The quest for balance

James 1:16-18 (NIV)

Don’t be deceived, my dear brothers and sisters. Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. He chose to give us birth through the word of truth, that we might be a kind of firstfruits of all he created.

Balance is difficult for most people. Doing a good job at work tends to take plenty of focus and energy. Then there are hobbies or a social life between work and sleep. People who aren’t parents still have families and connections to maintain. Even folks who seem to have it all together most likely don’t, and I contend anyone who goes out of their way to express just how well they have their whole life compartmentalized is probably trying to convince themselves more so than their audience.

For me, and perhaps most other folks, this is a big-picture challenge manifested in daily struggles. Today it played out more or less the moment I got home from work. Jack and a friend were in the back yard, Kristie and the younger boys were blowing bubbles in the driveway. After a few minutes of chatting up Max and Charlie, I headed inside to drop off my stuff.

Straight away I could see a pile of dishes that needed my attention. But then I noticed the answering machine blinking, so I listened to the message, which was not for me. So I turned back to the dishes. Kristie came inside to talk to me about the day, bringing Charlie with her. Max, who does not like to be outside “alone,” came and asked if I could play baseball with him.

I told him we might be able to do that once I finished the dishes. But before I emptied the sink, Jack asked me if I could get him something for dinner. Knowing all three boys needed to eat, I fired up the oven and — culinary wizard that I am — opened a box of frozen chicken nuggets.

(Side note: these nuggets are shaped like of dinosaurs. Charlie likes to look at them and roar, then proclaim one of them to be a choo-choo train that drives along the table. If he is particularly inspired, he also allows it to take flight while he makes airplane sounds. Then he bites off the head or tail and moves on to the next one.)

Max still wanted me to play baseball, but by now I had “dinner” in the oven, was still finishing dishes (and then remembered I needed to fill the ice cube trays) plus I had to eat something. I felt bad I couldn’t just drop everything and play — the way I gave up weeding Sunday afternoon in favor of blowing bubbles — but sometimes being a good parent involves taking care of the things that need to get done and not just engaging in all the fun stuff.

At least everything got resolved nicely. Jack’s friend went home right about the time food was ready, so he and Max ate dinner together and spent most of the rest of the night with each other while I gave Charlie a bath and got him to bed. I got a much-needed reminder that I am on duty the second my car pulls in the driveway and that even if I don’t promise I can do something “later,” my kids will take anything but an outright refusal as a glimmer of hope.

This isn’t one of those evenings I’ll regret when we drop Max off at college 13 years from now. Sometimes you need to do the dishes, and I’ve already had too many nights this year where I put off all chores until the kids sleep, which is why I need a caffeine infusion about 90 minutes after I wake up each morning. We spent lots of good time together this weekend and I have chances almost every day to just enjoy each kid. I couldn’t play baseball tonight, but I read at least six bedtime stories.

The challenge isn’t being able to drop everything to play with the kids, it’s about the elusive quest for balance. I could argue it’s important for me to show the boys how a dad can be involved in housework and preparing food. I could suggest kids need to not be given everything they want whenever they want it because the adult world doesn’t work that way. Or I could beat myself up for skewed priorities.

But I’m not doing any of that. Instead I’m going to look at these few verses from James, remember my children are both gifts from God and also the marker of my most important responsibility. And I’m going to continue to ask God to show me what it means to be a good dad, both in the wide-angle view and also the extreme close-ups., then try (but not always succeed) to heed that advice.

For me, the thing about balance is remembering I can’t do it all on my own. I need help, and I know where to go to find it. And that has made all the difference.

A prayer for May 7:

Lord, please help me keep my life in check. I know if I am able to build on you as the foundation, instead of try to fit you in to open spaces, then everything else can fall into place. I have so many people and things that demand my attention, so many responsibilities that must be addressed. Please don’t let me lose my grip on my priorities or forget the lessons learned through trial and error. Open my eyes to see what you would have me hear, and help me to love as you would have me love. Amen.

The pitfalls of discipline

Deuteronomy 8:5 (NIV)

Know then in your heart that as a man disciplines his son, so the Lord your God disciplines you.

Surely the point of this verse is to remind humans of their need to be humble before God. In context of the larger passage (subtitled “Do Not Forget the Lord,”), God reminds the people how He led them through the wilderness for 40 years, causing them to be hungry and then feeding them with manna. The next verse continues the theme: “Observe the commands of the Lord your God, walking in obedience to him and revering him.”

