Becoming a Dad
By Stephen James and David Thomas
Relevant Books
The Ride of Your Life
There are two photographs in my (David) office that I can see
from where I sit the majority of the day. One is a photograph of
seven scruffy men in front of a wide lake. It is a trip that I
took years ago with six men who I love and who have played a significant
role in my life. The other is a photograph of me standing on a
dock in the Bahamas . I am holding a twenty-eight-pound mahi mahi
that I caught on a deep-sea fishing trip with some friends back
in the late nineties. Both pictures remind me that adventure and
wildness are longings of mine. When experienced, they stir passion
and bring pleasure. I keep these photographs near to remind me
of what I desire, who I am, and how I was designed.
The photograph of the dolphin has a revealing story behind it.
It was a trip to Marsh Harbour in 1999 with my wife and some dear
friends. We stayed on a boat for the week and would daily set out
for different islands in the Bahamas to hike/explore, sightsee,
eat, and fish. The first day of fishing, I nailed that twenty-eight-pound
dolphin. After a long, vigorous battle, I reeled him in to shouts
of delight. He would be the catch of my lifetime (so far). I remember
the first bite of him—seasoned and grilled to perfection.
It was pure glory. The following day, we set out for Guana and
did some bottom fishing. I caught seventeen strawberry grouper
and yellow tail snapper in a short span of time. I remember thinking
it couldn’t get any better than this moment—the company
of people I love and enjoy, a perfect day on the water, and the
satisfaction of a big catch.
The first part of the trip back to the dock, I reveled in the
moment and drank in the sunshine and the smell of the ocean as
I glanced at my bounty in the cooler, just waiting to be grilled
and enjoyed. And then the tide turned. I remember a slight unsettled
feeling in my stomach. I looked out over the wake behind the boat
and noticed the waves seemed a bit rougher.
Little by little, moment by moment, I began to feel more uneasy
and nauseated. The feeling would intensify over the next minutes,
and the ride home began to seem like hours and days. I tried desperately
to get settled, but nothing helped . . . nothing but throwing up
everything I had enjoyed that day and the glorious day before.
And then I threw up what I had eaten the week before and then the
months before. Lastly, I threw up the internal organs that I wasn’t
really using.
It was a long, tumultuous, “take-me-out-of-my-misery” kind
of trip back. I thought we would never arrive. It took me hours
to feel normal again. Even standing still on dry land, I felt the
movement of crashing waves. While I so desperately wanted to revel
in the glory of my day and to savor my catch, I settled for ginger
ale and called it a day. I went from a glimpse of heaven to a nightmare
in a matter of minutes. I moved from serenity to disaster at the
strike of a wave. Such is the story of my life . . . triumph and
tragedy, glory and chaos.
I am reminded of a scene in the film, The Count of Monte
Cristo. The story is one of betrayal, adventure, redemption,
and revenge. In one particular scene, the Count is giving a toast
at the birthday celebration of Albert Mondego, a young man he
encounters in Rome . It is also a ceremony of this boy’s
coming into manhood. In his toast, he admonishes Albert with
these words: “Life is a storm, my young friend. You will
bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the
next. What makes you a man . . . is what you do when that storm
comes.
Biblical historians tell us that ancient Jewish culture looked
at male development in stages. Childhood (birth to age twelve)
was a time of innocence. Around thirteen, males were considered
adults in that they were held accountable for keeping the law.
However, these “men” were not expected to exhibit the
full weight of wisdom until they turned thirty years old. The core
of this thinking acknowledges the idea that with age comes some
wisdom. But the reality is, however old you are, twenty-five, fifty-five,
or ninety-five, you are not fully equipped to be a parent. You
will never really be ready.
For sure, you have many questions about what it means to be a
good enough parent. If not, it is doubtful that you would be reading
this book. The secret to being a great father is being willing
to learn from your children. Successful parenting has a lot to
do with learning how to handle failure—both yours and your
child’s.
The truth is that it is okay to feel ill prepared. Nothing to
date has expressly prepared you for parenting. Certainly, you have
had many experiences in life that have given you a glimpse of being
a dad, but there is no major in college entitled “Bachelor
of Fatherhood.” At the same time, be comforted in the fact
that God has authored your entire story to come to this point.
This is a season that God has set aside for you to grow in wisdom
and influence. It is your responsibility and opportunity to turn
toward the moment with your whole heart, as best as you are able.
Bring all your fear, joy, vision, doubt, hope, dreams, and longings
into focus and take the leap.
A Royal Coronation
Whether we are aware of it or not, this new experience of fatherhood
will reshape our story. If we let it, it will inform both our past
and our future, giving us greater understanding and appreciation
of many things. Early fatherhood can be a time of personal transformation.
If we are willing, becoming a dad will simultaneously awaken our
pasts and thrust us toward our futures. It is a time of remembering
and dreaming. It’s a season where the soil of the heart is
turned over and prepared to grow and renew life.
One way this happens is that fatherhood affords men the opportunity
to move from being a prince to being a king. It is a time of accepting
the weighty mantle of authority. When you become a father, you
are endowed with additional power and influence. You will be able
to bless another person’s life like no one else. And with
the power to bless comes also the responsibility to do so. As a
king, you have the privilege, opportunity, and obligation to uncover
the image of God latent in your child.
We aren’t designed to feel “ready” to become
fathers. Culture would have us believe we can be. You will find
plenty of other books written for expectant and new fathers full
of lists of things to do and not to do.
We’d love to recommend ten habits of perfect parenting
to you, but they are only habits recommended in the midst of mystery.
We want to give you permission to not feel ready. Do you have the
courage to step into the mystery? The ride is wild and unpredictable.
You read the caution signs on the way into the ride. You have some
idea about what to expect and no idea at all.
Welcome to the mystery.
© 2005 Stephen James and David Thomas
Excerpted from Becoming a Dad: A Spiritual, Emotional
and Practical Guide (Relevant Books), by Stephen James and
David Thomas. Used with permission. |
