Friday, August 5, 2011
A Brief Timeout
No, I haven't stopped posting here. But after a three week flurry of posting I've hit a lull in writing while I relocate to a new house. It's going to take some time and I hope you will stick with me as my posts will be less frequent for a bit. Take time to read through my previous posts and please comment. I want this to be a helpful resource and would certainly answer questions if you leave them in the comments section.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Now It's Your Turn
Consider this…
• Based on your personality come up with a plan to spend substantial time with your children. This may or may not mean putting them on your calendar.
• Have you promised time with your kids and not kept your promise? This isn’t irreparable if you can start making promises you’re able to keep.
• Sit down with your children and ask them what they might like to do if you spent time together. Once they get over the shock you might be surprised at some of the ideas.
• What are some ways you can get involved in your kids’ school or with their friends to broaden your involvement in their lives?
• Based on your personality come up with a plan to spend substantial time with your children. This may or may not mean putting them on your calendar.
• Have you promised time with your kids and not kept your promise? This isn’t irreparable if you can start making promises you’re able to keep.
• Sit down with your children and ask them what they might like to do if you spent time together. Once they get over the shock you might be surprised at some of the ideas.
• What are some ways you can get involved in your kids’ school or with their friends to broaden your involvement in their lives?
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Intentional Attention
Anyway, I was saying that when my kids came along this whole concept of time together was pretty foreign to me. Besides the lack of any good role model I was a confirmed workaholic and working in the church. Church work isn’t like a nine to five job so I had plenty of excuses for not being home at night or keeping a regular schedule. My wife did a wonderfully gentle job of helping me see the kids need for time with me.
I admit, though, that in my head if there wasn’t a specific task to be accomplished then I had a hard time justifying the investment of time. This isn’t an exaggeration. I can remember arguments with Elizabeth that were caused by my inability to see the value in “just hanging around.” If you’re not “doing” something then you’re just wasting time. Come to think of it that may be something I learned from my dad. If you’re not producing something then you’re lazy. I’m not saying I didn’t roll around on the floor with my kids when they were little. That was something I’d do before dinner or between dinner and the start of the prime time television shows. It was filler in those little gaps between doing something that was scheduled. The suggestion my wife made that stuck for me was the idea of actually putting the kids on my schedule. While this may sound heartless or cold, it actually was a very good idea for a guy who didn’t know how to relax and had no good model for how to spend time with his kids.
So, while the kids were still quite young I started scheduling time with them on my calendar. I found that the way I was wired it was necessary for me to make time for my kids in a very intentional way.
Jared comments...
I think this way of doing it is really good. You’re intentionally making time with your kids. It’s like you’re making a date with them. It’s better than making vague promises then blowing them off. The thing about scheduling time is that you have to be true to your word. My dad scheduled time to pick me up or call me and then blew me off. Don’t schedule time with your kids if you’re not going to follow through.
Tim continues...
So there were Jesse and Laina days in my schedule. We rarely had a set schedule within the day but we’d spend a good long portion of the day. Sometimes we’d go for a long drive and just talk, stop to play miniature golf. Sometimes it was a visit to a museum. Once Laina and I went ice-skating. As we’ve said before, it wasn’t about what we did; it was about being together and having the opportunity to get to know each other. As the kids got older I volunteered to coach sports with Jesse and direct plays Laina was in. These were scheduled activities and there were other kids involved. But this kind of interaction brought another benefit. As father I was comfortable in my kids’ spaces. I got to know their friends and was well known at their school. It wasn’t embarrassing for my kids to have dad around.
Maybe scheduling time with your kids is an idea that’ll work for you, and maybe not. And it wasn’t just the scheduled time that I spent with my kids. There were other times but the scheduling provided the large chunks of time when relationships could be built. That’s the key as you practice presence. Find large chunks of time where the main point is you being with your children. Not in front of the television or at the movies, but time when they have your undivided attention. There is not a single investment of any sort that will pay greater dividends than the investment of time.
I admit, though, that in my head if there wasn’t a specific task to be accomplished then I had a hard time justifying the investment of time. This isn’t an exaggeration. I can remember arguments with Elizabeth that were caused by my inability to see the value in “just hanging around.” If you’re not “doing” something then you’re just wasting time. Come to think of it that may be something I learned from my dad. If you’re not producing something then you’re lazy. I’m not saying I didn’t roll around on the floor with my kids when they were little. That was something I’d do before dinner or between dinner and the start of the prime time television shows. It was filler in those little gaps between doing something that was scheduled. The suggestion my wife made that stuck for me was the idea of actually putting the kids on my schedule. While this may sound heartless or cold, it actually was a very good idea for a guy who didn’t know how to relax and had no good model for how to spend time with his kids.
So, while the kids were still quite young I started scheduling time with them on my calendar. I found that the way I was wired it was necessary for me to make time for my kids in a very intentional way.
Jared comments...
I think this way of doing it is really good. You’re intentionally making time with your kids. It’s like you’re making a date with them. It’s better than making vague promises then blowing them off. The thing about scheduling time is that you have to be true to your word. My dad scheduled time to pick me up or call me and then blew me off. Don’t schedule time with your kids if you’re not going to follow through.
Tim continues...
So there were Jesse and Laina days in my schedule. We rarely had a set schedule within the day but we’d spend a good long portion of the day. Sometimes we’d go for a long drive and just talk, stop to play miniature golf. Sometimes it was a visit to a museum. Once Laina and I went ice-skating. As we’ve said before, it wasn’t about what we did; it was about being together and having the opportunity to get to know each other. As the kids got older I volunteered to coach sports with Jesse and direct plays Laina was in. These were scheduled activities and there were other kids involved. But this kind of interaction brought another benefit. As father I was comfortable in my kids’ spaces. I got to know their friends and was well known at their school. It wasn’t embarrassing for my kids to have dad around.
Maybe scheduling time with your kids is an idea that’ll work for you, and maybe not. And it wasn’t just the scheduled time that I spent with my kids. There were other times but the scheduling provided the large chunks of time when relationships could be built. That’s the key as you practice presence. Find large chunks of time where the main point is you being with your children. Not in front of the television or at the movies, but time when they have your undivided attention. There is not a single investment of any sort that will pay greater dividends than the investment of time.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Finding a Role Model
Over the course of the weekend and after talking quite a bit with Jared, I came to believe that the best way to share what we’re sharing here was to do it together. And, so far, it’s been an awesome experience spending time writing, talking and sharing our life experiences separated by 36 years and yet so connected.
We want very much to include Biblical examples of good fathering with each chapter. I’ve searched the scriptures looking for good stories of men who spent time with their sons. Unfortunately, there are none! Not that there aren’t good stories of men who loved their sons. Abraham loved Isaac very much. But he also had a son, Ishmael, with another woman who he sent away. Jacob had several sons but played favorites with Joseph and that turned out badly for quite some time. David had many sons he loved. But one attempted a coup, one raped his own half sister and one claimed the throne before David was actually dead. Even in the parable of the Prodigal Son the father is rejected by the younger son who, only after severe hardship, comes around to accept his father’s love. In the end the only father who is the best model of faithfulness, constancy and all things good is God, Himself. That’s a curious discovery that might be worth deeper consideration in the future. For now it seems that good father role models have always been hard to find!
