Humble Fatherhood
This November is the two-year anniversary of the release of my book Humble Service, a book about the lessons learned on my journey as an at-home dad. The topic of that book, like this blog, is a part of my identity as a student of life.
St. Francis preached the virtue of constant renewal, a lifelong process of making yourself into a reflection of Christ. I want things to be done with immediate effect, but there’s too much work to be done. Knowing that I can work each day on bettering myself is more manageable.
I want to do more of my jobs with a servant’s heart. Yes, I always feed my children first and tend to their daily hygiene. But what about my disposition? Do I do it begrudgingly? Some days. I want to do it with love more frequently.
I want to have more humility and show more grace. I want to keep in mind that my children are still small people, learning their way in the world. I want to set high expectations for them, and help them when they don’t rise to the moment. I want to show them that the proper response to adversity isn’t stress and frustration, but patient acceptance.
What could be the fruits of these changes? Domestic tranquility, sure. But what about higher life satisfaction? Reaching the end of the day and not reflecting that I stayed home and took care of the kids, but instead that I nurtured young souls with love. I may even experience less internal complaining.
Fatherhood is not about being the boss, but about accepting responsibility with love. It’s hard to do perfectly, but I can probably do a better job of it tomorrow.
Environment
I caught the back to school bug last week. The malaise of summer broke, and I worked through my checklist of projects. I oiled squeaky doors, replaced door handles, and ordered in some extra decor for our schoolroom. I even started easing us back into the regular daily routine.
Our environment speaks to our subconscious. The decorations on the wall, the art around the house, all contribute to a cohesive message.
We went to a pizzeria for a birthday dinner, and there were five televisions within eyeshot of everyone at the table. We didn’t talk much, we just watched the Olympics. The environment of the restaurant didn’t invite us to relax and talk, it encouraged us to zone out right in front of each other.
I want my children to see books throughout their day, pictures and statues of saints, and beautiful art on our walls. I want an environment that quietly draws us into prayer, meditation, and reading throughout the day.
There’s more work to do, but I think we’re on the right path.
Second New Year
August is here and back to school is right around the corner. We limped over the finish line in June, and it’s hard to believe that we’re about to get started again. There’s a bit more planning and organization to do. This year will bring a new challenge. I have two students in my class, with a third in tow.
As I start to turn my thoughts to school days, I’m reconsidering our schedule. I really got into a summer mindset this year. It was wonderful. Nothing on the schedule, just a daily clean slate. That also meant that I lacked momentum to keep doing the things that I did sketch out.
Back-to-school time is like a second chance new year. We can reorient, restart, and refresh our goals. That’s what I’m doing.
I took a few minutes last week to sketch out a schedule. In the past, I’ve managed to ignore almost all of my planning. Too much structure breaks, too much flexibility means less gets done. This year, I’m breaking my day into two parts: morning and afternoon. I have a list of things to do in the morning and a list for the afternoon. Simple.
My areas of focus are on daily prayer and reading. I built in a brief period of morning prayer and a rosary after lunch, but before naps. I’m looking forward to the rosary because it adds in a calming element to the schedule, along with mindfulness.
No need to be upset about the missed opportunities of summer days. Rest is a wonderful thing.
Spiritual Wokeism
I’m old enough to remember when being woke was enough to get you made fun of on SNL. What started as a fringe idea has now overrun the academy, government, the armed services, public health, and media. The essential contradiction of wokeism is that while it claims to be awake, to be fully embraced, you must deny reality. One of the clearest signs of this is the pervasive belief in the fallacy that America is no better today than it was in 1776.
This is a heavier topic than usual. I like to keep this blog light and digestible, but I think there’s an element of wokeism at play in our spirituality. It’s easy to believe that we are no better today than we were yesterday, or even a decade ago.
When we go to Confession, we repeat the same litany of sins, sometimes adding a few but seldom removing any. This is a grating experience. We get the impression that we’re not improving.
Our expectations of instant renewal and transformation are unrealistic. We must take concrete steps to live and love the Law. Change, however, is slow. We’re working out our salvation and overcoming the innate character flaws that will be with us for life.
Like modern wokeism, spiritual wokeism is a lie. We’re better than we used to be. We may be committing the same sins, but we’re probably committing them less frequently. That’s progress! We may be making the same mistakes, but in different ways. That’s progress!
The Christian life isn’t about a life lived perfectly. It’s embracing our human flaws and, through grace, living out our vocation fully despite them.
We reject the fantasy of wokeism in public life, and we should reject it in our spiritual lives, too.
Lazy Summer Days
With deep regret, my vacation is over. A few days at home with just one kid to watch, followed by a cross-country drive to a week at Lake Michigan. This period of time is the most restful I’ve had in over a year. What a wonderful break!
There are few feelings like vacation. Sitting on the deck with a sea breeze rolling past, typing away on my computer, this is the way summer vacation feels. But we aren’t just supposed to enjoy lazy days in summer.
The days, weeks, and months are ever so busy, but every seventh day’s only purpose is for us to rest. Not to catch up on overdue tasks or get ready for the week ahead, but an entire day marked as sacred. A rhythm to our days laid out for us, but one that we ignore to our detriment.
I find Sunday to be an easy day to waste. I slip away to my desk to work on a website or process paperwork. In the process, I miss the point. Sunday should feel like this day at the lake. A day entirely my own, and to be allocated to the things that leave me feeling restored and rejuvenated.
God created many things. Indeed, that first week was full of much of the busyness that we know so well. But the seventh day, even He set that entire day aside to see what He made and that it is good. I should do the same.