Those are very good things for me to keep in mind. I believe very much in the important of humility, even if I’m not always great about putting it into practice. I want to be held accountable before God, though I know I am far from perfect. I don’t have anything close to the experience of 40 years in the wilderness, yet I retain a strong sense that God provides, even at times when I don’t understand or appreciate what I truly need.

That said, reading this verse today I am inclined to invert the meaning. I do believe God disciplines me. I know I try to discipline my sons. But my worry is about the manner in which I discipline. I trust God is and will be eternally fair with me, employing wisdom far beyond anything I can imagine. I do not, however, trust myself to be as good a disciplinarian with my kids as God is with me.

And yet I can’t shy away from the responsibility of setting rules, enforcing penalties and trying my best to use my parental authority to guide my children safely into responsible adulthood. It hurts me to think there are times when my heavy-handedness is doing more harm than good, or that I might be looking the other way when it would be far better to assert myself. With three kids, there are multiple chances every day to make good and bad choices when it comes to discipline — and the fear of constantly making the wrong choices can have a paralyzing effect.

I tend to think my parents did a pretty good job with me and my siblings, and I suppose when they started they didn’t have much more to go on than we did in terms of experience. Surely the house rules they grew up with affected their disciplinary style, and some of that continues to filter through generations. I suppose for better and for worse, depending on the family and the desire (or lack thereof) to continue successful strategies and consciously avoid flaws and missteps.

I will forever question if I’m the kind of parent God calls me to be, and I’ll know I’m not measuring of to a standard of perfection. But unlike a teacher who hands out a test and then waits to grade the completed papers, God is alongside me each step of the way, offering guidance, insight, direction and hope. It falls to me to take advantage of that divine resource, and further to not just try my best and seek God’s approval but to put God at the center of the process. If I can do a better job of ceding control, such that I am a channel for God’s love instead of a human impediment, then certainly our whole family will benefit.

As usual, easier said than done. But saying it is the first step. Without a plan, I’m totally lost. God is my refuge, my strength and my guide. Together we can do this thing the right way.

A prayer for May 6:

Lord, sometimes this parenting business is simply terrifying. I worry the things I do or say will cause damage far beyond what I control. I need you every hour to help me make good choices, exercise sound judgment and be as fair with my children as possible. I don’t trust myself to do it alone, I depend on your guidance, your calming presence in my life and the hope your love and grace provide. Help me be at my best for the people I love most. Amen.

Some things can wait for later

Matthew 13:24-30 (NIV)

Jesus told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field. But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away. When the wheat sprouted and formed heads, then the weeds also appeared.

“The owner’s servants came to him and said, ‘Sir, didn’t you sow good seed in your field? Where then did the weeds come from?’

“ ‘An enemy did this,’ he replied.

“The servants asked him, ‘Do you want us to go and pull them up?’

“ ‘No,’ he answered, ‘because while you are pulling the weeds, you may uproot the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest. At that time I will tell the harvesters: First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles to be burned; then gather the wheat and bring it into my barn.’ “

Max helped me in the yard today. Jack was with my parents, Charlie was napping and Kristie was on the phone with her mom. Max saw me outside picking up loose sticks and yellowed out the door he’d come help as soon as he finished his snack. So I left some sticks for him and tried to weed out some of the overgrowth around our hosta plants. Since I wasn’t grabbing sticks, Max wasn’t interested in that any more. So he offered to “help” me pull up weeds.

The leading reason I am not a serious gardener, or even more than a little concerned about the quality of our grass, is because I have three boisterous sons who love to play outdoors. From April to October, I am reminded frequently of a quote I’ve seen attributed to baseball hall-of-famer Harmon Killebrew:

“My father used to play with my brother and me in the yard. Mother would come out and say, ‘You’re tearing up the grass.’ ‘We’re not raising grass,’ Dad would reply. ‘We’re raising boys.’ ”

And so I was not terribly surprised when Max’s idea of helping was pulling weeds off at ground level, leaving the roots and giving me no idea where to go to dig. He did grab a couple of sticks at one point. I tried to lead him into tasks he could handle, and he did make a decent effort, but eventually he just gave up and went back to the garage. Though I enjoyed getting back to work without the distractions every 60 to 90 seconds, it took only a few minutes before I decided I should be done, too.

So I took my gloves into the garage, opened up a bottle of bubbles one of the boys got in their Easter baskets, sat down in the driveway and started blowing. In about four seconds Max was by my side with his own bottle of bubbles for me to open. Then he got out one of the bottles with the giant wand, the kind you have to stand up with and spin around for maximum efficiency. And we both blew bubbles for about 10 minutes until he decided he was done.