We want very much to include Biblical examples of good fathering with each chapter. I’ve searched the scriptures looking for good stories of men who spent time with their sons. Unfortunately, there are none! Not that there aren’t good stories of men who loved their sons. Abraham loved Isaac very much. But he also had a son, Ishmael, with another woman who he sent away. Jacob had several sons but played favorites with Joseph and that turned out badly for quite some time. David had many sons he loved. But one attempted a coup, one raped his own half sister and one claimed the throne before David was actually dead. Even in the parable of the Prodigal Son the father is rejected by the younger son who, only after severe hardship, comes around to accept his father’s love. In the end the only father who is the best model of faithfulness, constancy and all things good is God, Himself. That’s a curious discovery that might be worth deeper consideration in the future. For now it seems that good father role models have always been hard to find!
Thursday, July 28, 2011
An Experience Sadly All Too Common
In addition to the incredible sense of loss as a man who desperately wanted the attention of the dad in his life and never got it, I was also left with a void in my experience of what a father should do with his children. I could guess from what I wished I’d had but when it came time for me to be a dad it wasn’t something I’d seen done very well.
Without good role models, I was always unsure of myself. I used to think this was an isolated problem until I started hanging out with other men who were working through personal pain and life issues. One night, as we sat in a circle and shared, man after man acknowledged the pain suffered at the hands of a father. And many echoed my experience of being really uncertain about how to be a father themselves. Hearing all these men was an epiphany for me and, as I alluded to in the introduction, it was the moment that inspired the writing of this book. I wondered how many more men like us were out there wondering what being a father looks like and hoping to get it right.
Jared writes...
The day after that meeting Tim was telling me about all the guys the night before who had talked about the struggles they had with their fathers and the struggles they had with being a father. Everything he said hit home in a heartbeat. I felt like if I were old enough I could be in that group talking about my dad. When he told me about the book idea I got really excited and told him…pretty much insisted…that he write that book. I’m sure this book can help a lot of people. It can help men be better fathers and there are a lot of kids out here waiting for their dad’s to show up…like a knight on a white horse…to save them. That’s what my heart has been longing for. There’s a part of me that hopes my dad reads this book and gets a clue about what I need from him.
Without good role models, I was always unsure of myself. I used to think this was an isolated problem until I started hanging out with other men who were working through personal pain and life issues. One night, as we sat in a circle and shared, man after man acknowledged the pain suffered at the hands of a father. And many echoed my experience of being really uncertain about how to be a father themselves. Hearing all these men was an epiphany for me and, as I alluded to in the introduction, it was the moment that inspired the writing of this book. I wondered how many more men like us were out there wondering what being a father looks like and hoping to get it right.
Jared writes...
The day after that meeting Tim was telling me about all the guys the night before who had talked about the struggles they had with their fathers and the struggles they had with being a father. Everything he said hit home in a heartbeat. I felt like if I were old enough I could be in that group talking about my dad. When he told me about the book idea I got really excited and told him…pretty much insisted…that he write that book. I’m sure this book can help a lot of people. It can help men be better fathers and there are a lot of kids out here waiting for their dad’s to show up…like a knight on a white horse…to save them. That’s what my heart has been longing for. There’s a part of me that hopes my dad reads this book and gets a clue about what I need from him.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Board Games and Baseball
At the other end of my childhood I can remember my senior year in high school. My mom was the creative type. Among her many creations was an oversized chess board. She had taken an old round coffee table and covered it in squares of white and black faux leather in the center. The edges she upholstered in the black material with batting underneath to make the edges puffy. It sounds odd, and it probably was, but we had this large chess board in the living room. I’m not sure how it started, but for several months during my senior year my stepfather and I played chess, sometimes in stretches of several nights in a row. We hardly communicated in any other way. But we played chess. I think it became a way of measuring myself against him as I worked to win. Those weren’t exactly fun times, but they were times when I wasn’t uncomfortable around him.
Between kindergarten and senior year in high school there are very few positive memories of my dad being around. I competed in speech competitions and he never came to a single one. I played football, I wrestled, I was in school plays and I don’t remember him coming to a single thing. We never went fishing together. We never played catch that I recall.
Regarding that, one of the most powerful movies ever produced, in my opinion, is Field of Dreams. It presents itself as a baseball movie but it’s really a movie about fathers and sons. I went to see that movie in the theater with my good friend Wally. His father was also absent in his childhood. The two of us grown men sat sobbing in the theater touched by the story of a son estranged from his father. To this day when Kevin Costner meets his dad on that field in Iowa and says, “want to have a catch?” I break into tears. I never had a catch with my dad. Either one of them.
Between kindergarten and senior year in high school there are very few positive memories of my dad being around. I competed in speech competitions and he never came to a single one. I played football, I wrestled, I was in school plays and I don’t remember him coming to a single thing. We never went fishing together. We never played catch that I recall.
Regarding that, one of the most powerful movies ever produced, in my opinion, is Field of Dreams. It presents itself as a baseball movie but it’s really a movie about fathers and sons. I went to see that movie in the theater with my good friend Wally. His father was also absent in his childhood. The two of us grown men sat sobbing in the theater touched by the story of a son estranged from his father. To this day when Kevin Costner meets his dad on that field in Iowa and says, “want to have a catch?” I break into tears. I never had a catch with my dad. Either one of them.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Quantity AND Quality
Slick and Uncle Virgil are two guys who got it right. And that doesn’t mean they were perfect or got everything about fathering right. The art of fathering isn’t about always being right or always being fair, or strong, or smart. Crucial to success in fathering is simply being there. It doesn’t have to be planned or scheduled, though there are times where that can be a good thing, too. A child craves time with dad. Not just in close proximity to dad but resting in the heart of dad’s attention.
Here’s where I have to say that, I think, all of us struggle in areas where we lack good role models. While I had some good times with Uncle Virgil, it was the exception rather than the rule. I lived with my dad and he simply never engaged with me. There are rare memories at two different ends of my life. When I was in kindergarten my stepfather drove a beer truck for Budweiser. To this day I associate the Budweiser logo with him and, understandably, I’m not a fan of that brand! But I do remember a time when he took me on his route. It was awesome. To sit way up high in that big truck and stop at all those bars and restaurants was a great thrill for me. But much more than that was the thrill of being with my dad. Of all my early childhood memories one of the most vivid is spending a single day with my dad on his delivery route. Spending time with your children has a dramatic impact.
Here’s where I have to say that, I think, all of us struggle in areas where we lack good role models. While I had some good times with Uncle Virgil, it was the exception rather than the rule. I lived with my dad and he simply never engaged with me. There are rare memories at two different ends of my life. When I was in kindergarten my stepfather drove a beer truck for Budweiser. To this day I associate the Budweiser logo with him and, understandably, I’m not a fan of that brand! But I do remember a time when he took me on his route. It was awesome. To sit way up high in that big truck and stop at all those bars and restaurants was a great thrill for me. But much more than that was the thrill of being with my dad. Of all my early childhood memories one of the most vivid is spending a single day with my dad on his delivery route. Spending time with your children has a dramatic impact.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Are You There? - Part 2
The dad I looked up to was my Uncle Virgil. He married my mom’s sister and they had a son just eight months before I was born. My cousin Chuck and I grew up like brothers even though we lived two states away from each other. We’d only see each other a couple times a year but we wrote letters back and forth all the time (no such thing as cell phones or computers back then). When I was in fifth grade Uncle Virgil and his family were going on a fishing trip and they asked if I could go along. They were passing right through the town where we lived on their way to the lake. It was one of the best weeks of my life. I’ve fished a lot in my life so it wasn’t the fishing that made the trip memorable. It was spending time with a real dad. Uncle Virgil isn’t the perfect dad but he was always around. On that trip he was with us on the lake, played games with us in the cabin at night and told stories. Uncle Virgil always has a story to tell.