To The Lake
July at home is a hot, muggy affair. Humidity rarely disappears, meaning even my early morning walks, long before the sun breaks the new day, are hot and uncomfortable. The heat and humidity persist for months on end, the price of a delightful and mild winter. But none of that matters now. As I write this post, I’m sitting in a beach house, high on a bluff above Lake Michigan. The windows are open, and the cool lake breeze is blowing past me.
Pulling off the interstate late last evening, we turned onto the country road that leads to this quiet neighborhood. I opened the windows as we drove through the pastures, horse farms, and farms. The fresh smell of clean, the open air perfectly matched to the rolling hills of grain and the growing fields of corn. The scene was pure Americana and the feeling was of great refreshment.
There’s a peace that fills this experience. A cool breeze of relief after weeks of heat. Rolling hills speaking to the beauty of a slower paced life. An atmosphere that encourages rest, recreation, and revitalization. This is an experience that reminds me of the essential goods in life.
I had a productive week last week while my children were away. Projects that languished for months finished in an afternoon. I completed the first draft of a new magazine that I’m working on. I saw an open week on my calendar and rushed to fill it with projects and activity. What I didn’t do was plan for rest. It was good to work and check things off, but it’s also good to rest.
That’s what I’m doing this week. I’m slowing my pace, relaxing, and restoring. My life will fill up again soon after we return home. But for this week, all I have to do is nothing.
A Quiet House
On Saturday morning, I woke up at 5:00am and went for a walk. I came home, sat down, and read the news. This is a pretty normal morning for me. Just after 7:00am, three of my children came downstairs very excited. The day that they were waiting for had finally arrived!
Just after breakfast, I loaded them up in the car and drove them to the airport. There, they met my parents, and flew back to their house for a week’s vacation.
It was a quiet drive home, and a return to a quiet house. Alison and I suddenly found ourselves parents with only one child needing our care. I found myself thrown back to my first days as an at-home dad.
On a normal day, I crave the calm and quiet of the after-bedtime hours. Now that I have a quiet house, I crave the joy that my children bring to our home.
The kids will be back at the end of the week. While they’re away, I have a full schedule of cleaning, house projects, and catching up on projects that I normally don’t have time to accomplish. It’ll be a different pace for me, a different schedule, and a chance to have more room to breathe.
Missing my children deeply reminds me of the essential truth of children. Society may shun them as an added responsibility, but that toxic worldview misses the point. Children are a beautiful gift and a source of great joy.
Regret
Jolting moments happen in a man’s life that inevitably lead to a health kick. An engagement and the birth of a child are two of the big ones. The main difficultly is translating that momentum and turning a kick into a lifestyle. We have enough time each day to include an exercise regimen on our schedule, but doing it consistently over time proves to be the real challenge.
There are plenty of outside factors that can derail a healthy lifestyle. Injury, sickness, schedule, and even careers put up major roadblocks, but we truly must live a healthy lifestyle if we want to be ready to play and explore with our kids.
I’m coming out of a rut, many months devoid of meaningful progress. It’s a cycle that I’ve experienced for at least nine years, and one that I’m trying to break. I prefer not to have good years and bad years, I want great years. I want years when I have the energy and clarity of mind to take care of my kids, my household, and still have enough gas in the tank to play.
At this moment, I appreciate that positive changes now will need less effort in the future. The longer that I maintain a healthy weight, the more productive years that I’ll have to share with Alison and my kids. It’s a daily investment of time and energy to reap almost guaranteed dividends.
None of this is new, even on this blog. It’s just a reminder that hard work today will benefit me tomorrow.
A Father’s Love
What is the measure of a good father? Is it the serenity in his house, the manicured lawn, or perhaps just food on the table every evening? All men contemplate their self-worth. This is an intellectual process that naturally occurs in life. The easiest answer is in the economic value that they produce for their family. While helpful, a utilitarian approach denies the most important contribution a father makes. The true value of a father is his love.
Men show love in many ways that fall outside the common notion of affection. A birthday gift of a pocketknife for his wife may be, in his mind, the best gift he can give. He sees the knife as an omnipresent tool, ready to jump in and help from the most menial tasks to those where life and property are under threat. To his wife receiving this gift, he may be the tool.
What men may fail to express in words, they express in action. In the early minutes of the day or as the evening’s twilight fades, he lifts his family up in prayer. Little girls often find themselves on their dad’s lap, quietly watching a movie or reading a book. Sons may receive exclusive invitations to outdoor adventures or even just trips into towns. Wives drive clean cars and enjoy a carefully tended to lawn.
The true measure of a man, and his success as a father, begins simply. It’s his presence. In words and deeds, on good days and bad, he’s there, ready to give his family whatever they need.
Sprinting
Alison and I will celebrate our nine-year anniversary this fall. It’s been a very full and busy nine years. In fact, many of the plans that we set for ourselves way back then are just now coming to fruition. As the light at the end of the tunnel comes into view, we’re sprinting to the finish.
We took a personality assessment earlier this year and were reminded of how similar we are, especially in terms of planning. We both look to the future at the risk of missing the present. Forward-thinking is a critical life skill, it enables us to make the right decisions today that set us on a path to where we want to go. It can also cause us to miss the wonder and beauty right in front of us.
Long-term goals are challenging to stick with, but they tend to be the most important ones in our lives. Along the way, especially in the lonely middle, it’s tempting to get lazy or even give up. The hope for a better tomorrow starts to wane. But as the end draws near, hope springs eternal.
We’re about to accomplish some fantastic things, and the sprint has us making sacrifices that we weren’t willing to make in the middle. It’s exhilarating and the victory is going to be so sweet. Sprinting is fun.