Life of Dad
I have a significant opportunity for personal growth. To take advantage of my opportunity I must change the way I think about some things. I think my “thinking” is correct but the way I live doesn’t always demonstrate what I’m supposed to know. Perhaps the real issue is whether or not I truly believe what I know. For instance, I can download software to my computer that can improve and enhance my “computing” experience. However, the enhancing and improving doesn’t take effect until I install the software. Installation of new software is a tricky business. There is a certain amount of risk involved. Sometimes new software interferes with the function of other processes or causes other stuff to completely shut down. I guess what I’m saying is that I have some really good “software” downloaded to my mind but it’s useless until it’s installed into my heart. Do I have the courage to change my “heartdrive?”
I am in the process of changing the way I think about my role as “dad.” Currently I think I am shouldering more responsibility for the kind of people my kids eventually turn out to be. With that load there is pressure to perform well. Do I pray enough? Do I encourage enough? Do I discipline effectively? How much responsibility/blame is laid at my feet for the poor choices of my older kids? Is God depending on me or am I depending on God?
I have a hard time explaining to my teenagers why the stuff of Earth that attracts them so won’t really satisfy them. They have no frame of reference or catalog of experience to understand the truth. I ask God to intervene and protect my kids from their ignorance. I ask him to equip me (not help me) to be effective in this role I have chosen for myself.
This business of “free will” messes up my parenting program. As long as my kids are free to choose it doesn’t matter how well equipped I am does it? I could be Dr. James Dobson to the tenth power and it wouldn’t matter as long as choice remains on the table. I think my prayers for protection and intervention are just my way of asking God to give my kids a pass in the painful process of growth. My prayers seem to equal “Oh God, please see that my kids turn out well without allowing them the opportunity to choose you over this world for themselves.”
I recognize that living through the consequences of ones poor choices has much to do with how God draws people to himself. I do a better job trusting that with your kids than I do with mine. I want my kids to “taste and see that the LORD is good.” The reason I know something tastes good is because I’ve tasted stuff that was bitter. I must allow my kids to choose poorly and taste what is bitter. I use the word “allow” as though I have some measure of control in the matter.
My prayers for myself have turned out to be me trying to avoid surrendering to God those who are most precious to me. My prayers for my kids do not allow God to be who he is. They are my attempt to circumvent the necessity of personal surrender to God. God becomes a resource for the stuff I need to maintain control of the parenting process. Because I want to be the hero. I want the glory that belongs to God. Will he at least share it with me and receive a footnote of credit?
I continue to discover that my kids don’t listen to me. They have no idea what a smart guy I am. I see many of our children choosing prestige and popularity over personal peace. I see them choosing money and possessions over security. I watch them surrender themselves sexually without experiencing the profound mystery of intimacy. They arrange and prepare for pleasure and excitement without the necessary ingredient for both: surprise. They are enamored and drawn to the counterfeit because it is within their reach. How does a parent explain to a child that to be filled they must first be empty? If there is going to be peace, someone is required to surrender. Dad has to go first.
While I have been asking God to empower and equip me, he has been quietly and methodically stripping me of what I would depend on apart from him: my own strength, my own wisdom, and my will. So how do I accomplish this role of “dad” now? I am trying to wrap my mind around what an utterly dependent man looks like before his children. I can’t help but think I would appear defeated, weak, contemptible, and spent. For the time being I’m going to tag what I think my appearance would be as a lie. I want to change. I want to take my “parenting program” and turn it inside out.
Instead of asking God to use and equip me to draw my kids to himself, I’m going to ask him to use my kids to draw me more closely to himself. Does that look like abandonment? I think it does. I think I am called to abandon my kids to God because what I most desire for them I am powerless to give them. I want them to love, to know, and to enjoy intimacy with God. Would I rob them of that journey? How does a man impart such things to his children? Can I sit them down and give them verbal instructions as though they were lost travelers asking for directions? If I can get them to listen, will they truly hear? Do they even realize they are in need of direction? I think I know what God invites me to do as it pertains to my family. He asks me to be the man he has told me I am. The secret lies in my influence. The life I live before God is what my kids will see, hear, and remember. The key is not giving my children the map that leads to God and Jesus, but in being a map.
I don’t mean to imply that boundaries for my kids will not be kept and maintained. I’m still not going to allow my daughters to leave the house in Daisy Duke shorts and halter tops. I’m not going to put my sons behind the wheels of cars built only for speed. But within the relative safety of established boundaries I will allow them to fail. I will view their failures as steps on the road that will lead them home. I will allow them to taste what is bitter so that they will recognize what tastes good when it is offered.