The funniest thing that happened on that trip was when Uncle Virgil went out to the outhouse (it was a rustic retreat) one night and he dropped his cigarette lighter into the pit. To this day I don’t know how he pulled that off, but that lighter must have been something special because he came back for a flashlight and went in after it! It makes me laugh to this day.
Uncle Virgil was real and he spent time with his son. He played ball with Chuck. He coached him in baseball and football. He drove Chuck on his paper route when the weather was bad. You get the idea. He was around. I spent a lot of years jealous of Chuck.
The funniest thing that happened on that trip was when Uncle Virgil went out to the outhouse (it was a rustic retreat) one night and he dropped his cigarette lighter into the pit. To this day I don’t know how he pulled that off, but that lighter must have been something special because he came back for a flashlight and went in after it! It makes me laugh to this day.
Uncle Virgil was real and he spent time with his son. He played ball with Chuck. He coached him in baseball and football. He drove Chuck on his paper route when the weather was bad. You get the idea. He was around. I spent a lot of years jealous of Chuck.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Are You There
Jared writes...
My friend Geoffrey’s dad is Slick. I don’t mean he’s slick in the old school way of talking…it’s actually his name, nickname, really. When my mom was between boyfriends for a time we lived with her parents. Slick and his family lived next door. Geoffrey and I got be good friends. One of the coolest things about our friendship is that Slick always thought to include me in stuff. “Hey, Jared,” he’d say, “how ‘bout goin’ with us to Red Feather for the weekend?”
Those times I spent with Geoffrey and Slick were some of the best times I’ve ever had. Not that what we were doing was so special, but that I was hanging out with a Dad, a real, live Dad. I think that’s what made it so memorable. Slick plays in a band and he’s a big scruffy lookin’ dude. Not your typical dad type, I guess, but he’s probably one of the best dad’s I ever met. And what made him one of the best dads is that he just hung out with Geoffrey and me. It was like a privilege to be invited into the time they spent together. It’s something I never got from my dad.
My friend Geoffrey’s dad is Slick. I don’t mean he’s slick in the old school way of talking…it’s actually his name, nickname, really. When my mom was between boyfriends for a time we lived with her parents. Slick and his family lived next door. Geoffrey and I got be good friends. One of the coolest things about our friendship is that Slick always thought to include me in stuff. “Hey, Jared,” he’d say, “how ‘bout goin’ with us to Red Feather for the weekend?”
Those times I spent with Geoffrey and Slick were some of the best times I’ve ever had. Not that what we were doing was so special, but that I was hanging out with a Dad, a real, live Dad. I think that’s what made it so memorable. Slick plays in a band and he’s a big scruffy lookin’ dude. Not your typical dad type, I guess, but he’s probably one of the best dad’s I ever met. And what made him one of the best dads is that he just hung out with Geoffrey and me. It was like a privilege to be invited into the time they spent together. It’s something I never got from my dad.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Practice, Practice, Practice
Consider this…
• Have you told your children the history and meaning of their names? If not, do it today and find ways to tell the story on a regular basis.
• Sit down and write a comprehensive list of the words you use to describe your children, words spoken to your children and to others. If that list contains more negative words than positive, change it. Go so far as to eliminate all negative descriptions of your children as people.
• Consider the non-verbal messages that serve as labels. Are you treating your children in such a way that they might consider themselves a burden, a nuisance, or unwanted?
• Take an honest, hard look at labels you’ve already attached to your children. This may mean asking your wife and others what labels they’ve seen you use. As you discover the negative labels you’ve applied, begin the process of removing those and putting new ones on. This may include the humbling process of admitting your mistakes and asking your children to forgive you.
• When you change the labels you use be sure to back it up with actions that are consistent.
• Even if your children are now adults you can bring healing by practicing these fathering skills. It’s never too late to bring positive change.
• Have you told your children the history and meaning of their names? If not, do it today and find ways to tell the story on a regular basis.
• Sit down and write a comprehensive list of the words you use to describe your children, words spoken to your children and to others. If that list contains more negative words than positive, change it. Go so far as to eliminate all negative descriptions of your children as people.
• Consider the non-verbal messages that serve as labels. Are you treating your children in such a way that they might consider themselves a burden, a nuisance, or unwanted?
• Take an honest, hard look at labels you’ve already attached to your children. This may mean asking your wife and others what labels they’ve seen you use. As you discover the negative labels you’ve applied, begin the process of removing those and putting new ones on. This may include the humbling process of admitting your mistakes and asking your children to forgive you.
• When you change the labels you use be sure to back it up with actions that are consistent.
• Even if your children are now adults you can bring healing by practicing these fathering skills. It’s never too late to bring positive change.
Friday, July 22, 2011
The Tatooed Man - A Cautionary Tale
I have one final cautionary tale that God brought to me awhile ago. Since committing to write this book my radar has been particularly tuned to father stuff. One weekend Elizabeth and I had the chance to visit our daughter at college. She worked part time at a steak house chain and, I have to say, she has wonderful people skills and lights up a room so she’s a natural when it comes to serving tables. Especially at a restaurant that has a playful atmosphere. Anyway, the place was packed and since I’d just dropped in unannounced after a long drive she found me a seat at the bar and went off to tend to her tables. A few minutes later a young man accompanied by an older couple took the seats immediately to my left.
At this point I confess that after catching a few snippets of his conversation I engaged in active eavesdropping. The couple I assumed were his parents were obviously not. Over the course of a few minutes he told them about his recent birthday celebration. He enjoyed it but was disappointed that he didn’t get to continue the tradition of the past few years. Apparently, in previous years his birthday treat was a visit to a local strip club with his buddies where he got the pleasure of a birthday picture with the strippers. It seemed a sad and inappropriate story to me, but he was telling it with great enthusiasm. He went on to mention his mother and the man she was currently living with. That’s when my “father influence” radar went off. He made some negative comments about the man his mother was with and I couldn’t tell if they were married or just living together. I could tell he didn’t care for the man and he made no comment about his father.
He was remarkably transparent about his struggle for identity. He bemoaned the fact that he wasn’t taller and more menacing in appearance because he didn’t feel people gave him the respect he deserved. He had decided to “remake his image”. He had my full and fascinated attention. He described the tattoos he intended to get all over his arms and back. Dragons and other threatening images to overcome the impression that he was young and “baby faced”. He even declared, “I’m almost thirty years old” and he determined he had to change his identity now before it was too late. I wish I could effectively share the pain and desperation I heard in his voice.
Here is an adult man finding his identity in strip clubs and willing to remake his physical appearance to rip away the labels that have been attached to him. I’m convinced that artful fathering would have saved this man from so much pain he’s suffered and so much more he has yet to endure. I fear there’s no way to fully communicate how urgently the world needs men to embrace the art of fathering except to say this man, sadly, represents the vast majority of men stumbling through life tearing away (sometimes literally) at the labels that have become their identity.
