Chapter Four
Being a Dad That Goofs Off
Monster
Night
There’s
nothing quite like wrestling with your Dad if you’re a little boy. I’ve heard some Dads say that if they’re gone
for a week, they have to spend several hours on the carpet with their kids just
to get the wrestling worked out of their system from their week hiatus. Whatever the reason, there’s something very
physical to the father-son relationship in particular—although surely there is
some of that to the father-daughter relationship as well.
Every
week for several years my brother and father and I would have what we deemed
“Monster Night.” This name arose from
Dad’s peculiar ability to glare at us in a distinct way, tipping us off that he
was morphing into a monster that would chase us around and wrestle us until we
were wheezing with equal parts terror and joy.
The nights usually followed a simple formula. Mom would be out of the house for her weekly
women’s group or a class she was taking towards a degree. After she was gone for a bit, lights would
begin to go off in the house and my brother and I would know the time had
come. We would scurry around in circles
and then find hiding places which, considering all the “SHHhhh-ing”
and “Where is he?’s” were
about as secretive as a firecracker in a funeral home. Dad would find us in short order, after
circling the hiding spot a few times slurping and groaning like a monster,
playing dumb to our obvious location.
Once
we were found my brother would make his great escape to his room, where he
would bunker doing who-knows-what for about fifteen minutes in monster-slaying
preparation solitude. Then Dad would
drag me out to the living room, tickling and wrestling me and giving me noogies till I was red with laughter. In a flash my brother would then re-appear in
a full super-hero/special-agent/western-gun-slinger outfit complete with a cape
and a briefcase full of spare plastic guns and fighting accessories. He would run into the room, sometimes
launching off a couch or chair, flying with his arms out and landing square on
the center of Dad’s back with both knees acting like photon torpedoes to the
monster on top of me. Wailing in true
pain, Dad would invariably be vanquished and we boys would run away to our next
pseudo-hiding place and the cycle would continue. It is a wonder Dad never needed major spinal
column surgery.
Becoming
a Goof Off
Despite
all of the training we men went through in high-school and/or college, goofing
off is hard to do once you’re “Dad.”
Giving lectures, imparting advice, and teaching lessons: these things
seem to come naturally for all parents.
It’s like we flip on some “over the hill” switch when we become parents
and start to say things we’ve never said before—sometimes even sounding eerily
like our own parental units. What really
sets Dads apart from one another is not the time they spend disciplining their
kids, but rather, it may be their ability to effectively goof off with their
kids. Good humor and fun times aren’t
just needed by our wives; kids need them too!
In fact they’re needed more by the kids than our wives. They’ve heard and seen all our jokes and
tricks a thousand times by now anyway.
You
can almost always spot a fun Dad in a crowd.
His focus is on giving a good time to his kids. Because of his wacky ways, he’s a virtual
clown in Dockers and a Polo shirt. He’s
the one making faces to his four-year old in the middle of the Wal-Mart
checkout line.. He’s the one doing the
fake separated thumb trick for the tenth time that vacation to Florida, and the
kids still trying to do it themselves in imitation of him. He’s the one playing hide and seek in the mall while his wife rolls her eyes knowing she’s
got one more kid to straighten out that night.
It’s
funny how the simple things a Dad does make the most lasting impression. You never quite realize them as a man until
you start doing them yourself. Passing
along these fun things make life more enjoyable for the kids, and in reality,
for us too. Every man wants to be a kid
again deep down inside. Having kids is
our chance to do that while also giving the munchkins a chance to have the time
of their lives growing up.
Let’s
consider this issue:
What
really sets Dads apart from one another is their ability to effectively goof
off with their kids.
How
can I make the lives of my kids more fun?
Chapter Five
Being a Dad that Encourages the Spiritual Quest
Preacher’s
Kids
The
children of well-known spiritual fathers often ride a curse into this
world. High expectations, suspicion of
favoritism, and the “PK” label often drive a child to rebellion by their
teenage years. We often see it coming
when they are still small kids. How many
of us have rolled our eyes when thinking of some conniving little pastor’s kid
who seemed to get away with everything.
For a father that has a spiritual influence, position, or even
occupation, this struggle will be the greatest in helping his children form
their own identity without going off the deep end. I was a child in just this type situation,
with a father in a influential ministry role. With this context one night more than any
other set the stage for my own identity development spiritually.
Like
many kids raised in the church in the 70s and 80s, I
attended transitional churches that still had regular altar calls. One week we even had children’s revival
meetings with altar calls every night.
Monday night of that kids week I walked down
front to consciously make a decision to follow Jesus Christ. I went home that night with good news for Mom
and Dad.
My
father was once asked when he met the Lord, or “became saved.” He answered by giving a question back. “Well,” he said, “That’s a hard one to
answer. It’s as if you asked me when my
Dad became my father.” After pausing he
concluded, “My Father was always my Father.”
