tradition. At least once a month until my children get married, enter religious life or move really far away I am going to go out on dates with them. I’ll come up with a better name than ‘dates’ for the boys, but for now that’s what I’ll call it. I will take Claire out on a date with me. We will go out just her and I and spend some quality daddy time. We may go to the park, chase things, pray, get Chick-fil-a or all of the above. The point is to spend time with my daughter and build a relationship where she recognizes her dignity, worth and that she is loved beyond all things.

    These dates right now will be simple. We will spend them hanging out and helping establish her confidence by going down slides, or walking across the playground bridge by herself. As Claire gets older the dates will be a little different, the conversation will deepen, but my hope is that she will never have the insecurities and issues that are caused by a missing, uncaring, or physically-present-yet-not-there-father.

    I’m not crazy. I know my daughter will still have issues—we all do. However, whatever those issues are I pray they will not be due to something I did or didn’t do. I don’t know if there is a list out there that fathers can consult to see if they are doing things right and helping their kids to be confident, recognize their worth and dignity. I think spending quality time, showing you love them and asking forgiveness when we fail is definitely key to this.

    So for now I have to come up with creative ideas for taking my 13-month-old girl on a date. I welcome any thoughts!

  • A Year In


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    Its still mind blowing to me, but my daughter is a year old. One full year zoomed by. I’ve been looking back over the past year and here are some things I wanted to share a year in:

    • You will never be ready to be a father in the grand scheme of things. You can read every book, go to seminars, pray all day—all of which are great things to do, but you will never be ready. It is okay. Be a father anyway.
    • Prepare your house before the baby comes. I installed a gate on my stairs 6 months before Claire was born. It was soooo smart. Don’t wait till the baby is born!
    • Sleep is over rated. Seriously, we only need a solid 5-6 hours to function. You can sleep when you die.
    • Be your wife’s greatest fan. She had this child come out of her body! She deserves praise! The more you love her and serve her before and after the baby is born the easier her recovery will be and the more she will love you.
    • Get involved! Sure you can’t breastfeed them at night, but you can give them a bottle, change diapers, bathe them or rock the baby to sleep. Don’t be a dead beat—man up!
    • Reusable diapers are good in theory. They absolutely suck in practice. You want to be green and recycle—get a trashcan just for mixed papers. There’s your tree hugger tip of the day.
    • Give your kid quality time. My daughter won’t remember the moments I spent gazing and smiling at her, or playing with her feet. Her memory won’t remember, but somehow a child is able to retain those experiences and connect with those actions, which nourishes and nurtures them.
    • Go out on a date. You will probably talk about the baby all night long, but you deserve and need a night to be a couple.
    • It is possible to cook, clean and do the normal things post baby—you just need to make time for it. If your anal like me, relax and know that some of those projects may take weeks instead of hours to get done.
    • Take pictures and videos. Capture those moments and cute things your kids do that will disappear in the next few months. However, don’t be one of those people that lives their kids childhood through a cell phone screen.
    • Give yourself away. The more you try to hold on to your time the less you will enjoy it, the less meaning you will find. Yes you need some alone time, but remember life is meant to be lived for others.
    • Be interruptible: This is probably the thing I struggle with the most. If I have something planned I want it to go my way, but a lot of time there are interruptions and we have to be willing to give them permission. Sometimes those interruptions are better than anything we had planned.

    Being a father is hard work, but also amazing. I’m sure next year this list will look different, but for now these are things that I have noticed and wanted to share about my journey of discovering fatherhood.

  • Beams

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    Yesterday I finished putting together a boxed perimeter around my daughter’s little playground area in our yard. It consisted of a couple of 6x6x12, and other similar sized beams and some metal stakes to connect them. Eventually we will fill it with rubber mulch and put her swing set on top of it. It took me about three days total to put the beams together.

    As I was buying the beams at Home Depot I couldn’t help but realize how heavy these things were. As I began to assemble the box perimeter in the yard there were a few times when I dropped the beams, stumbled carrying them or got a splinter from them. These beams were crazy heavy and big—twelve feet of anything is going to be heavy!

    It was a labor of love for my daughter.

    Yesterday was Good Friday. All of Christianity celebrated the death of its savior, Jesus. As I assembled these beams I had this reality on my mind. Jesus carried his beams. The wood was heavy and as I moved, dropped and dragged it I was reminded of Jesus journey to Calvary. After the beams were set the metal stakes were driven through the wood to connect them. My hammer struck the metal stakes and clinked, each time reminding me that metal stakes are what held my Lord on His beam.

    Clink, clink, clink.

    As I drove the last stake I got up exhausted. “It is finished,” I thought. I looked onto these wooden beams and found satisfaction. “My daughter will find so much happiness and joy playing here.” I wonder if this is what God the Father thought as He looked on His son and His beams? “My children will find satisfaction through this.” I never expected to have such an awesome, prayerful experience building this wooden box for my daughter. It was truly a gift.

