On Being a Father

On being a father

Of all the things I have loved doing in my life, being a father to our boys has been the greatest of all. I am not sure why that is so. All I know is that from the day our first son was born something wonderful happened, and as I looked in awe at this newborn baby that Barbe and I had created, I  realized that I was being given the greatest gift, the greatest responsibility and the greatest opportunity in this world. All of this was summed up in one word; Father.

On the Father's love

The life change that had prepared me for this moment had taken place a little over three years previous. I had come to know my Heavenly Father in a profound and life changing way. The hardness of my heart, the selfishness and the hurts of the past were slowly being erased and replaced with a new and gentler spirit. As I experienced firsthand the love He has for me, surely it prepared me to love my own children in a way I probably never would have or could have done before.

On quantity time versus quality time

From the age of 18 months, each of my boys took turns going in the truck with me. Right up until the day we left for Honduras. Those years I spent with each of my sons roaming the highways of America are the best memories of my life. I have often heard the debate over whether or not quality time with your children is better than quantity time or vice versa. Having experienced both I can tell you the answer. It is neither one nor the other. It is the combination of the two that creates the relationship and develops the character. Without a quantity of time there can really be no quality time, because it is through the quantity that quality happens, unscheduled and unplanned it comes about as naturally as the transition of the seasons.

On friendship

My boys are my best friends. They always have been. When the boys were young, sometimes being  "father" came before being "friend" - and we discussed that. Now that they are young men, that is reversed. Sure, I'm still respected as Dad, but our relationship has changed and continues to do so as it has shifted into an adult friendship. Even though the three older boys no longer live with us, we continue to spend huge amounts of time together, working or just hanging out. I love being with them. 

As we work together to build a family business, we have all had to learn to work and communicate with each other in new ways. It's been challenging, but rewarding. I tell them often that should their desires lead them away from here, I'll support them completely in any life decision they make, but I can tell you this with certainty. I wouldn't be as happy as I am here in Honduras if they weren't here with me. After all, they're my best friends.

On discipleship

I've seen all the evangelical books written on how to disciple your children. I've even read a few. I have listened to hours and hours of Christian radio. There's some good stuff out there, but here's the thing; I never intentionally discipled my boys. I always meant to and I've even felt guilty when it didn't happen, but it seems like life was always happening and somehow I never got around to it.

My views on all of that have changed. 

I watch my boys, well they are no longer boys, but young men. I watch them live their lives, make decisions, make choices. They are not perfect, but they are young men of conviction, integrity, honest and trustworthy, respectful. They understand the value of  good customer service, of a good work ethic and are learning to take responsibility for their failures. As I watch them I realize that these are my own values. I didn't sit them down once a week and teach them these things. Instead, what happened was that as we lived life together, day after day, week after week, year after year, as we spent a quantity of quality time together, they learned from watching me. Sometimes we did discuss values and beliefs, but mostly it was just us, living and doing life together. That's discipleship. Oh by the way - don't worry. You don't have to be perfect at living life. Some of life's greatest lessons where taught at my worst moments. It's all about how we choose to respond when it's over.

On breaking the generational curse

Whether we want to admit it or not, we take with us into our own families some of the bad things we learned from our parents who probably learned it from their parents. These are called generational curses because they are passed down from generation to generation. We don't intentionally pass it on, but in order to break the curse, it must be done intentionally. 

In our family we have a generational curse that my dad passed down to us. Did it come from his parents? I don't know, but I suspect it did. That curse is the avoidance of discussing any hurts and wounds caused to or by each other. Instead we avoid it and each other and in it's extreme we have been known to "disown" a family member if they have offended severely enough. My dad and his younger brother had a falling out many years ago and didn't speak to each other for over 40 years. 

My dad passed away two years ago. He found out he had terminal cancer and had only two weeks to live. Most of his children were there for those two weeks. I think all of us hoped that before Dad passed away that he would bring healing to us by talking about the wounds and the hurts of the past, by telling us he was sorry for his failures as a father, that we were deeply loved in spite of everything. Predictably, and even in the face of eternity, he studiously avoided any mention of the past. No I love yous. No attempt to make things right. Instead, the generational curse boldly flaunted itself during those two weeks, taunting us even as the moment to end it passed unredeemed. And we all like fools went right along with it, letting the curse control us, succumbing to it's lie that it's better to just avoid the past. And now those things can never be said this side of eternity. Oh, how I regret it.

I am not ashamed to admit to the tears that are running down my face even as I write, and as I write these emotions I find myself talking to my dad, telling him I love him and that I forgive him, and vowing to myself once again that my children will always know how much I love them, because I decided long ago that in my own life I was breaking the curse, and in my own family - that curse is ended. There is nothing my children can do or say that will make me love them any less than I do at this moment or than I ever have. No choice, no anger, no lifestyle, nothing. They are my children and I will love them until the day I die with an unfailing love, and I tell them that - often.

On a Daddy's love

I love George Straits' song "Love without end, Amen". The refrain goes like this:

"He said, "let me tell you a secret about a father's love,

A secret that my daddy said was just between us.

 He said, "Daddies don't just love there children every now and then.

It's a love without end, amen, it's a love without end, amen."

On one hand it makes me sad, because I wish I could tell my boys that it really is "a secret that my daddy said was just between us", but that just isn't so. On the other hand, I'm happy when I see them loving their 4 year old brother Carlitos, the way they talk to him, explain things, listen to his endless questions, take him with them when they go out. I'm happy because I know that they themselves are going to be good fathers and someday they will sing this song, with all our family's story, to their own children - and mean every word of it.