There’s no great moral here, no deep spiritual truth. Just a reminder — to myself, if nothing else — that some days there’s nothing more important than to spend 15 minutes blowing bubbles with your kid. The lesson on how to weed properly can wait for another day, probably several years down the road. The grass needs to be cut, but there will be plenty of daylight after work tomorrow. Today my kid needed me to just be there to have fun, and as soon as I realized that, mutual happiness was just a breath away.

A prayer for May 5:

Lord, thank you for simple pleasures. For warm spring days and pink sunsets. For low-key family dinners and children laughing in the yard. For quiet nights when adults are free to just talk about the day. You are the giver of all good things, and I try to be grateful each day for blessings too many to count. Please help me to be good seed, to grow and be fruitful in your love and to produce abundantly according to your desire for me and my life. Use me as you need me. Amen.

Seeking one mind, one voice

Romans 15:5-6 (NIV)

May the God who gives endurance and encouragement give you the same attitude of mind toward each other that Christ Jesus had, so that with one mind and one voice you may glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

It’s kind of convicting to think about how often I ask for endurance and encouragement, but do so in order to carry out what I’ve made my own priorities. So much of my energy is focused on being a good dad and husband. Worthy pursuits, but certainly there’s more to being a good follower of Jesus than just taking care of my family. After all, if I’m a saint to my kids yet unable to have a Christ-like attitude in my dealings with other folks, I shouldn’t expect the boys to be any better as adults.

It can be very difficult to keep this exhortation front and center mentally. Today we took the family to the local amusement park, which was crawling with thousands of people we’ll likely never see again. It can be so easy to view those other folks as simply part of the scenery — unlike, say, a family I might sit by on an airplane — and to therefore be in no way concerned with how they might perceive me or what effect my actions might have on them. Or to simply sit in silent judgment (the polite term is “people watching”) and think about how much nicer my family happens to be.

We did try to teach the kids, the middle one especially, about how to act in such a large crowd and open area. Most of the instruction was safety based, but some of it was comportment. He’s never been in such a setting — it doesn’t hold a candle to the zoo in terms of the scale, noise level and sea of unpredictable humanity — but the initial response was to treat it as just another stomping grounds, a place where running free was tolerated and nothing was off limits.

Fortunately, not only was Kristie quick to lay down the law, but the kids fell mostly in line. But again, the primary concern was safety. On future visits perhaps we can work harder on line etiquette, being polite to those around us and gracious to employees. Not that the boys were in any way rude or seriously disruptive, but these park trips are prime opportunities to be not just good but intentionally exemplary. I don’t expect them to set the standard, but I certainly can consider ways I might model for them conduct that goes above and beyond just blending in with all the rest of the “scenery.”

Look, I don’t know how exactly one glorifies God while riding a roller coaster or waiting in line for the teacups. I’m not a Biblical scholar, but I don’t think those tips are buried somewhere in Malachi or Philemon. Still, I’m called to treat everyone else the way Jesus would, and I know for a fact I don’t have a great track record. So I try to figure out my failings, address them and do better next time. And, when appropriate, I make my kids part of the process. I know of no other way to teach than to learn first. And if God opens my eyes, perhaps I can be used to help to the same for my wonderful offspring.

A prayer for May 4:

Lord, thank you for a wonderful day with my family. After yet another busy week, it was great to spend so much time together, just the five of us, and to see so much joy on the kids’ faces. As I prepare for another week, help me to see opportunities to do more than just go through the motions. Show me where I can be of most use, living not just for myself and my family but for your honor and glory. Give me a mind to treat others as you would have them be treated. Let me be something special in your name. Amen.

'Consider the generations long past'

Deuteronomy 32:7 (NIV)

Remember the days of old;
   consider the generations long past.
Ask your father and he will tell you,
   your elders, and they will explain to you.

One thing I most certainly want to do when the kids get old enough to understand is make sure they spend time with their grandparents learning about the older generations of our families. We don’t have any especially significant stories or famous relatives, but there are plenty of unique personalities, individual quirks and memorable anecdotes that constitute portions of our particular heritage.