    May we see that the beauty of the cross, though filled with pain, exhaustion, and blood, was a labor of love. May we discover more than just our own fatherhood.

  • Cor Meum

    heart in handIt is hard to believe, but my daughter turned a year old two weeks ago. I blinked and she had teeth, hair, and now she moves. Everyone says that the first year flies by and everyone is right.

    My wife and I had a little birthday party for Claire at our home with family. Someone asked me, “How does it feel to have a kid?” I gave a simple reply, “its amazing.” It is amazing, but there is so much more to it than that.

    This is what I was really thinking.

    I feel like the moment my daughter was born my heart was ripped out of my chest. No anesthesia, no scalpel, no warning—ripped out. It was given arms, legs, and the ability to move. My heart was no longer secure and protected by my rib cage. It was out, exposed, and vulnerable. My heart was no longer mine. In this exposed and vulnerable state, I loved it and yet feared for it. My heart—I guess I should call it by her new name, “Claire”—is the most painful and most beautiful thing to ever happen to me.

    Claire moves, falls, cries, laughs, and smiles. Each movement, action, and emotion tugs at me. It is an incredible metaphysical-like-experience. She smiles and I feel it, she cries and I experience it, she laughs and I enjoy it. The feeling of this walking, breathing, and exposed heart is much more sensitive. My heart has never felt like this before. I have never had it hurt or be filled with joy so easily.

    It is something words cannot fully describe.

    It doesn’t just end with Claire and me. My wife and I are united in this indescribable metaphysical-like-experience. We simultaneously feel when our heart falls and hurts herself. We can be overwhelmed by our heart’s piercing laugh and tear up at her beauty as we gaze at her. My wife and I are more vulnerable and exposed than ever before.

    It is beautiful and excruciatingly frightening, but love always is.

    The crazy thing is that when my wife and I have more kids this will happen all over again. As we all know we cannot give part of our heart to someone…it is all or nothing. So, if we have 3 kids, each one of them will have my heart completely. I can’t comprehend how I can possibly experience that amount of joy, pain, and beauty all at the same time, but that is what Grace is for.

    If it feels like this while she is 1 year old I might just die when she is going out to the movies, is hanging out with friends, or—oh dear, God—when she goes out on her first date!

    It is beautiful and excruciatingly frightening, but love always is.

  • Beauty and the Beast

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    My daughter Claire has a really cool relationship with our dog. I guess most kids do but since this is my first experience with the whole canine, Homo Sapien relationship it is neat to experience.

    Rocky is a mutt that has ¼ Pit bull, ¼ Boxer and ½ of what we think is Rhodesian Ridgeback. A pretty unique mix if you ask me. When we first got Rocky he was all about cuddling with you and being playful. He is almost 5 and is still the same but 70lbs bigger.

    We were not sure about whether or not the dog-baby relationship would work out. Growing up I never had a dog and I had heard that dogs could get jealous and sometimes attack children because they felt threatened. When we brought Claire home the first day we did the whole “introducing” thing where Rocky got to smell her and see there was a new favorite in town. Rocky was curious about her but never got territorial or jealous.

    Fast forward a year later and you will find Claire rolling on top of Rocky trying to take his dog toys. Rocky will let her take it out of his mouth and then gently, get it back from her. Rocky will sit patiently by Claire’s high chair as she eats, because he knows she will toss him a scrap or two. There are benefits to this relationship on both sides. It is amazing to see that Rocky recognizes that she is fragile and that he cannot play with her the way he does with other dogs, my wife or I. Somehow this beast knows that our little beauty is to be treated with the upmost care. For example, a few months back I heard Rocky give a loud yelp. When I went into the room he was in I found him still as stone with my daughters hand in his mouth. Claire had discovered his tongue and wanted to keep it for herself. Rocky didn’t bite or do anything aggressive he just waited for her to release it and then went to the other side of the room. I guess he needed a time out after that.

    There are the occasional moments when Rocky will run past her and knock her to the ground by accident, or have his iron rod tail hit her upside the head. His tail really hurts when it gets you. For the most part he is a really good dog and knows how to act with Claire. However, I’m not just going to leave her alone with him. Rocky might be a great family dog, but he is still an irrational animal and you never know what could happen.

    Still Rocky surprises me.

    There have also been moments when people come over and Rocky gets between them and Claire until we give him the okay. Rocky’s instincts seem to tell him that this little one needs to be protected and I appreciate that.

  • Her Smile

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    A little something I came up with after taking this picture of my daughter. Not a Shakespeare sonnet, but its from the heart.

     

    Her Smile

    It is like a light that pierces my darkest parts.

