Fraternity of Fatherhood
The sorority that exists around motherhood is truly incredible. When my wife found out she was pregnant, the amount of encouragement, support, and wealth of knowledge that were available to her, from the women in our church, in our families, and in the online community, were amazing to see. It's been equally amazing seeing her become a part of the community that prepares the way for the next generation of women to become mothers.
On my side, I found that there was less of an initial fraternity around the introduction to fatherhood. It's not that people in those same communities don't care. I live in and am surrounded by a wonderful community of great dads who have both wisdom to share and the spine to share it. What I have found to be different is the communal focus that surrounds this massive life defining event. While fatherhood has been universally praised and welcomed in these circles, the buck has stopped there.
Below are some reflections from the last four and a half years of being a father, the first of several forthcoming. My hope is that through conversations like this, we can normalize a fraternity of fatherhood. These were my experiences becoming a father. Some may resonate with you; others will not. I want to help sharpen the men who are already fathers and to help prepare those who, by God’s grace, will be one day.
After writing this, I noticed that it is largely some of the hardest parts of being a father that I chose to write about this time. Being a father is amazing. It’s a wonderful blessing. It’s an incredible adventure. My desire is that you will be prepared through this for the battle that is before you, encouraged that you are not alone, and strengthened to press on.
What Hurts Most
When I became a father, what hurt most wasn’t the lack of sleep, the now-absent personal time, or even stepping on Legos; no, it was seeing the worst of who I am put so plainly before my eyes. To be clear, this wasn’t through some morbid, constant introspection. It was just what bubbled to the surface. For example, the shame I feel from the amount of anger I felt with my son for his screaming in his newborn days. Of course, in my rational mind, I knew he was just a baby and it was all he had to communicate, but I didn’t respond correctly to the constant crying. Another example is the depths of sloth at times in wanting to hide from my responsibilities through delayed engagement in the hope that my wife might be the one who gets them instead of joyfully taking on the responsibility.
The goal here is not to make a list of all my failings; they are too plenteous. No, I’m simply saying that there will be moments after becoming a father when you will see the worst of who you are. Apart from coming to Christ, becoming a parent is the most transformational thing that will happen to you on a functional level – nothing else is really even close. This is the most opportunity you’ll have had to see what is in the depths of you rise to the surface. Doubtless there will be many, many moments when virtue comes to the surface, but so do other things.
Painful Growth
Closely related to seeing the worst of myself at times, what I’ve found most surprising on this journey is how painful growth is. Not painful in the normal way that growth is painful – the exertion of effort, having to let go of comfort, being stretched, etc. This pain, rather, was through the feeling of what I can almost describe as a sort of hypocrisy. Hypocrisy because I knew what I should be, yet I didn’t live up to it. Hypocrisy because I was not the man that I thought myself to be.
My third child has a better father than my first. Seeing those moments of weakness in myself after my first two were born stirred me to want to change. It is unfair to my first that I wasn’t a better man. It isn’t right that some of my rough edges were found and smoothed against his tender soul because of and through my becoming his father. Yet it happened. The lack of patience in myself found a root cause in the belief that I shouldn’t be inconvenienced. The belief changed. The perpetual annoyance of my second child’s constant screaming forced me to learn to compartmentalize. But these first two young souls were the means of my sanctification just as the third will be.
You hope they see that you weren’t content with what you saw in yourself that hurt them. You hope they see that finding your own shortcomings was what caused you to change. You hope, for all of your flaws, they know their father loves them and always has. You hope you raise the kind of men and women who will forgive you for your sins against them with the fortitude to overcome any obstacles you put in their way through it. But to look back and see that you, who are meant to be among their chief blessings, were so inadequate is a sort of pain I don’t know how to put into words. It will haunt and hunt you even as you see the change that has come from it.
Yet God, in his unthwartable grace, gives the greatest gift your children can receive through your weakness – seeing a repentant and trusting father. As much as your children need you to be a perfect father to tell them what God as a Father is like, in this fallen world they have a greater need to see a father who trusts in the Lord Jesus Christ. They need set before them the reality that in your failure, you looked to Christ for forgiveness and change.
Burdens Carried
Perhaps most pressing, you’ll soon find the burgeoning burden that rests on your shoulders. As a father and the man of your home, you’ll find that every burden that touches the household touches you. Bills are due. Parents are aging. Small souls need regular guidance to know the Lord. The pantry needs to be restocked. Their mother had a tough day and needs to process. The van is leaking while the sedan that doesn’t fit you all has A/C problems that just popped up. It’s time for family worship. You just found another project for the house. Work is increasing its demands on you. You have to set boundaries with someone who just crossed a line. The grass is getting too high. You feel your son’s eyes on you as you respond to a trial in which he sees not what a man says but what he does. You have a mulberry tree growing directly above your main water line that needs to be ripped out. Your daughter needs to know she’s the second apple of your eye after her mother. The kids need more time with their daddy. You teach next week. You need to get back to the gym.
The list goes on and on. And in all this, the buck stops with you – no one is going to come and rescue you. Your family needs to know that under all this you won’t buckle and will be the rock that they need instead of a friable clod. If you don’t hold the line, the crest breaks over them. Your stress becomes their burden. Your unresolved problems become a broken model they have to overcome. Your abdication becomes a suitcase of responsibility they are not yet strong enough to lift. At its core, masculinity is the glad assumption of responsibility. In this realm, that includes financial, emotional, relational, and above all spiritual, to name the main ones.
And this is where the burden comes – if you don't show up, reality will not stop. Your children will continue to grow. They'll continue to experience the world. Your family will continue to have to face the hardships that come in life. And the question is: who will be at the tip of the spear? Who is going to take the brunt of reality? If you step down, someone else is behind you. If you stop, the burdens don't. If you don't do something, someone else has to.
Don’t misunderstand, none of this is complaining. Nor is this the suggestion that we should seek to divest some of the responsibility. We signed up for this – expected or not. It’s a glorious adventure, an amazing opportunity, and a meaning-creating journey. It’s the most fun you are going to have this side of glory. But the burdens you carry are real and persistent. You have no choice. You cannot let them go and let them slide off your back. If the burdens are too heavy for you, what will happen to your wife and children on whom they fall? So, you broaden your shoulders, strengthen your back, and press on.
Fraternity of Fathers
You are not alone. The fathers around you understand, and we see you. We see you showing up day after day for your family. We feel the same weight. We carry similar burdens. For the men in my life – I see you and am proud of you. I want you to hear it again. I see you. I am proud of you. I see you working every single day to care for and tend to your families. We are not alone in this journey. Most importantly, the Lord knows. He is the original and archetypal Father. He is able to sustain you with the grace that you need and to strengthen your hands. Not only is he able to; he is willing. If there is to be a true fraternity of fatherhood, it must have him at its head leading, guiding, and strengthening.
In your failures, in the hypocrisy you see in yourself, under the weight of the burdens that you carry, look to Christ. He is perfect. He always lives up to the standard that he sets. He gladly takes on the responsibility of the debt of his bride. He was not only a male, but the archetypal man. Look to him to see the example that you need set before your eyes. Look to him to find the forgiveness you need for your failures. Look to him to see the mediatorial glory that will transform you. Then find a group of men to walk with, and press on with the glorious calling that God has called you to as a husband, as a father, and as a man.