I’m sure I wasn’t always the best at caring about my ancestors. And we’re not even talking about digging through genealogy records — one of my grandmother’s favorite hobbies — I simply mean keeping straight the names and spouses of my grandfather’s seven siblings or any more than essential details about my mom’s parents in their youth. That I know even less about my great grandparents is disappointing, and surely my own fault. I feel worse about it as the oldest child, therefore having the best chance to meet and know the most relatives.

This kind of intergenerational communication is going to be even more important as our society continues to rapidly change. I still get a kick out of my dad’s stories about growing up in rural Northwestern Illinois in the 1950s and 1960s when in-home telephones were a new development, let alone the advent of television and radio. Thinking about all of the amazing technology my kids will consider facts of life and contrasting that with the way of the world when my grandparents were kids in the 1920s and 1930s — it’s simply astounding.

Consider the world I was born into in 1979. It wasn’t really that much different, at least from a “conveniences of home” standpoint, than the one my parents entered in 1952 and 1953. In fact, save for the advent of the home computer and the early days of the Internet and cell phones, the world Jack arrived in back in 2004 seems closer to 1979 than it does to Charlie’s birth in 2011.

Sure, we had a TV in the recovery room after Jack was born. But I’d borrowed a cell phone from the newspaper. No one had a laptop, and if we did it’s not as if the hospital had Internet access for patient rooms. We had a 35mm film camera and an old Polaroid. But fast forward seven years and we were waiting for Charlie, sending text messages and emails to friends and family members, taking digital photos and putting them online immediately, all from the hospital. I’m not sure I took the time to save the newspaper from the day he was born — I can always just download a PDF version, right?

Of course technology isn’t the only thing that changes. It would blow Jack’s mind to hear about how school worked when my dad was in third grade, and even more so the experience for his parents. Charlie was born 111 years after my great-grandmother — a proud, wonderful woman who lived into her early 90s (and my sophomore year in high school). There’s so much my kids will be able to learn about culture, society and family traditions some day just by listening to stories from my parents and their siblings, looking over old family photos as still images come to life with each narrative.

In addition to my duty to make sure my kids learn about their own heritage is my responsibility to take pictures and videos of these boys who one day might be the parents, grandparents or great-grandparents sharing their stories of growing up in the early days of the 21st century, or maybe regaling some young person born in 2079 with tales they heard about people who lived through crucial moments of world history.

We also can pass down our faith traditions, which is something I certainly hope to do as well. My mom and I share a great love of classic hymns, especially those played on a powerful organ while sung by a mighty choir and congregation. That we have a chance to expose the boys to those experiences is a great gift, as is the chance to help them establish their own worship traditions.

I don’t want faith to be something they simply inherit, like a sweet tooth or inability to grow facial hair, because it won’t mean anything to them unless they make it their own. However, if they hear stories about the generations before them who made faith, family, church and worship the center of their lives, maybe they’ll appreciate how a strong belief system is bigger than one person, one tribulation, one relationship. It’s part of the fabric of our history — the core component, in fact.

Consider the generations long past indeed. I try to do so myself, and my life has been richer for the effort.

A prayer for May 3:

Lord, tonight I am thankful for the family members who have come before me, the spectacular series of events over the generations that led to my existence and that of my wonderful wife. I feel so blessed to have not only my own family for which to be grateful but hers as well. I hope our children will one day understand how many loving people are in their world and how lucky they are to have the chance to grow up in this generation and continue the legacy of those gone before. Please help us all to always remember your place at the center of our daily family life. Amen.

'The one who does not eat everything'

Romans 14:3 (NIV)

The one who eats everything must not treat with contempt the one who does not, and the one who does not eat everything must not judge the one who does, for God has accepted them.

We had a delightful, home-cooked dinner tonight. Max helped prepare the meal. When I got home after running a package to the post office, he and Charlie were sitting at the table, each with their own bowl. Max was thrilled his cheese melted, Charlie was excited he could say “Noodles.” And here I sit, with both kids upstairs sleeping and their bowls of food sit at the other end of the table, maybe three bites were taken from both combined.

It’s good to know God has accepted the little ones who live here and won’t eat what the grown-ups have for dinner, but it’s still pretty frustrating. I try not to treat them with contempt, but it is neither cost effective nor nutritionally prudent to prepare frozen fried food (chicken nuggets, mini-corn dogs, pizza) day in and day out just to get the satisfaction of empty plates.

Fortunately picky eaters, while challenging, are not a deep spiritual challenge. Devising strategies has proven emotionally taxing, and each refusal to consume a perfectly normal meal presents an opportunity for parental exhibition of patience and dignity. But I imagine if we can get each kid a high school diploma with our biggest complaint being, “They never ate what we made for dinner,” it will have been a smoother ride than anticipated.