    A force that in its gentleness moves and awakens my heart.

    Like Grace, it soothes and calms me. It seeks and finds me.

    Her smile makes me smile; yet it does so much more.

    It wells in me a flame of joy as in lore of old.

    It is as if Gods power were manifested in the bend of lips.

    Her smile makes me smile; yet it does so much more.

    It helps me realize that I must grow. Grow to be a man that is strong.

    To protect and see her through. So that her smile may always shine on and be true.

    Her smile makes me smile; yet it does so much more.

    It changes and molds. It shatters and breaks all that is false.

    A small and simple gesture has the power to put a smile on my face for hours.

    Her smile makes me smile; yet it does so much more.

  • Dust

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    Today is the beginning of Lent and in the Catholic Church it begins with going to Mass and having ash put on your forehead with the following words said, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return”.  It is kind of a weird thing to say, but it is a physical symbol of death. We recognize that we were created out of the dust and that we will die and become dust again.

    There is nothing like the reality of death to put things into perspective.

    Death is that inevitable elephant in the room that no one really wants to talk about. Death is very real and it will come to all of us. If you have ever spoken to someone who is dying they will usually talk about things like family, friends, relationships they had. Rarely does a dying person talk about wanting to get the latest iPhone or regretting not having more stuff. Death pushes away the junk of life and prioritizes it.

    Thankfully I am not dying, but I still need to prioritize, reflect on my relationships—the things that are really worth living for. Lent begins with dust—death—but more importantly Lent ends with life, new life. A life that is better than the one we have. At the end of Lent we have Easter, the empty tomb, resurrection—New Life.

    Lent is an intense time of prayer, repentance, sacrifice, reflection, denial, surrender to God, acceptance of our weakness, recognition of blessings, etc. At the end of Lent I should have a new focus, a renewed desire for all that is most important: God and family. Not stuff.

    My wife and daughter need a husband and father that is being purified of all that is not good. They deserve the very best of me and I can’t give them that if I don’t take stock of where I am and focus on the important things of life. It’s too easy to get distracted and knocked off course. That is why I love having Lent every year to help me refocus.

    I think that if every father took these next 40 days to pray, reflect, repent, sacrifice, deny, surrender to God, accept our weakness and recognize all our blessings we would be better men. The men our families deserve, the men God has called us to be. In the end we will all face death…return to the dust. I hope that we can all face death joyfully, with the understanding that it isn’t the end but the beginning of something great, a New Life.

    May this Lent transform us all!

  • Nails

    Hands and feet

    One of the more challenging things I do with Claire is trimming her finger and toenails. I remember the first time I did it. It was traumatic—for me. I had the clippers out and was able to get a few fingernails in a half hour. I was so scared I would take a chunk of her finger! I didn’t take a whole finger, but unfortunately I got a little bit of skin and it bled. Man talk about feeling like a bad father.

    At 10 months old trimming her nails isn’t a traumatic experience anymore, but it is still challenging. I find myself giving her shinny things to look and hold with one hand, while I try and trim her nails with the other. It is a bit rough to say the least. Claire is able to twist, turn and yank her limbs away all while screaming at the top of her lungs. I guess this is why surgeons have anesthesia.

    A few days ago we were at it again (I swear they grow overnight). Claire fought like a mad woman. I would try to calm her with monkey noises (one of her favorite sounds), handing her a tiny flash light we keep by her crib, and finally by trying to reason with her. The monkey sound was the only slightly successful tactic. At one point I pinned her down and tried overpowering her, but quickly realized that this would only lead to more trouble.

    Force never works.

    As I stood frustrated over Claire, clipper in one hand and pinning her with the other I came to the realization that Claire’s attempts to keep me from trimming her nails is something I do…with God.

    God is constantly speaking to us—even to those of us who believe He isn’t there. God is constantly trying to steer us towards Him and all that is good. God does all He can to help us to see that what He has to offer is what we need. I’m sure God has His own monkey noises for us; shinny things to attract our attention and heaven forbid He would try to reason with us. I know I fight Him just as much as Claire fights nail trimming.  Claire’s nails must be trimmed so she doesn’t hurt herself, but she will fight it. There are things in my life that must be “trimmed” yet I fight it.  I kick and scream and in the end the only thing I’ve done is cut myself with my own nails.

    I often wonder how incredibly frustrating it must be to be God. To have a bunch of whinny, difficult and crazy children that reject every good and perfect thing He offers. It must be exhausting and infuriating. As I think these things Claire smiles as she lies pinned down by my hand.  I smile back and realize that even in Claire’s fighting and whining I love her beyond her fighting me. I know this is a lesson for me. In all my fighting, whining and rebellion God still loves me.

