What role am I playing?

So I know what you all are thinking-- where has this guy been who was so gung-ho about his blog?

Well, to tell the truth, there are a few legitimate reasons I haven't posted, and few not-so-legitimate reasons for no post.  I was in Arizona on a mission trip last week (which will be the subject of several upcoming posts), and I have had work and VBS at the church this week.  And I have a three-year-old who loves to make sure I don't do anything on the computer once I get home.  Those are the legitimate reasons.

As for the others, it all basically comes down to lazy.  I have been meaning to get started in my commentary of a couple of books, but I can't seem to get myself started.  So there it is.

But I am back for the moment, so let's get on with today's topic, shall we?

 For the majority of my adult life, I approached being a father as a mostly activity-based ideal.  I played with the kids, took them camping, went to sports or band outings, etc.  Supporting as a body in the seats.  Oh, I gave hugs and stuff.  I listened to the kids, too.  But for the most part, I thought that my being there was enough for the kids to know that I loved them.

When the kids were young,  I think that was a safe approach.  When they make a play, or fall and hurt themselves, they look to us for our reaction.  Even when they screw up, they look at us to see what we are going to do about it.  It is about shaping their perception of what our love is through various versions of approval, discipline, and being a safety net.

But sometime in their teens, all of that changes.  Hopefully, if we have done our job right, the kids drift away from needing all of our physical inputs.  If our actions and reactions have been on course, then the kids can predict what those actions or reactions will be, and they make their choices without needing the reinforcement.  Don't get me wrong, all kids make bad choices on occasion that defy any sense of logic.  But for the most part, their perception that was learned as a child will shape their choices as a teen.

This is where the true fun begins, and I mean fun both literally and sarcastically.  As a parent, there is no greater joy than watching your kids grow into adults.   At the same time, there is nothing more painful than watching them go through tough times-- bad choices, heartbreaks, rebellion-- the stuff of teenage life.  My heart breaks for them at those times, not because I am disappointed or angry (even though those emotions come for a bit also), but because I realize they are struggling with life issues that they have not encountered before.  My love for my kids just keeps getting bigger all the time.

So when those things happen, now what?  They don't need the physical reinforcement as much anymore.  Once kids get old enough, "come give me a hug" or "go to your room" doesn't mean much.  It stands to reason that the next step of parenting would be to guide the kids through these times with your wisdom.  Wisdom you have from living it already, wisdom from knowing where certain choices can lead, wisdom from getting to other side of adolescence and being okay.

But imparting wisdom is tricky.  You can't be preachy, or it comes off as always lecturing.  Waiting and watching for teachable moments is difficult when you have hoards of teens at your house to hang out.  So you have to wait until they come to you (at least for the most part).

And that is where I am so stuck right now.  You see, only a couple of years ago, I came to know Jesus as my Lord and Savior.  And I committed to living with Him as my role model.  And what I used to think was a whole bunch of "you can't" I have realized is so much about "you can."  And the more I take in about Christ, His Life, His Love, and following that example, the more I want to share it with the kids.

But alas, there is a huge lack of talking.  Because the kids think they know my reactions, they don't come to me.  The communication, the ability to impart wisdom, just gets seemingly wasted.  I have so much that I could share that would make things easier for them, or provide them with the mental safety net, but I have to keep it all bottled up.  At times I wonder what good I am doing if I have all of this in my head but don't get to share it?  All I can do is just live the example of Christ to the best of my ability, and hope that someday they will talk again.

As I re-read this, I am tempted to end it right here with a simple "Love, God."  He must feel the same way about all of us.  And that, I realize, is my rub.  If I am going through all of this, I should know that there is Someone who has also gone through it before.  And I should be talking to Him about it, getting His advice.  You see, His heart is breaking as He watches my struggles.  He is desperately longing to share His wisdom with me.  But I have to open up to Him.  I have to talk to Him.

Thanks Dad.  I hope I can be just a fragment of the Father that you are.  Please let me follow your example in grace, mercy, and love for my children.  And please help me to be patient to lead.  Amen.