...a long, serious post after a seriously long break...
A few weeks ago our church had its first service in its new, permanent building, and it was, quite frankly, amazing in every way. Pastor Tony spoke about where we've been as a church, and pumped up the excitement about where we're going. And while there were several points that made me think, the one that stuck in my mind the most in the days that followed was actually just an aside. He mentioned that he occasionally ("every Monday morning," was the exact phrase, if I recall) felt overwhelmed and frustrated about being a pastor, and, as an aside, he invited those of us who are parents to "be honest" and admit that we've occasionally had similar feelings.
That got me thinking a great deal about my experience as a father. Actually, it was that and a few other events that took place around that time. For one, I found out that afternoon that my brother's college roommate had been killed in a car wreck the night before. This was a guy I'd known since elementary school, when he and Bennett had first become friends. I think we may have even been in a chorus together. Incidentally, I found out about the accident through Facebook, which was a surreal experience that I may have to write about some other time. As if this wasn't sobering enough, when I called my brother to give him the news, he informed me that he himself had been in a wreck earlier in the week - that his car had been hit by a bus, in fact! Just the idea that someone I love had been involved in a situation so closely linked with death in my mind at the moment was heart-wrenching, terrifying. As I say, it got me thinking a lot about my time with those closest to me, and especially about my experience as a father.
More often than I will admit to anyone in person (the expressionless face of a blog can provide a great ear for embarrassing secrets), I have put off doing things with my children because of what I call tiredness, which really boils down to a lazy selfishness. I don't want to exert the energy, I just want to read a book, I just want to veg out in front of the TV or Internet, me, me, me! Certainly, there are times when it's good to be alone, but these years when the children actually want me to do things with them, as opposed to being mortified that I am related to them, are not going to last that long. I know this from the older parents who've told me, and I've seen it first-hand in my own life, as Daniel and Maggie develop dad-less interests by which I've never been enticed. Maggie is a great artist, and while I can be creative, and I enjoy writing and music, I've never been much for drawing or painting. She can't get enough of it. Daniel has developed a love of all things Pokemon, which may be simultaneously the most unusual and least interesting series of games / cards I've ever come across. I'd rather watch golf, for crying out loud!
All that to say, I intend to start doing my best to focus on enjoying my children while they're young. I think I do an OK job at this now, but, as I alluded above, there are times when being a father can be overwhelming and frustrating, usually when I'm already tired or feeling self-focused. So I will be making a more concerted effort in hopes that later in life I won't regret not having done so. Who knows? Maybe it will even head off the whole mortification thing. For the record, I don't believe I have ever been mortified to be related to my own father, and I hope to live up to the example he set.
A few weeks ago our church had its first service in its new, permanent building, and it was, quite frankly, amazing in every way. Pastor Tony spoke about where we've been as a church, and pumped up the excitement about where we're going. And while there were several points that made me think, the one that stuck in my mind the most in the days that followed was actually just an aside. He mentioned that he occasionally ("every Monday morning," was the exact phrase, if I recall) felt overwhelmed and frustrated about being a pastor, and, as an aside, he invited those of us who are parents to "be honest" and admit that we've occasionally had similar feelings.
That got me thinking a great deal about my experience as a father. Actually, it was that and a few other events that took place around that time. For one, I found out that afternoon that my brother's college roommate had been killed in a car wreck the night before. This was a guy I'd known since elementary school, when he and Bennett had first become friends. I think we may have even been in a chorus together. Incidentally, I found out about the accident through Facebook, which was a surreal experience that I may have to write about some other time. As if this wasn't sobering enough, when I called my brother to give him the news, he informed me that he himself had been in a wreck earlier in the week - that his car had been hit by a bus, in fact! Just the idea that someone I love had been involved in a situation so closely linked with death in my mind at the moment was heart-wrenching, terrifying. As I say, it got me thinking a lot about my time with those closest to me, and especially about my experience as a father.
More often than I will admit to anyone in person (the expressionless face of a blog can provide a great ear for embarrassing secrets), I have put off doing things with my children because of what I call tiredness, which really boils down to a lazy selfishness. I don't want to exert the energy, I just want to read a book, I just want to veg out in front of the TV or Internet, me, me, me! Certainly, there are times when it's good to be alone, but these years when the children actually want me to do things with them, as opposed to being mortified that I am related to them, are not going to last that long. I know this from the older parents who've told me, and I've seen it first-hand in my own life, as Daniel and Maggie develop dad-less interests by which I've never been enticed. Maggie is a great artist, and while I can be creative, and I enjoy writing and music, I've never been much for drawing or painting. She can't get enough of it. Daniel has developed a love of all things Pokemon, which may be simultaneously the most unusual and least interesting series of games / cards I've ever come across. I'd rather watch golf, for crying out loud!
All that to say, I intend to start doing my best to focus on enjoying my children while they're young. I think I do an OK job at this now, but, as I alluded above, there are times when being a father can be overwhelming and frustrating, usually when I'm already tired or feeling self-focused. So I will be making a more concerted effort in hopes that later in life I won't regret not having done so. Who knows? Maybe it will even head off the whole mortification thing. For the record, I don't believe I have ever been mortified to be related to my own father, and I hope to live up to the example he set.