     

  • It’s My Fault

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    I have been wanting to write a post like this in the last few weeks and then I read this post from a fellow blogger named Matthew Warner. He says it way better than I could. Enjoy! Here is a link to his awesome blog: The Radical Life.

    Being a father is a radical responsibility. One that’s been neutered of its uniqueness and weight and reduced to a mere luxury of the human economy. Well, we may have produced an economy of hard working men (and women), but we’ve also enabled a generation of slacker dads. Even the “good dads” are slackers. And I’m intent on not being one of them.

    If my family is not praying enough or doesn’t know how to pray together, it’s my fault.

    If my family lacks direction and inspiration and vision, it’s my fault.

    If my children don’t know what generosity and selflessness look like, it’s my fault.

    If my children do not know God, it’s my fault.

    If my children don’t know what a hard working, faithful, loving, disciplined, kind, holy, gentle, patient, strong man looks like, it’s my fault.

    If my children don’t feel secure about who they are, it’s my fault.

    If my son doesn’t know how to be a real man, it’s my fault.

    If my daughter doesn’t know how she’s supposed to be treated, it’s my fault.

    If my children don’t know what it feels like to be loved and what real, sacrificial love looks like, it’s my fault.

    If my children don’t know what forgiveness and mercy look like, it’s my fault.

    If my children don’t know how to respect authority, it’s my fault.

    If my children don’t know that the hard stuff in life is the stuff most worth doing, it’s my fault.

    If my children don’t know to pursue truth over comfort and faithfulness over success, it’s my fault.

    If my children don’t know what humility and honesty look like, it’s my fault.

    If my house does not serve the Lord, it’s my fault.

    If I, as their father, don’t do these things, who will? Who will? If it’s not my responsibility, whose is it? My wife has unique responsibilities of her own and many of these others we fulfill together. But ultimately, in my family, if these things don’t happen, it’s my fault.

  • This World

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    In the Christian Sacred Scriptures and Sacred Tradition there are two ways that the world is referred to. First, as Gods creation that He gave to humanity as their place to dwell, and be stewards of. In this sense the world is good and part of Gods plan. In the second sense the world is referred to as an active, aggressive system of structures, values, principles and relationships that are evil and opposed to God and His people. In this negative sense we are not speaking of the physical earth itself, instead, it is the spirit or culture of the world.

    The last few weeks I have seen things online, read articles, etc. that have made my heart heavy. Whether it’s some of the things from the 2014 Grammy’s or something as simple as what I see in commercials or Facebook. I find myself wondering why is this world so messed up? I don’t mean like natural disasters messed up. I’m talking about the complete and total lack of morality and doing good. The lack of striving for virtue and those things that are righteous and holy. It seems like all we see is the complete opposite of virtue. That everything the world tells us to strive for is directly opposed to holiness. It’s sickening.

    I recently heard someone say that they don’t ever want to have kids, because the world is so corrupt. Can you really argue with that? It is corrupt. It is aggressively corrupt. Yet, not having kids because of the potential that this world will devour them and turn them into another cog in the corruption wheel doesn’t seem right. You can’t really pack up and go into the wilderness to flea the world either.

    I sit here thinking of my next thought. As I do this I stare at my daughter in her innocence, waving and smiling at me. All that is pure and beautiful is in my daughter, untouched by the spirit of this world. Claire is a manifestation of Gods love and grace in a 23lb package.

    However, will the spirit of this world eventually devour her?

    Will Claire become part of this second way of understanding the world? Will she become another tainted person who falls to the lies of the world and goes against Gods way? I hope not. I think that my wife and I are doing everything we can to make sure that Claire is a virtuous, holy woman. We surround ourselves with people that try to live virtuous, moral lives. This is something that I think is at the heart of many parents’ desires for their children. I wrote about my desire for Claire to be a Saint in one of my original blog posts. Yet in all we do, say and show to her the world has a million more ways of conveying its immoral garbage.

    It is a bit overwhelming.

    I guess that it is easy to despair by how aggressive this world is in trying to derail all of us—especially when we think of our children. Yet in those same Sacred Scriptures and Sacred Traditions I referred to above we have stories of men and women who lived contagious examples of morality, virtue and holiness. Men and women who stood firm against this aggressive system of structures, values and principles and overcame it by Gods grace. Men and women who inspired others to “wake up” so to speak from the worlds grasp and seek the good.

    Maybe you and I are supposed to be those people today? Maybe our kids are the new saints to combat the world’s loss of virtue and morality? I am deeply afraid of what the spirit and culture of this world could do to my daughter, but I am also excited at the thought of what my daughter could do for this world.  God raises up saints through every generation, men and women who are beacons of light in a dark and desolate land. I pray that our children may be these beacons, that with the grace of God they can reveal all that is true and beautiful, all that is holy and all that is virtuous.