Dear Theophilus:: May 2003

Lessions from the Playgroud: Fatherhood

Just take quick look at the Emmanuel web page and you'll see a growing list of baby pictures. The buzz is that 15 new babies are due this year alone! Something must be in the water. As a father of a four year old and a two year old, I was asked to share some sage advice with our first time fathers (and wannabe parents). Although the Scriptures are filled with proverbs and instructions on how to raise children, I found that raising children has a greater influence on my own spiritual growth than my children's. An abridged list of lessons I've learned include:

Discipline
You know when your heart isn't right: you're unrepentant about some sin, you have your mind made up to do something sinful and you pretend that God doesn't exist, or you harbor bitterness toward someone such as a spouse after an argument. I can hold out avoiding God for quite a while, but then along comes the trusty role of a father, to pray with my children as I put them to sleep or sit down to eat. You really can't fake it when you pray. Trust me, I've tried the generic, vague prayer with my children, not really praying, but mumbling some pious words in a futile attempt to maintain a good example for my children. This only makes my heart feel worse as I squirm with each empty word that comes out. I have to repent of my own sins to God before I can lead my children in meaningful prayer. Ultimately, the rewards are immeasurable as repentance sets me free. Having children really holds me accountable to repent on a regular basis.

Tough Love
My children look to me for so much. They expect me to know answers to everything, and to always have time to play with them. When I come home from work, the children run to greet me, melting my heart when I pick them up and hold them. Then Yanghwa drops the bomb that someone was naughty or disobeyed and it's time for daddy to take action. My wife is frazzled after eight hours of the children's neediness, and she really needs my support in disciplining them, even though I want to give hugs.
If I fail to correct a disciplinary problem, then I'm shirking my responsibility as a father because of my own selfish desire to be Mister Nice Guy, which really benefits nobody. Discipline is work! It's not easy, but it must be done - now. Maybe I won't see immediate harm in being Mr. Nice Guy, but in ten years it will be ten times harder to parent a rebellious teenager that has learned to disrespect her father's authority. We need spiritual discipline from God for us to grow (see Hebrews 12:5-11). Likewise, a father who loves his children (more than he loves himself) will discipline his children.

Taming the Tongue
Please become intimately aware of this one simple rule: WHATEVER you say in the presence of your children WILL be repeated by them, and sometimes even in public! Have an argument with your spouse while driving (and the kids are in the back seat)? Refer to the previous sentence, especially the repeating in public part. Skin your knuckle or smash your fingers while trying to fix something around the house, and maybe a few colorful words slip out? "Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring?" (James 3:11). Children will force you to tame your tongue. Jesus said, "But I tell you that men will have to give account on the day of judgement for every careless word they have spoken" (Matt 12:36.). With children around, you quickly find there is no such thing as a 'careless word'. Rejoice always and give thanks in all circumstances? Now that's the right way to teach our children.

Unconditional Love
As a parent I often catch glimpses of the Father's love. A funny story happened years ago when Anna was about six months old. We had just given her a bath and gotten her all dressed up, when literally 60 seconds later she did a massive poop. It was a mess that leaked all over the place. Yanghwa was dumbfounded, but then we just turned to each other and laughed. We knew it was another 30 minutes to clean up the mess, give Anna another bath all over again, dress her, and scrub the soiled clothes - but there was no complaining, just love in taking care of her.

Trust (Mark 10:5)
My children are so fickle with trust that I can seldom figure them out. Sometimes they belive me and are saints, but often they refuse to believe me.
For example, my daughter Anna loves to draw with crayons. She will often ask for permission to color, often at the most inopportune moment, repeating herself to the point of pestering. I may respond: "after you take a nap" or "after dinner." About half of the time she will be a saint, quietly taking a nap with visions of crayons dancing in her head. When she wakes, she can't wait to get out the crayola box - at which time I'd better deliver if I really want to build our bond of trust. However, the other half of the time, when I tell her she can color later, Anna will plunge into a tirade. She refuses to believe me, responding with cries of "no, we won't!" followed by unconsolable crying. Maybe she'll go and ask her mother the same question, hoping to elicit a different answer. It really hurts me that she lacks faith in me. I'm sure part of it is just a child's tantrum because she isn't receiving instant gratification, but some of her refusal to believe my answers is probably out of fear and uncertainty of the future. Yet, if I soberly examine my own heart, I am just as childish in my trust of God. Would I really expect my heavenly Father to give me a stone when I ask for a loaf of bread? Yep, I sometimes pray without expecting to really receive what I ask for. After 12 years of my Christian walk, countless blessings, and answered prayers, I am just as anxious as a four year old. How it must disappoint my Heavenly Father that I have such little faith.

Part of the gift of children is that they are a mirror of my own soul. The love they show me gives a glimpse of how much my heavenly Father loves me, their childish failures reveal my own sin, and their presence provides accountability that helps me avoid turning to the left or the right, as I strive to run the race I am called to run.