I don’t believe he meant this as a comment on when a person really
“becomes a Christian,” but more as a comment on how the whole process felt for
him. In the great legacy that was passed
from my grandfather’s family to my father’s, I had many of the same feelings
when it came to my spiritual quest. God
had always been a part of life. Every
bedtime story or prayer contained biblical teachings or spiritual
requests. Every meal included
thanks. Every Sunday involved
services. In many ways I experienced the
same “always been” spiritual experience that my father described in response to
that question. When people ask me when I
was “born-again,” I often think of answering with the time-tested joke, “I was
born at an early age.”
We
are more than the sum of our atoms. And
any relationship between father and child must deal with more than the
physical, and even emotional, people we have on our hands withour
kids. We must involve ourselves in their
spirit as well.
When
I came home that Monday night in 1980 and told Dad of my spiritual landmark, he
didn’t brush it aside like so many other decisions a 7 year old might make. He treated it with respect and told me he was
proud of me. Dad took me in the garage
and we carved a piece of wood with the saw and a router. All we put in it was “
Spirit
Guide
A
Dad can be the strongest spiritual force in a child’s life. It doesn’t matter if we think women often
find it more natural to talk about such things.
It isn’t an issue of simply talking about your “spiritual side.” Every father has his own spiritual way of
life. Every father! We don’t have to copy some spiritually
well-known leader to be the person God wants us to be. We should be ourselves with God. And most essential to our journey in these
pages, we must be ourselves with our kids.
Being Dad is living our spiritual lives so our kids can see them. Whatever it is that you do to connect with
God, be sure to show your kids you’re doing it.
Whatever they are growing into, encourage it, and help them become
themselves in God. We fathers can be
authentic spirit guides for our children.
In fact, if we take this seriously, we must.
Let’s
spend some time praying about this quote:
“Being
Dad is living our spiritual lives so our kids can see them.”
What
are we sensing needs to happen in our spiritual lives?
Chapter Six
Being a Dad that Walks the Family Talk
There
are often significant times when we are children that we don’t fully understand
until we are adults. We cannot process
their full meaning until many years have past.
This goes for positive as well as negative experiences. We often assume that children react more
emotionally than adults to a stressful or happy event. This is often not true. We figure this out when we see a son continue
to play joyfully with his toys when told that his grandfather just died, as
though nothing of significance has happened.
We figure this out when a daughter doesn’t thank us for some great thing
we have done for her, as though your massive sacrificial deed was
insignificant. This is not to say that
such things do not radically affect children.
In fact, those seemingly unaffected children may be brewing rage,
thankfulness, fear, joy or frustration without even our most discerning eye
detecting it. These emotions, of course,
surface as we mature into adolescence.
Many have studied and commented on how this affects kids with intensely
negative experiences, such as abused children.
But what about those kids with intensely positive experiences? Do those emotions percolate over years, only
to surface down the road with a parallel intensity? I suspect this is true, because it has been
the case for me.
Putting
your priorities where your mouth is
My
father experienced several years of surging popularity among his peers in his
ministry setting. With surprise to our
family, Dad found himself nominated for the top denominational position in our
church government. This in and of itself
was not that earth-shattering. There are
always men nominated to such posts that are put there to either pad the ballot
with obvious non-electable yet respectable people, or
to show someone not likely to win that they are appreciated – a kind of public
commendation for a job well done, short of an elected promotion. Most democratic governmental systems work this
way. But because of his wide appeal
despite his youth (he was only 40), Dad came out of
the first ballot with the most votes. A
majority had not been reached, but most likely the swing votes from the next
ballot would decide the outcome.
What
happened has marked and will continue to mark my view of Dad with increasing
intensity. He stood before the
conference’s delegates and spoke of us—his children—first then his career second. He articulated how these years were pivotal
in our lives, and that we needed a father that would be around more than that
top position could ever allow. He
withdrew his name from contention. He
torpedoed his moment of greatest adulation because of his priorities. He sunk the ship that was his surging career
on the day it came in. But his family
was in the boat that most concerned him.
I
didn’t quite understand all that was going on at the time. But what happened in the ensuing days marked
me even more. Mom and Dad didn’t even
tell us of his decision, as far as I can remember. I heard it from others – especially old
men. These elderly retired ministers
with their hearts speaking to their own past lives would walk up to me in the
halls of that convention center and tell my brother and I
that they respected my Dad greatly. They
told me that he did a great thing. They
told me I was lucky to have a Dad like that.
What
was as telling as the ones that spoke were the ones that did not. There was a glaring absence of those my Dad’s
age speaking to me. Years later I
discovered why. They were not admiring
of him. They didn’t want to be like he
was. They didn’t want to give similar speeches.
Instead, they thought he was foolish.
They thought that he had a duty to the denomination. They thought he made a mistake. I’ve talked to several that question his
decision because he, as they say, could have done “so much more for God” had he
been in that position than he has done since.
Our
quaint quote on the perfect vision of hindsight has become our great disclaimer
for lives lived without discernment. Old
men tend to be the only ones that know anything about fatherhood, and for them
it’s too late to do anything but offer discounted
wisdom. As has often been said, no man
lies on his deathbed wishing that he had spent less time with his kids and more
time with his career. We would like to
take the advice of old men. We want
learn from the inadequacies of our fathers. We want to become the Dads our kids
want to have, not the very least Dads we think they need. Many of us want to put our priorities where
our mouths are. So how do we actually do
it?