At this point I confess that after catching a few snippets of his conversation I engaged in active eavesdropping. The couple I assumed were his parents were obviously not. Over the course of a few minutes he told them about his recent birthday celebration. He enjoyed it but was disappointed that he didn’t get to continue the tradition of the past few years. Apparently, in previous years his birthday treat was a visit to a local strip club with his buddies where he got the pleasure of a birthday picture with the strippers. It seemed a sad and inappropriate story to me, but he was telling it with great enthusiasm. He went on to mention his mother and the man she was currently living with. That’s when my “father influence” radar went off. He made some negative comments about the man his mother was with and I couldn’t tell if they were married or just living together. I could tell he didn’t care for the man and he made no comment about his father.
He was remarkably transparent about his struggle for identity. He bemoaned the fact that he wasn’t taller and more menacing in appearance because he didn’t feel people gave him the respect he deserved. He had decided to “remake his image”. He had my full and fascinated attention. He described the tattoos he intended to get all over his arms and back. Dragons and other threatening images to overcome the impression that he was young and “baby faced”. He even declared, “I’m almost thirty years old” and he determined he had to change his identity now before it was too late. I wish I could effectively share the pain and desperation I heard in his voice.
Here is an adult man finding his identity in strip clubs and willing to remake his physical appearance to rip away the labels that have been attached to him. I’m convinced that artful fathering would have saved this man from so much pain he’s suffered and so much more he has yet to endure. I fear there’s no way to fully communicate how urgently the world needs men to embrace the art of fathering except to say this man, sadly, represents the vast majority of men stumbling through life tearing away (sometimes literally) at the labels that have become their identity.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
There is a Remedy for Bad Labeling
Jim Kurth went through what I could only best describe as midlife crisis and in the midst of it he left my mom, moved in with another woman and filed for divorce. It was traumatic for some of my siblings but an incredible relief for me. It was hard to get used to the idea that he was gone.
One of the unexpected consequences of his departure was the return of my father into my life. It was an amazing experience that helped me understand the power a real father can have in a person’s life. Even though he still struggled with alcohol and had any number of other personal problems, my father had a whole different set of names for me.
When I first met my father he took me around and proudly introduced me to all his friends and, seemingly, anyone on the street who would stop long enough to be introduced! His mannerisms and language all added up to “This is my beloved son and I am fully pleased with him!” I still carry the scars of my stepfather’s negative assessments piled on through the years, but my father’s unconditional love and proud declarations to the world brought unbelievable healing to my wounded soul. Hurt can be healed and none of us is perfect. Past mistakes cannot be used to excuse continued bad fathering.
One of the unexpected consequences of his departure was the return of my father into my life. It was an amazing experience that helped me understand the power a real father can have in a person’s life. Even though he still struggled with alcohol and had any number of other personal problems, my father had a whole different set of names for me.
When I first met my father he took me around and proudly introduced me to all his friends and, seemingly, anyone on the street who would stop long enough to be introduced! His mannerisms and language all added up to “This is my beloved son and I am fully pleased with him!” I still carry the scars of my stepfather’s negative assessments piled on through the years, but my father’s unconditional love and proud declarations to the world brought unbelievable healing to my wounded soul. Hurt can be healed and none of us is perfect. Past mistakes cannot be used to excuse continued bad fathering.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Truth in Labeling
As important as the initial naming of your children is, the labels you add to it over the years are what truly reinforce and define that name. Here’s another story from the Bible…
9 One day Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee, and he was baptized by John in the Jordan River. 10 And when Jesus came up out of the water, he saw the heavens split open and the Holy Spirit descending like a dove on him. 11 And a voice came from heaven saying, “You are my beloved Son, and I am fully pleased with you.”
Beloved Son…what a great label. Not only that, but his father is fully pleased with him. Your children need to know two things. That they are beloved and that you are fully pleased with them. That doesn’t mean you can never be upset or disappointed with some of your children’s behaviors. You absolutely have an obligation as father to express your disappointment and displeasure in wrong behavior. However, there is a world of difference between identifying bad behavior and labeling a child as a bad person.
The most consistent label Jim Kurth pasted on me was “irresponsible”. It seemed to me that, in his eyes, it was my general state of being not related to particular instances or choices I’d made. Globally I was irresponsible according to him and for a very long time I believed that to be true. It’s devastating to be labeled with words that are negative and hurtful. By words and actions we communicate so many things to our children. Stupid, worthless, inept, slow, clumsy, weak, not loved, not my child and so many more labels are attached to us by father. On the other hand we can just as easily label them genius, gifted, adept, graceful, sharp, strong, worthy, my beloved child. From a child’s perspective either set of words is absolutely true if they’re spoken by their father.
Which labels are you consistently using for your children?
It’s not too late to switch lists if you’ve been using the hurtful one so far. It will take some practice to check what you say to your children before you actually let the words out of your mouth. Here’s another Biblical truth; words have power and once they’re sent out they can’t be brought back. You can start sending better labels to reverse some of the damage the bad labels have inflicted. At this point I must acknowledge that much of what you’re saying to your children are labels first affixed to you by your father. In many ways you’re simply peeling them off and pasting them on your children. Think about that!
9 One day Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee, and he was baptized by John in the Jordan River. 10 And when Jesus came up out of the water, he saw the heavens split open and the Holy Spirit descending like a dove on him. 11 And a voice came from heaven saying, “You are my beloved Son, and I am fully pleased with you.”
Beloved Son…what a great label. Not only that, but his father is fully pleased with him. Your children need to know two things. That they are beloved and that you are fully pleased with them. That doesn’t mean you can never be upset or disappointed with some of your children’s behaviors. You absolutely have an obligation as father to express your disappointment and displeasure in wrong behavior. However, there is a world of difference between identifying bad behavior and labeling a child as a bad person.
The most consistent label Jim Kurth pasted on me was “irresponsible”. It seemed to me that, in his eyes, it was my general state of being not related to particular instances or choices I’d made. Globally I was irresponsible according to him and for a very long time I believed that to be true. It’s devastating to be labeled with words that are negative and hurtful. By words and actions we communicate so many things to our children. Stupid, worthless, inept, slow, clumsy, weak, not loved, not my child and so many more labels are attached to us by father. On the other hand we can just as easily label them genius, gifted, adept, graceful, sharp, strong, worthy, my beloved child. From a child’s perspective either set of words is absolutely true if they’re spoken by their father.
Which labels are you consistently using for your children?
It’s not too late to switch lists if you’ve been using the hurtful one so far. It will take some practice to check what you say to your children before you actually let the words out of your mouth. Here’s another Biblical truth; words have power and once they’re sent out they can’t be brought back. You can start sending better labels to reverse some of the damage the bad labels have inflicted. At this point I must acknowledge that much of what you’re saying to your children are labels first affixed to you by your father. In many ways you’re simply peeling them off and pasting them on your children. Think about that!