Still, it can sometimes be difficult to see the big picture when the small stuff is so aggravating. This is true with so much more than just food. Almost all parents of generally good kids still struggle with something: homework, practicing musical instruments, brushing teeth, hygiene, messy rooms, picking on siblings — and those are just a few things I know I did that drove my parents crazy. Trying to get kids to improve in these problem areas isn’t a matter of perfection, it’s about using the time you have as their greatest influence to try to shape them into a responsible person.

I’d love for my kids to eat what we prepare. Chances are they’ll grow into it. My own diet has evolved a fair amount from my youth, and my siblings have drastically changed their food intake. But we can all still have family dinners together and realize the important thing is the communal time and not that everyone’s plate holds the same ingredients.

Still, dumping full bowls of dinner into the garbage at the end of the night… ugh. I’ll file this one under “Some day they’ll be parents and their kids will do the exact same thing to them.” It’s not much consolation, but for tonight, it’s enough.

A prayer for May 2:

Lord, I worry I take for granted the abundance in my life. I am richly blessed in the things that truly matter, and I’m in plenty good shape elsewhere once I apply proper perspective. I need to be thankful every day for my lot in life and live a life that reflects that gratitude. Please continue to bless our family as the children learn and grow, and help me do whatever I can to make sure they become happy, healthy young men worthy of you. Amen.

Open House

Luke 8:16-17 (NIV)

“No one lights a lamp and hides it in a clay jar or puts it under a bed. Instead, they put it on a stand, so that those who come in can see the light. For there is nothing hidden that will not be disclosed, and nothing concealed that will not be known or brought out into the open. …”

Tonight was open house at Jack’s school. We decided it was best to leave Charlie at home, but Max wanted to tag along so he, Jack and I headed over in time to hit the book fair before visiting a few of Jack’s teachers.

It was great to see his new classroom and teacher, as well as his old teacher and a few of the other faces we’ve come to know well over the last three years. While I don’t think she planned it, Jack’s teacher conveniently had a PowerPoint issue she needed resolved as soon as we got in the door. She’d taken photos of the kids and had them type a sentence about what they’re been learning, but it wasn’t playing automatically. So Jack got to work establishing a five-second display time for each slide, added a transition effect and then set it on a loop so it would scroll continuously throughout the night.

Making the PowerPoint magic happen.

He put his computer skills on display later in the evening when he tried to help a fellow student log on in the computer lab. She didn’t understand what he was telling her (though he was being pretty clear) so he politely typed the user name and password before going back to showing Max how to work a game geared to his level. Another quick source of joy for me was when Jack recognized one of the boys from his Cub Scout den. It may not seem like much, but out of context it’s kind of a big deal.

The words of Jesus from Luke kind of rattled around my head when I read them after we got home. We very much tried to keep the mood light, and I’m proud of Jack for his ability to interact positively with the administrators he doesn’t always agree with during the school day. I enjoy connecting with the teachers, and it’s clear they genuinely care about my kid and have taken the time to understand his personality. But with any school event there’s no escaping the reality that school is a difficult experience for our family.

But for one night I looked past those things and saw a boy who truly does enjoy interacting with his teachers (if not all of his peers), who can produce excellent work when properly motivated and who delights in being the big brother, showing his preschool-aged sibling around the elementary school he’s come to master over the last three years. It’s a window into the world that occupies most of his waking hours, though clearly filtered through the lens of a special event where the halls are teeming with families.

Some days I just wish the school year would end tomorrow, or that we could wave a magic wand and give Jack a different approach to bring to the classroom every day. But we can’t do it that way, nor should we. We’ve got to work harder in one situation than a lot of families, but that’s OK. We aren’t concealing reality from ourselves, just honestly trying to do our best for our kids. By what precise means remains to be seen, but the how will never be as important as the what. And nothing will ever be as important as how much we love our sons and want them to find true success in life.

A prayer for May 1:

Lord, sometimes when life is rough I want to tell everyone in hopes someone can offer a solution. Other times I try to keep everything a secret to no one will question me or think I’m anything but normal. But you know it all, and I’m incredibly happy that’s the case. I can’t hide anything from you, nor do I want to. I need you to know me inside and out in order to help me shape myself according to your will. Neither do I want to hide from the world the way your love has guided my life. Please help me reflect your light to others that they may understand the power of your grace. Amen.