Like most, if not all, things worth doing, “dadding” is hard work. This is not necessarily unexpected — we all “know” life changes a lot when we become parents, and it won’t always be easy. But, I do think that the challenges that actually lie before a young dad are uncharted and unexpected in that we don’t readily understand the degree to which life will actually change and that our responsibility will change. If you have ever followed my writing before, you know that it is no secret that I place a high level of expectation on men to be what they are called to be; that being self-sacrificial and benevolent leaders who take responsibility for those they are called to care for and are under their influence– in this case, their child– is insurmountably important. Their child: a son or daughter, entrusted to them. In my life right now, there are a lot of babies being born to a lot of amazing couples, some being their first, and so new dads are on my mind. And so, to the young blood fathers (of which I still am), here are a few things I had to learn– and hopefully you can learn through my mistakes.
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Sleep is for the weak – unfortunately. For real though, this season of your life is sleepless compared to the 10am wake ups you used to have – and I want to properly warn and encourage you. Before my daughter was born, another young dad asked me if I drank coffee much, to which I said no – kind of proudly – I didn’t need it. To which he responded, “you’ll start to.” It was his way of telling me that adjustments were coming, and I needed to be prepared. Was I prepared? No. But how does one prepare for little sleep, lots of interruptions during sleep, and a crying baby? You don’t, but you learn how to manage. Here is what you can’t do, though: use your tiredness as an excuse to be a jerk. Your wife is tired too, probably more-so than you, and so you need to drink your coffee, take a nap, go to bed earlier, and remember that, in time, you will adjust, and you will start to function better on less sleep, simply because you have to. But the redemptive nature to this? Tiredness pulls your guard down and your character comes out, in some ways for good but, mostly, let’s be real, for bad. Like I said, it’s no excuse, but when the flesh is weak, we show our true colours. Which leads to my second point.
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Your Character will be exposed as it is – not as you want it to be. This is one that ends up being painful to experience, but necessary for growth. When I got married, I found out that I was way more selfish and comfort seeking than I had previously thought. Marriage exposed the weakness in me; and, in the same way, so did Livy when she arrived (and again Weston did too). The father I hoped to be and the father I was were worlds apart. The gentle, caring, selfless, joyful, present, engaged dad I wanted to be was confronted by the selfish, angry, frustrated, distracted, me-centered man that still existed in me. Although I had grown a lot in the grace of God, I was still wasn’t the man I wanted to be. And so, get ready for a fight. A fight against pride, laziness, comfort, anxiety, and insecurity. Fatherhood is difficult enough as it is – raising a human is no light task – but to do so while still trying to become a better human yourself adds fuel to the fire. Your first act of fatherhood is to become the kind of person who will be a good father – the discipline of growing the character of a person worthy to be one. Fatherhood is a privilege as much as a responsibility. For me, the model is Jesus. I have come to realize that what my kids need is not more of Mike, but more of me looking like Him – which is the goal of spiritual formation anyways. That’s the vision God has for my fathering – my being the kind of father Jesus would be to my kids. And if we don’t fight for our character to grow, well …#3…
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You are going to mess up your kid somehow … my goal is to do it as minimally as possible. The more people I talk with, the more I realize that everybody has a father wound. I heard one pastor say he never met a guy without one – and usually the ones who protest the most that they don’t are the ones with the deepest ones (more on that in a later post). And when it comes to my own kids, I am under no illusion that I will be the one dad who won’t do it, who won’t give his kids a wound, but the reality of it puts a healthy fear in me to do what I can to minimize the negative impact I could have, and maximize the positive impact I hope to make. It may not sound like a glorious picture of fatherhood, but I think it’s honest. We will hurt our kids inevitably – my goal is, in the grace of God, to do it the least I can. How? Refer to #2.
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Someone is always watching – apparently, I have catchphrases. I know this because my son has them now too. When I get frustrated apparently I say, “Come on!” And so when Weston gets frustrated he says the very same thing. Often. Often enough, I am second guessing everything I say – which is probably a good thing. But what second guessing teaches me is simple: whether I intend to or not, I am teaching my kids all the time. I am showing them how to do life without speaking to them, I am enculturating them into how I do life for good and bad, and, as cheesy as it is, a lot is caught more than taught. Kids are observant learners. From the words you say, to how you brush your teeth, to how you deal with frustration, all of it leads your kids to learn something. Another challenge presents itself, then: is your life worth replicating? To some degree, it will be.
Fatherhood is awesome, while it is difficult. But it is so worth it. I can’t imagine going back to the time before my kids showed up. The value of being a father really comes back to your character. If you want to be a good dad, become a better person.
Dads: you don’t have to be your kids’ all-time hero. Just point them to the One who actually is.
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