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
In Case You Missed It - Tell A Story
Through the years I’ve had the opportunity to work with teens as a youth minister. One exercise I’ve done over and over again is a name sharing. The rules are simple. You share your full name, first, middle and last. You tell about the origin of your name, how it was selected, any nicknames you’ve acquired over the years, and any other history behind the name you’d like to share. Finally, you tell the group the name you’d prefer to be called. This innocuous little activity is consistently one of the most powerful exercises I’ve ever witnessed. Sharing that much about your name opens the door to tell stories about family, origins, self-perception and more, stories that aren’t always easy to tell. It’s so intimidating for some that they can barely share anything in the circle. There have been some who say almost nothing except their name itself and some who’ve passed altogether rather than touch the pain associated with their names. The most amazing thing to me isn’t when someone can’t share because of the pain but when someone tells me they don’t know anything about their name. It’s happened almost every time I’ve done this over the years. One or more of those in the circle shrug and say “I don’t know where my name came from.” How sad is that? We need to tell our children the stories of their names. You, as father, should be telling your children where their names came from, why you picked it special just for them, the history of your family name, warts and all. We all need to know about the name that defines us and where it’s rooted. That’s part of what you must be doing as father.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Jared's Different Dads
To this day my relationship with my father continues a familiar pattern. I have to make the effort to contact him. It’s up to me to initiate contact and even then he doesn’t always respond. It’s hard to admit, but all these years later I still feel like an obligation on those rare occasions when he pays any attention to me.
For the brief time my Mom was married to Darren there was a man in my life who felt more like a friend than a father. I mentioned his immaturity and his inability to express emotion. For everything he struggled with, he actually spoke words that were encouraging to me. When I was watching T.V. he would watch me. I’m a real emotional guy and when I was younger I’d really get into whatever I was watching or the action figures I played with. Darren used to tell me how much he liked seeing my emotional expressions. Maybe it was because he had such a hard time expressing emotion, but it meant a lot to me that he saw something in me to admire. It felt good. Unlike my father, Darren was happy to share his interests with me. Whenever I would ask questions about his hobbies he’d go into great detail telling me all about what he was working on. It was awesome to have an adult connect with me that way. Once again a man was showing me something about myself by his actions, except this time the message was positive.
Dave’s style is different from my father or Darren. From the beginning Dave’s taken an interest in what I liked. That translates to feeling like he takes an interest in me. Unlike Darren, though, Dave has shown his interest in more of a “father” way than Darren. For the first year and a half when Dave was dating my Mom he was just another guy. And, to tell the truth, I was kind of done with guys at that point. Besides my father and Darren there had been other guys in and out of my life as my Mom dated. Things changed when Dave married my Mom. As I said in my story, he became the man of the house and displaced me as I’d sort of taken on that role. Once I realized he was kind of here to stay it was a bit of a shock as I wasn’t used to a man sticking around.
At first…and by that I mean the first two and a half years…we really butted heads. Dave had his own issues and a new wife, added to the two previous wives he had to deal with, and I felt like I was a burden. I didn’t really feel like he wanted me around. Once again, it wasn’t the verbal labels but what I read into what wasn’t said. There were some times where he would get angry and direct it at me with harsh words and that only added to the sense that he didn’t really want me around.
Now, as we write this, Dave and I have worked things out pretty well. He’s good at telling me how he feels without the anger. More than any other man in my life Dave feels like a father to me. He tells me he’s proud of me. He gives me pointers on where I can improve. He actually engages me in conversation and continues to take an interest in me. He wants to do things with me and wants me to do things with him. It’s not perfect, but it’s the best I’ve had in my life.
For the brief time my Mom was married to Darren there was a man in my life who felt more like a friend than a father. I mentioned his immaturity and his inability to express emotion. For everything he struggled with, he actually spoke words that were encouraging to me. When I was watching T.V. he would watch me. I’m a real emotional guy and when I was younger I’d really get into whatever I was watching or the action figures I played with. Darren used to tell me how much he liked seeing my emotional expressions. Maybe it was because he had such a hard time expressing emotion, but it meant a lot to me that he saw something in me to admire. It felt good. Unlike my father, Darren was happy to share his interests with me. Whenever I would ask questions about his hobbies he’d go into great detail telling me all about what he was working on. It was awesome to have an adult connect with me that way. Once again a man was showing me something about myself by his actions, except this time the message was positive.
Dave’s style is different from my father or Darren. From the beginning Dave’s taken an interest in what I liked. That translates to feeling like he takes an interest in me. Unlike Darren, though, Dave has shown his interest in more of a “father” way than Darren. For the first year and a half when Dave was dating my Mom he was just another guy. And, to tell the truth, I was kind of done with guys at that point. Besides my father and Darren there had been other guys in and out of my life as my Mom dated. Things changed when Dave married my Mom. As I said in my story, he became the man of the house and displaced me as I’d sort of taken on that role. Once I realized he was kind of here to stay it was a bit of a shock as I wasn’t used to a man sticking around.
At first…and by that I mean the first two and a half years…we really butted heads. Dave had his own issues and a new wife, added to the two previous wives he had to deal with, and I felt like I was a burden. I didn’t really feel like he wanted me around. Once again, it wasn’t the verbal labels but what I read into what wasn’t said. There were some times where he would get angry and direct it at me with harsh words and that only added to the sense that he didn’t really want me around.
Now, as we write this, Dave and I have worked things out pretty well. He’s good at telling me how he feels without the anger. More than any other man in my life Dave feels like a father to me. He tells me he’s proud of me. He gives me pointers on where I can improve. He actually engages me in conversation and continues to take an interest in me. He wants to do things with me and wants me to do things with him. It’s not perfect, but it’s the best I’ve had in my life.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Names As Historical Record
As I've shared, my name was changed when my father's changed. That's a pretty dramatic record of my life history. But it goes further than that. It transcends generations. My stepfather's family broke up when he was young and he spent some time with foster parents. One of those foster parents was a Russian Jewish man who I came to know as my grandfather. I adored him and when my wife, Elizabeth, and I had our first child I really wanted to honor him. We agreed to give our son the middle name Isadore. So our son, Jesse, carries the name of my stepfather's foster father who I knew as grandpa. That's a story to tell.
Our daughter's name is a version of my wife's mom's name, Elaine, and my mom's married last name. My mom, Judy, remarried a man named John Meredith who was her high school sweetheart. So Laina Meredith has a name that carries some of the history of our family.
So you can imagine that I struggle to understand people who make up names for their children that have no connection to their family history. Names that don't carry a thread of the story of where they came from are okay, I guess, but given the opportunity to name a new member of your family I encourage you, as a father, to consider continuing the family story.
In 2010 I became a grandfather when my son Jesse and his wife Noel had their daughter. When considering names they became very fond of my original last name as a possible first name. Talk about telling a story! When our granddaughter was born she was named Hanley Weinetia Kurth. Hanley was my last name until age three. Weinetia is a family name that's been carried through generations of Noel's family and, of course, Kurth is my last name and that of my wife and children. In the years to come the names of my children and grandchild open the doors to tell many stories of great grandparents, grandparents, parents and the families they came from.
I want to think that the story behind my name is unusual, the truth is that everyone's story is unique as is every family. Tell your family's story and make your children part of it.
Our daughter's name is a version of my wife's mom's name, Elaine, and my mom's married last name. My mom, Judy, remarried a man named John Meredith who was her high school sweetheart. So Laina Meredith has a name that carries some of the history of our family.
So you can imagine that I struggle to understand people who make up names for their children that have no connection to their family history. Names that don't carry a thread of the story of where they came from are okay, I guess, but given the opportunity to name a new member of your family I encourage you, as a father, to consider continuing the family story.
In 2010 I became a grandfather when my son Jesse and his wife Noel had their daughter. When considering names they became very fond of my original last name as a possible first name. Talk about telling a story! When our granddaughter was born she was named Hanley Weinetia Kurth. Hanley was my last name until age three. Weinetia is a family name that's been carried through generations of Noel's family and, of course, Kurth is my last name and that of my wife and children. In the years to come the names of my children and grandchild open the doors to tell many stories of great grandparents, grandparents, parents and the families they came from.
