My ten-year old son’s words stopped me in my tracks.
“When I grow up, all I want to be is a dad.”
He wasn’t smiling. It wasn’t one of those cute moments. There was no appreciation in his words. No thankfulness. No joy.
He meant it as an indictment on me. Innocent and honest words to let me know that I was letting him down. It happened one too many times. Then just too many times.
The jobs I chose had me traveling quite a bit, even deep into my son’s high school years. I even forced a moved on the family across state, and then across the country, from Ohio to Washington state.
I knew as soon as my son said those words that I was teaching him that he wasn’t as important as my job or career. He was, of course, infinitely more important, but my actions taught him something different. And he called me on it.
Unfortunately, I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I tried, but failed. I wasn’t able to stop that hard-driving train of a career until all of my kids were out of high school. And then it was too late. Way too late.
We Are Teachers
In those years, throughout most of my thirties and forties, I spent far too many days away from home traveling for work. It wasn’t until the year I turned 51that I finally find a way out—a year and a half of counseling and emotional healing. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever experienced. Emotionally hard. And the more honest I was with my counselor, the harder the work became.
We are teachers. You and me. As husbands. As friends. As neighbors. As leaders. But especially as fathers. Whether we want to be or not, we are at the front of the classroom from the day our first child is born until the day we die. And then the lessons linger throughout their lifetime. As memories. As experiences. As photos. Videos. Letters. Cards. Emails. Text Messages. And when any of these are absent when they needed it most.
Our children learn from us every day, all day—how to be a father, a husband, a man of God. A man of faith. They learn about integrity. Humility. How to pray. How to encourage. How to treat women. How to treat those in need. How to treat those different from ourselves. How we treat people important to us.
I’m Sorry
When my son was in college, I took him to dinner one evening. Afterward, sitting in the car about to drop him off at his dorm, I apologized. I apologized for how I treated him growing up. I didn’t cover every mistake but did hit quite a few. It was easier than I expected it would be, but it was emotional. I even asked him if there was any particular moment or pain that he needed me to apologize for. He said no, then smiled and said thank you.
What are you teaching your children by your actions? Maybe by your absence? Have you asked your wife what she sees you teaching them? Do you need a new lesson plan? Is God convicting you in any area of your life as a father?
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