The Joys of Fatherhood - A New Series

I figure the time has come to finally close the chapter on the series of “Observations of a Transitioning Officer”. As bitter sweet as it is to say that I am no longer “transitioning” out of the military and “integrating” into life on the outside, I am and I have. I do have one more article (to be published). But it begs the question of, “what do I write about next?”

Well, there are plenty of other topics I considered endeavoring - most of which I will probably pursue in due time. I may even start multiple series and bounce around between as topics and inspirations present themselves. One series I am excited to begin writing about is “The Joys of Fatherhood.” In this series I hope to explore two primary areas that closely correlate – being a Christian, and being a dad.

I am a dad. As easy of a low-hanging fruit type of topic that may be, it doesn’t change the commonality between experiences and struggles we as dads face to try and raise children in today’s society. I am also a Christian. There are plenty of writers in this regard too, and I struggle to not tarry on the line many others have written of before me regarding that statement. The worst thing I can do is either mis-represent what Christianity is/isn’t, or come across as preachy and/or judgmental. Either way, writing about being a Christian and a dad can be a bit controversial depending on your sensitivity to the subjects. Please rest assured that my writing isn’t meant to be divisive or judgmental of other’s beliefs or choices – I merely am writing my own personal experiences down in the hopes that others have also experienced similar things. If you have, welcome to the often unspoken of and unofficial club of parenting fails and wins. If you haven’t, congratulations on expanding your perspective.

Let me set some parameters regarding each of these and specify how I interpret the definition of those terms before we move any further so that you understand the lens in which I see what I’ll be writing about:

I struggle to define the term dad. In my own upbringing, I was raised by two men. My parents split up when I was young, both remarried and long story short I’m one of 7 kids, only one of which I am fully blood-related to. It’s safe to say that I didn’t grow up with a traditional family, though we’ve muddied those waters enough that pretty much anything goes culturally speaking. Anyway, I lived with my mom and stepdad most of the time, with my dad other times, and even dad’s brother a bit throughout some summers. Those men each had unique influences and impacts on me that when combined with my own beliefs and experiences results in the perspective you read of now. So, I have a biological father/dad who raised me, whom I have a great relationship with to this day. He always believed in me, encouraged me, and pushed me; the kind of person who tells you straight how it is and what he thinks. I also have a step-father/dad who raised me, who bought me my first car, showed me how to build stuff, held me accountable for my actions, demonstrated endless patience and grace for me, taught me a lot of right from wrong, you get the idea. Neither are perfect, but I love both of these men like a dad, and consider myself incredibly blessed and thankful that they are both in my life and my children’s. When I introduce people to either, I say they’re my dad. When I talk to my kids about them, I refer to them both as my dad, and their grandfather.

I want to take a second to note the importance of this role. I think most people that knew me when I was young would say that it truly took an entire village to raise me. I needed constant supervision. I was the rebellious, wild, and at times a seemingly uncontrollable child. If I wasn’t in trouble, I was usually in danger. My mom used to joke that I needed two guardian angels. They (the two angels) were ones who’d upset God, and as penance were punished with the restless job of keeping me alive and well (again, it was a joke, and a funny one.) As much as I know how silly the reference is, I can’t help but correlate it to the idea of fatherhood. I think, for my life, I needed two different men with two different perspectives on life, two different sets of strengths and weaknesses, two very different paths, to help me understand and see who I wanted to be. The further I grow in my faith, the more I find myself identifying with the likes of Peter the disciple, and Thomas. I am a skeptic in many senses, especially with cultural and religious norms, and outspokenly bold on the surface in others. I was designed to question the “why” of things and understand all the different rabbit trails that could end in other conclusions before I made a decision as to why things were the way they were. As a kid, when the TV broke my parents knew not to throw it out. They gave it to me to dismantle down to the last bit and try to figure out “why” it broke, could it be fixed, and is there a better way to build it next time.

Metaphorically (and all too often literally) speaking, I didn’t like people telling me what time it was, I wanted to know how the clock worked. I think God used these two men to show me what it meant to be a man and a father. One showed me the importance of resiliency, determination, tenacity, boldness, strength, taking a stand for what you believe in, independence, honesty, integrity, and facing confrontation head on. The other taught me compassion, patience, responsibility, keeping your word, tact, caring for others, work ethic, leadership, and selflessness. It’s hard to wrap that up into one person, so God gave me two. Let me clarify - I don’t think God wanted my biological parents to split up. I don’t know whether He was invited into their marriage from the start, and that’s not for me to criticize or consider. I do know that He used something ugly and broken (their divorce) and turned it into something beautiful and new. I also know that He did the same thing with my life, with my marriage, and will do the same thing in my children’s lives. It’s just the way He works.

As a Christian, the most important thing you must recognize that He loves you. I’m not a preacher, so I won’t preach. But if you truly understood how much God loves you, it would absolutely change the way you see and interact with the world. It would shatter your concept of “greatness” and thinking that anything we can accomplish could ever compare to what He has already done – what He is doing. We love Him, only because He first loved us. It’s a lot easier to do what your parents want you to do when you recognize how much they love you and are proud of you. When you trust that they have your long-term best interests in mind, it makes following the rules and obeying natural, not forced.

As a dad, the most important role I have is to engrain in my children how much I love them and am proud of them. I still get upset, frustrated, and at times disappointed with their decisions. I still ensure they understand the consequences of those decisions. But the fact that I love them unconditionally means that all my correction, all my discipline, my frustration, all my encouragement, my instruction, my will for them, is a reflection, a result, of my love for them. When either of my sons get disrespectful beyond an acceptable level with myself, my wife, or anyone, there are consequences for those actions. I’ve sat my sons down more than a few times and told them specifically, “Son, I love you too much to think that behaving that way is okay. You need to understand that your behavior, although your choice to make, will come with consequences that I don’t think you’ll like. It is my hope that you come to your own conclusion that behaving in that way isn’t worth the results.” Sound a bit over-the-head of an 8yr old? Judge if you want, but I want my message to be consistent. When he’s 16, these words will echo around in his head in every ambiguous situation. I want him to know no matter what happens, I love him, I’m proud of him, and I want what’s best for him.

That’s not to say that I don’t go dad-rage and act like a child myself sometimes. I am only human after all. It also doesn’t mean that I have this whole “father” thing figured out either. As you’ll read in the coming articles I often feel like I teeter between a dictator and a toddler when it comes to my attitudes and responses. For the times I do get it right, I invite you to raise your proverbial fist to the heavens and offer your best “go dad” fist pump in agreement as appropriate. So, sit back, relax, and enjoy the series. Laugh at my terrible judgment, smile at the good-feels moments, and nod to yourself in agreement or disdain as I stake my perspectives. But most of all, understand that I take fatherhood very seriously. But I don’t take myself seriously at all, so you shouldn’t either. Cheers to future reads.

#Fatherhood #Intro