I want to think that the story behind my name is unusual, the truth is that everyone's story is unique as is every family. Tell your family's story and make your children part of it.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Jared Tells His Naming Story
My name was actually given to me by my mom. She had a friend who named her son Jared and she liked the name so much she gave it to me. Even though my mom never married my dad and she has married twice since, I carry my dad’s last name. The early memories of my dad are few. He was only around until I was about four or five years old. My mom and dad were never married and didn’t live together. He’d come and get me on the weekends and take me to his house. He lived in the mountains of Colorado and had a girlfriend who also had a son. Her son was about seventeen at the time. There wasn’t much at the house for me…not even a bed. I slept on a mattress on the floor. Mostly I remember spending those weekends just roaming around the house. I didn’t really interact with my dad. He’d buy me little toy dinosaurs and leave me alone to play with those.
It wasn’t that he left me all alone without checking on me, he would ask every once in a while if I was okay. But, for the most part, I was by myself with my toys or playing out in the yard. The only memory I have of spending any time with him…and it’s fuzzy…is when I would ride my tricycle around the concrete floor in the basement which was his “room”. Even then it wasn’t much interaction, I was just near him. As I look back on it I’m not really sure why he came to get me for those weekends except out of some sense of obligation.
Even without words my father named me. I’m not sure how to describe it, but I felt like an obligation. Nothing he put much thought or effort into. One time we were in a hot tub together and he was on the phone. I got myself into the deep middle of the tub where it was over my head. He stayed on the phone and simply stuck his leg out lifting me up so my head was above water. He met his obligation to keep me from drowning but, as I think about it now, there wasn’t any rush or sense of concern or care. Unlike Tim’s experience where words were used for the names given him, with my father it was the lack of words that told me I was unimportant. It was almost like being a ghost, invisible to my father even though he knew I was in his presence. I had to work to get his attention.
It wasn’t that he left me all alone without checking on me, he would ask every once in a while if I was okay. But, for the most part, I was by myself with my toys or playing out in the yard. The only memory I have of spending any time with him…and it’s fuzzy…is when I would ride my tricycle around the concrete floor in the basement which was his “room”. Even then it wasn’t much interaction, I was just near him. As I look back on it I’m not really sure why he came to get me for those weekends except out of some sense of obligation.
Even without words my father named me. I’m not sure how to describe it, but I felt like an obligation. Nothing he put much thought or effort into. One time we were in a hot tub together and he was on the phone. I got myself into the deep middle of the tub where it was over my head. He stayed on the phone and simply stuck his leg out lifting me up so my head was above water. He met his obligation to keep me from drowning but, as I think about it now, there wasn’t any rush or sense of concern or care. Unlike Tim’s experience where words were used for the names given him, with my father it was the lack of words that told me I was unimportant. It was almost like being a ghost, invisible to my father even though he knew I was in his presence. I had to work to get his attention.
Friday, July 15, 2011
The Wounds a Father Inflicts
The momentous decision I shared in the last post continues to echo in my life to this day. I love my father (as promised, more about how that happened later) and don’t particularly care for my stepfather. Yet I carry my stepfather’s name and my father’s name was buried with him. I’ve often wrestled with whether or not to change my name. Most recently I was reading “Wild at Heart” by John Eldredge who very eloquently exposes the truth about the wounds fathers give their children. He writes,
“Every man carries a wound. I have never met a man without one. No matter how good your life may have seemed to you, you live in a broken world full of broken people. Your mother and father, no matter how wonderful, couldn’t have been perfect. She is a daughter of Eve, and he a son of Adam. So there is no crossing through this country without taking a wound. And every wound, whether assaultive or passive, delivers with it a message. The message feels final and true, absolutely true, because it is delivered with such force. Our reaction to it shapes our personality in very significant ways. From that flows the false self. Most of the men you meet are living out a false self, a pose, which is directly related to this wound.”
It was no secret to me that I was wounded, but up until that moment I’d never really taken the time to identify any single wound as more hurtful than another. At some point I guess there were so many wounds I just learned to duck and cover no matter what. As I read Eldredge it suddenly occurred to me that the deepest wound, perhaps the original wound, was the changing of my name. Stealing the identity of a child and pretending it never existed was the first act of deception in a life that came to be built on lies and illusion. And it wasn’t just the wound itself, but the fact that all the adults played along. When I think of it I’m astounded that this wound that was inflicted by my father, mother and stepdad was flawlessly supported by both my grandmothers, my mom’s eight brothers and sisters, my father’s sister and all their friends. The deceit hidden was an undercurrent to my whole life wasn’t revealed for fifteen years! And it all had to do with my name.
“Every man carries a wound. I have never met a man without one. No matter how good your life may have seemed to you, you live in a broken world full of broken people. Your mother and father, no matter how wonderful, couldn’t have been perfect. She is a daughter of Eve, and he a son of Adam. So there is no crossing through this country without taking a wound. And every wound, whether assaultive or passive, delivers with it a message. The message feels final and true, absolutely true, because it is delivered with such force. Our reaction to it shapes our personality in very significant ways. From that flows the false self. Most of the men you meet are living out a false self, a pose, which is directly related to this wound.”
It was no secret to me that I was wounded, but up until that moment I’d never really taken the time to identify any single wound as more hurtful than another. At some point I guess there were so many wounds I just learned to duck and cover no matter what. As I read Eldredge it suddenly occurred to me that the deepest wound, perhaps the original wound, was the changing of my name. Stealing the identity of a child and pretending it never existed was the first act of deception in a life that came to be built on lies and illusion. And it wasn’t just the wound itself, but the fact that all the adults played along. When I think of it I’m astounded that this wound that was inflicted by my father, mother and stepdad was flawlessly supported by both my grandmothers, my mom’s eight brothers and sisters, my father’s sister and all their friends. The deceit hidden was an undercurrent to my whole life wasn’t revealed for fifteen years! And it all had to do with my name.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
A Slight Correction
If you've been paying attention you might notice a slight change in the name of this blog. In reviewing the original notes I've been working from I realized that the title Jared had come up with was 'The Dad I Never Had: Becoming the Father You Long For'. Which is a much better title than the one I had wrongly remembered. So now the blog name has been adjusted. Hope you're enjoying it so far.
My Personal Naming Story
My full name is Timothy James Kurth. That's been my name since just before my fourth birthday. Before that my name was Timothy Gerald Hanley. It's not all that unusual for a step dad to adopt the children of his new wife, but that's not really what happened with me. I was named after my father. He was Thomas Gerald Hanley, named after his father Thomas. When my mom divorced Gerald (like many people in the south he went by his middle name), she was already seeing Jim Kurth and married him just months later. My mother, father and stepfather agreed that my father would stay completely out of my life as if he never existed. To accomplish this deceit my name was changed to Timothy James Kurth.
At the age of three my father, who had given me his name, took it away and allowed another man to replace it. Not only that, but the whole family was in on it. But that's a story for another time. For now let's focus on what it means to me to this day that my father took away his name and allowed another man to take his place. I didn't see my father again until I was 20 years old. I promise more on how that happened later as it's a better story. But from age three to age 20 my father had absolutely no contact with me and nothing to say to me. Instead the man who took his place did the naming. To him I was known as lazy, irresponsible, careless, and other less than encouraging names. Those names stuck with me for many years and, to be honest, still have power in my life when I let my guard down.
