I consider myself lucky when it comes to my parents. They are by no means perfect, they are human after all, but they did a great job in the ways that count. They stayed together. They loved each other well. They loved Christ and prioritized His plan in their decision-making. They taught me the foundational things about life. They mentored me through the many crises caused by my chronic back problems, and they released me like a well-aimed arrow.
Today, I consider them friends and mentors. I call them every few weeks to catch up and on holidays when my wife reminds me. I trust that when I ask them for counsel, they will shoot straight with me. They don’t tell me what they think I want to hear for the sake of ease. They don’t manipulate my decisions to serve their agenda. They mentor me as they parented, with the wisdom of the Bible as the compass to guide the ship. That’s a pretty lucky combination of numbers on my lotto ticket.
Much of our instincts about parenting are forged in us by the examples we grew up around. How did they handle a given situation? Reflexively, I will probably do the same. For good or ill, much of our behaviors are ingrained in us. Sometimes that works for us. Other times, not so much. It’s the work of a lifetime to change our habits if they need to be rewired. It requires daily effort, hard self-examination, difficult choices, intentional adjustment of our priorities, and some minor miracles. Be thankful for every good habit and value that your parents instilled within your heart. They are assets that pay daily dividends for a lifetime.
Because of my parents, I had a good track laid out for me, not that I was aware of it at the time. I felt like I was strapped into an untested rollercoaster. Michelle and I were at the summit anticipating the rollercoaster’s plunge into motion. Excited. Scared. Uncertain. What will it be like? What do I do? How did this happen? Well, I know how it happened. But, am I qualified for this? What if I ruin this kid’s life? What if I do everything wrong?
I remember a thousand conversations with my wife. We were pregnant with excitement and more nervous energy than we could contain. We stared down at this rollercoaster’s tangle of loopty-looping tracks and corkscrews and couldn’t make sense of all the conflicting advice. Time kept ticking. Time to pack a bag for the hospital. Then…“It’s time to have a baby!” our OB/GYN announced. Gut wrench. Hold on. Before the first drop, no one knows what to expect. No one is qualified. And yet, the coaster doesn’t stop. “Congratulations! You have a beautiful, baby girl!” Whoooooooa! Down the track, Michelle and I plunged, and at that moment, everything changed. I became a father.
What does it mean to be a father? “I’m a dad now,” I said the words and they sounded strange in my ears, but the proof lay in her arms. Michelle beamed. She took to motherhood like a duck to water, but I wasn’t so confident about myself. I wondered what I had gotten us into. What should I do now?