Authentic
Prioritization
My
father corrected a false presumption for me early in life. He taught me that pie-charting my life is a
dangerous endeavor. Mapping out our
spiritual, vocational, family, emotional, and physical lives into percentages
doesn’t do justice to authentic prioritization.
No one can divide every day into neat little time categories and keep it
the same forever. Different times in
life call for different things. He
instead used a “See-Saw” illustration to explain the family/work balance of
life. Every Dad has a playground-style
see-saw in their lives. On the one side
is his family, on the other side, his work.
Our job is to stand in the middle of the board and “feel-out” what kind
of balance is needed. The effort goes
into making sure that neither side slams the ground or gets thrown off the
ride.
The
key to thinking this way is responding to what is needed rather than imposing
onto our family or work or any other part of our lives some preconceived
action. Being Dad is more about
responsiveness than responsibility. What
are our kid’s needs at this phase in life?
How will our decisions affect them at this time? What exactly do they need from their fathers
at this age? These and other questions will
help us to prioritize in an authentic way.
It centers our fickle pie charts on their priorities, not ours. And if we as Dads are honest, that is what we
want to focus on anyway.
Once
we are being these kinds of Dads we won’t need long to make the right decision
for the phase our families find themselves in.
My Dad didn’t need a lot of time to make this most major of career
decisions. It was who he had
become prior to the day of decision.
Let’s prepare ourselves to be ready in the same way.
Let’s
think for a while, even brood a bit over the quote,
“Being
Dad is more about responsiveness than responsibility.”
Think
about our responsiveness to what our kids need.
Chapter
Seven
Being
a Dad that Treasures His Kid’s Future
I
grew up to be a minister. This is not
any real shock to those that know the amount of pastors in my extended
family. It’s like a family business I
suppose, one not as fiscally lucrative as “So and So & Sons” but equally as
familial at times. Near the beginning of
my first pastorate when I was just 23, my Dad showed up at my house with a
framed drawing. I didn’t recall seeing
it before. It contained a drawing I made
when I was very young in response to a teacher’s question “what do you want to
be when you grow up?” My crayon-clutching
tiny hands had drawn a two-dimensional rendition of a church sanctuary,
complete with colorful pews, people, communion table, stage, cross and a
pulpit. I was standing behind it with
arms raised, speaking to my imagined future rainbow-colored congregation. At the top I had scrawled, “When I grow up I
want to be a minister.”
Whenever
I was asked that perpetual question, the answer was the same. Even though my Dad had never been the pastor
of a local church in my lifetime, I felt a strong draw toward church ministry
all my life. With this virtual certainty
in his hands that his son would be a pastor, Dad still resisted the temptation
to pressure me into it. Perhaps that is
why I never questioned it. Even when
considering college, the choice was in my hands, and though he rationally
explained the benefits of the ministerial program at the Christian school I
ended up attending, he never mandated I go there and would always couch his
statements with “If you go there, they have this and that, but it’s your
decision completely.”
It
is the joy and duty of a father to treasure his child’s potential. Being Dad is making a kid’s future the
purpose of the present. There
are several things that demonstrate to our kids that we are not only interested
in what they will become, but that we already can see them becoming it as well…
Treasuring
Our Kid’s Future:
For
most kids, the worst thing they experience growing up is being mocked or
ridiculed. There is added pain when it
comes from an adult, and multiplied pain when it comes from their parents. Making fun of our kids is the opposite of
being proud of them. We must be proud of
their future before it even becomes a reality, so that they can be proud of
what they are in fact becoming, and then have the confidence to go the
distance.
Many
of us as fathers have fallen into the rut of apathy when it comes to what our
children are becoming. We have tried
everything, and nothing seems to work.
The remedy for this is simply perspective. We need to take a long hard look at our kids
and see what is admirable in them. They
have been woven together with some unique values and some profound
purposes. The greatest remedy to our
apathetic fathering can be developing into fathers that admire our kids for
even the most seemingly small qualities.
It
is easy for us to connect to our kid’s future emotionally. This common reality is not in fact a problem,
but rather, it is strength. But when we
begin to communicate with our kids about their future in strictly emotional
ways, we don’t give them any of the wisdom our longer lives and fuller
experiences have afforded us. We must
learn to communicate rationally, even at times impartially, with our kids. They will not accept our random emotional
comments about their future. They’ll
just roll their eyes in embarrassment.
But they long for our rational wisdom and discerning eye on their
lives. If we give it to them in the right
packaging, they’ll come back again and again for more.
There
are countless ways for a father’s comments to hurt a kid, even with an
unintended hurtful statement. Our
thoughts on our children’s future must not make them feel pressured, stupid, or
less than confident. We should convey to
them their freedom, let them know they are competent enough to make the
decisions, and instill in them the confidence it takes to make it in the world
today—even when they are small children.
Being even a small help for our kid’s future will make a big
difference. Likewise, being even a small
hurt in our kid’s past will haunt their future.
Let’s
consider the following quote:
“Being
Dad is making a kid’s future the purpose of the present.”
What
things are we doing in the present to support our kid’s future?
©2004 David Drury
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