At the age of three my father, who had given me his name, took it away and allowed another man to replace it. Not only that, but the whole family was in on it. But that's a story for another time. For now let's focus on what it means to me to this day that my father took away his name and allowed another man to take his place. I didn't see my father again until I was 20 years old. I promise more on how that happened later as it's a better story. But from age three to age 20 my father had absolutely no contact with me and nothing to say to me. Instead the man who took his place did the naming. To him I was known as lazy, irresponsible, careless, and other less than encouraging names. Those names stuck with me for many years and, to be honest, still have power in my life when I let my guard down.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Happier Naming Stories
There are happier naming stories in the Bible. Here are a couple…
57 Now it was time for Elizabeth’s baby to be born, and it was a boy. 58 The word spread quickly to her neighbors and relatives that the Lord had been very kind to her, and everyone rejoiced with her.
59 When the baby was eight days old, all the relatives and friends came for the circumcision ceremony. They wanted to name him Zechariah, after his father. 60 But Elizabeth said, “No! His name is John!”
61 “What?” they exclaimed. “There is no one in all your family by that name.” 62 So they asked the baby’s father, communicating to him by making gestures. 63 He motioned for a writing tablet, and to everyone’s surprise he wrote, “His name is John!” 64 Instantly Zechariah could speak again, and he began praising God.
65 Wonder fell upon the whole neighborhood, and the news of what had happened spread throughout the Judean hills. 66 Everyone who heard about it reflected on these events and asked, “I wonder what this child will turn out to be? For the hand of the Lord is surely upon him in a special way.”
18 Now this is how Jesus the Messiah was born. His mother, Mary, was engaged to be married to Joseph. But while she was still a virgin, she became pregnant by the Holy Spirit. 19 Joseph, her fiancé, being a just man, decided to break the engagement quietly, so as not to disgrace her publicly.
20 As he considered this, he fell asleep, and an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream. “Joseph, son of David,” the angel said, “do not be afraid to go ahead with your marriage to Mary. For the child within her has been conceived by the Holy Spirit. 21 And she will have a son, and you are to name him Jesus,* for he will save his people from their sins.” 22 All of this happened to fulfill the Lord’s message through his prophet:
23 “Look! The virgin will conceive a child!
She will give birth to a son,
and he will be called Immanuel*
(meaning, God is with us).”
Both John the Baptist and Jesus had names assigned by God in ways that set them apart for the work they were to do. In the story of Jesus’ birth two names are given, Jesus and Immanuel. Eventually many names were given to Jesus with some of them even nailed above his head on the cross. But his very first name was given to him by his father. Please don’t miss this…father’s name their children. Upon birth and over and over again throughout their lives we label our children in countless ways.
57 Now it was time for Elizabeth’s baby to be born, and it was a boy. 58 The word spread quickly to her neighbors and relatives that the Lord had been very kind to her, and everyone rejoiced with her.
59 When the baby was eight days old, all the relatives and friends came for the circumcision ceremony. They wanted to name him Zechariah, after his father. 60 But Elizabeth said, “No! His name is John!”
61 “What?” they exclaimed. “There is no one in all your family by that name.” 62 So they asked the baby’s father, communicating to him by making gestures. 63 He motioned for a writing tablet, and to everyone’s surprise he wrote, “His name is John!” 64 Instantly Zechariah could speak again, and he began praising God.
65 Wonder fell upon the whole neighborhood, and the news of what had happened spread throughout the Judean hills. 66 Everyone who heard about it reflected on these events and asked, “I wonder what this child will turn out to be? For the hand of the Lord is surely upon him in a special way.”
18 Now this is how Jesus the Messiah was born. His mother, Mary, was engaged to be married to Joseph. But while she was still a virgin, she became pregnant by the Holy Spirit. 19 Joseph, her fiancé, being a just man, decided to break the engagement quietly, so as not to disgrace her publicly.
20 As he considered this, he fell asleep, and an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream. “Joseph, son of David,” the angel said, “do not be afraid to go ahead with your marriage to Mary. For the child within her has been conceived by the Holy Spirit. 21 And she will have a son, and you are to name him Jesus,* for he will save his people from their sins.” 22 All of this happened to fulfill the Lord’s message through his prophet:
23 “Look! The virgin will conceive a child!
She will give birth to a son,
and he will be called Immanuel*
(meaning, God is with us).”
Both John the Baptist and Jesus had names assigned by God in ways that set them apart for the work they were to do. In the story of Jesus’ birth two names are given, Jesus and Immanuel. Eventually many names were given to Jesus with some of them even nailed above his head on the cross. But his very first name was given to him by his father. Please don’t miss this…father’s name their children. Upon birth and over and over again throughout their lives we label our children in countless ways.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
What Did You Call Me?
We start with a question that so many of us have asked…if not out loud, at least in our heads upon hearing someone call us a name. Name calling can be hurtful but naming is something every father does. From ancient times it fell to the father to name their children. One of the most powerful naming stories in scripture comes from the prophet Hosea. God called Hosea to the difficult task of proclaiming judgment on the people of Israel and he used the names of his children to make the point. Here’s how the story goes…
So Hosea married Gomer, the daughter of Diblaim, and she became pregnant and gave Hosea a son. 4 And the LORD said, “Name the child Jezreel, for I am about to punish King Jehu’s dynasty to avenge the murders he committed at Jezreel. 5 In fact, I will put an end to Israel’s independence by breaking its military power in the Jezreel Valley.”
6 Soon Gomer became pregnant again and gave birth to a daughter. And the LORD said to Hosea, “Name your daughter Lo-ruhamah—‘Not loved’—for I will no longer show love to the people of Israel or forgive them. 7 But I, the LORD their God, will show love to the people of Judah. I will personally free them from their enemies without any help from weapons or armies.”
8 After Gomer had weaned Lo-ruhamah, she again became pregnant and gave birth to a second son. 9 And the LORD said, “Name him Lo-ammi—‘Not my people’—for Israel is not my people, and I am not their God. 10 Yet the time will come when Israel will prosper and become a great nation. In that day its people will be like the sands of the seashore—too many to count! Then, at the place where they were told, ‘You are not my people,’ it will be said, ‘You are children of the living God.’ 11 Then the people of Judah and Israel will unite under one leader, and they will return from exile together. What a day that will be—the day of Jezreel*—when God will again plant his people in his land.
1 In that day you will call your brothers Ammi—‘My people.’ And you will call your sisters Ruhamah—‘The ones I love.’
In just a few verses God tells the whole story of condemnation and salvation for his people Israel in the names of three children. I’ve always thought it was particularly tragic for Lo-ruhamah. Imagine being named “not loved” at birth. On the other hand you could consider it helpful to get that name at birth. How many people have sorted through all the names they’ve been called by fathers in their lives before coming to the painful conclusion that they were not loved? Maybe it’s better to know up front!
So Hosea married Gomer, the daughter of Diblaim, and she became pregnant and gave Hosea a son. 4 And the LORD said, “Name the child Jezreel, for I am about to punish King Jehu’s dynasty to avenge the murders he committed at Jezreel. 5 In fact, I will put an end to Israel’s independence by breaking its military power in the Jezreel Valley.”
6 Soon Gomer became pregnant again and gave birth to a daughter. And the LORD said to Hosea, “Name your daughter Lo-ruhamah—‘Not loved’—for I will no longer show love to the people of Israel or forgive them. 7 But I, the LORD their God, will show love to the people of Judah. I will personally free them from their enemies without any help from weapons or armies.”
8 After Gomer had weaned Lo-ruhamah, she again became pregnant and gave birth to a second son. 9 And the LORD said, “Name him Lo-ammi—‘Not my people’—for Israel is not my people, and I am not their God. 10 Yet the time will come when Israel will prosper and become a great nation. In that day its people will be like the sands of the seashore—too many to count! Then, at the place where they were told, ‘You are not my people,’ it will be said, ‘You are children of the living God.’ 11 Then the people of Judah and Israel will unite under one leader, and they will return from exile together. What a day that will be—the day of Jezreel*—when God will again plant his people in his land.
1 In that day you will call your brothers Ammi—‘My people.’ And you will call your sisters Ruhamah—‘The ones I love.’
In just a few verses God tells the whole story of condemnation and salvation for his people Israel in the names of three children. I’ve always thought it was particularly tragic for Lo-ruhamah. Imagine being named “not loved” at birth. On the other hand you could consider it helpful to get that name at birth. How many people have sorted through all the names they’ve been called by fathers in their lives before coming to the painful conclusion that they were not loved? Maybe it’s better to know up front!
Monday, July 11, 2011
One More Comment Before We Dig In
We’ll be writing this from two unique perspectives. We’ll be talking about the dad’s we’ve had and what we never had but would love to have had. Perhaps you’ll see the dad you’ve had and catch a vision of the dad you’ve never had. Together we’ll bring the voice of a man who’s recovering from the trauma of being poorly fathered and somehow learned to father better and a boy who’s still experiencing the trauma of poor fathering and can speak earnestly, heartbreakingly of what he needs from a father. Along the way we hope to uncover the tools God’s given you, place them in your hands and encourage you to practice, practice, and practice becoming the father you long for.
Meet Jared
(Jared's sections were first written in 2008 and appear here as originally written)
My name is Jared Allen and I’ve been asked to help write this because in my 14 years of life I’ve gone through three dads and many boyfriends of my mom’s not to mention seeing and hearing a heck of a lot of stuff. My real dad Mike lives in North Carolina (I'm in Colorado) and we have an on again off again relationship. He’s of the “kids are to be seen and not heard” belief. My first step-dad Darren is my six-year-old sister’s dad and really just a kid himself, at 32. We did share the same interests so we did bond very well. He bought me a lot of stuff and it kinda felt like he was trying to buy my love but I don’t think he knows a lot about giving a young boy love because his dad left and he also had a step father who was a big jerk. And last but not lease is my current step-dad Dave. Unfortunately by the time he became my step-dad I was pretty much done with dads or guys that came around with my mom. I didn’t want another one because I’d had too many already that had let me down and just kinda left scars. The way I think of the whole situation is it's like fresh new concrete and every guy stuck their hand in that fresh new concrete until that wet concrete hardened and there’s no way any other guy could get through. But over the last seven years we have grown to have a pretty normal step-dad/step-son relationship. We have more of a friendship than a father/son deal, which is perfect for me since the “dad” thing has been such a failure in my life. Bit by bit I’m squeezing him in some where in my concrete heart. I wanted to help with this book because I’d like other dad’s or other teens like me to see what I went through and maybe help them to make better choices than the dads in my life did. I also want them to see how their actions and choices affect their son’s lives, and ripple through and through. How maybe the hurt and heartache can be avoided.
My name is Jared Allen and I’ve been asked to help write this because in my 14 years of life I’ve gone through three dads and many boyfriends of my mom’s not to mention seeing and hearing a heck of a lot of stuff. My real dad Mike lives in North Carolina (I'm in Colorado) and we have an on again off again relationship. He’s of the “kids are to be seen and not heard” belief. My first step-dad Darren is my six-year-old sister’s dad and really just a kid himself, at 32. We did share the same interests so we did bond very well. He bought me a lot of stuff and it kinda felt like he was trying to buy my love but I don’t think he knows a lot about giving a young boy love because his dad left and he also had a step father who was a big jerk. And last but not lease is my current step-dad Dave. Unfortunately by the time he became my step-dad I was pretty much done with dads or guys that came around with my mom. I didn’t want another one because I’d had too many already that had let me down and just kinda left scars. The way I think of the whole situation is it's like fresh new concrete and every guy stuck their hand in that fresh new concrete until that wet concrete hardened and there’s no way any other guy could get through. But over the last seven years we have grown to have a pretty normal step-dad/step-son relationship. We have more of a friendship than a father/son deal, which is perfect for me since the “dad” thing has been such a failure in my life. Bit by bit I’m squeezing him in some where in my concrete heart. I wanted to help with this book because I’d like other dad’s or other teens like me to see what I went through and maybe help them to make better choices than the dads in my life did. I also want them to see how their actions and choices affect their son’s lives, and ripple through and through. How maybe the hurt and heartache can be avoided.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
What it Takes to be a Father
Let’s start by dispelling a great myth that has arisen in our society. The foundational lie upon which this myth is based goes something like this, “Getting a girl pregnant doesn’t make you a father.” That’s a lie, plain and simple. Impregnating a woman does make you a father. The fact that we live in a world where men who get women pregnant are routinely given a pass on meeting the obligations of fatherhood doesn’t make them any less a father. You might be one of the men reading right now who doesn’t want to hear this, so I’ll say it again…having sex with a woman and causing her to become pregnant makes you a father. Fathers have a God given obligation to the children they conceive.
Fatherhood isn’t easy but it is vitally important to the overall health of a society. And let’s be clear, becoming a father is easy. Fathering is a whole different story.
We’re not here to say we’ve got all the answers, sometimes just the opposite. We’ll raise questions you’ll have to deal with on your own. More than anything, we want to encourage you. You can father well, spectacularly well. It takes looking for good strong role models (the lack of such is one issue we’ll tackle), studying the great masters and practice, practice, practice.
Fatherhood isn’t easy but it is vitally important to the overall health of a society. And let’s be clear, becoming a father is easy. Fathering is a whole different story.
We’re not here to say we’ve got all the answers, sometimes just the opposite. We’ll raise questions you’ll have to deal with on your own. More than anything, we want to encourage you. You can father well, spectacularly well. It takes looking for good strong role models (the lack of such is one issue we’ll tackle), studying the great masters and practice, practice, practice.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
And So It Begins
“When I was a boy in my father’s house, still tender, and an only child of my mother, he taught me and said, “Lay hold of my words with all your heart; keep my commands and you will live. Get wisdom, get understanding; do not forget my words or swerve from them.”
- Proverbs 4:3-5 (NIV)
INTRODUCTION
The powerful influence of a father in the life of a child has, at times, been questioned in the last few decades. Recently there are more and more studies beginning to confirm that father’s are, indeed, crucial to the healthy development of children. This isn’t a secret to anyone familiar with scripture. Father’s are celebrated time and again in God’s word as responsible for teaching, leading, feeding and nurturing their children. This is not to say, in any way, that mom’s are not just as important. Quite the contrary, however, this book is specifically written to encourage men in their roles as fathers. The idea for this book actually comes out of experiences with men who’ve consistently shared life experiences with fathers who were “distant”, “unemotional”, “abusive”, “hurting”, “tired”, “busy” and more. Men who’ve shared their doubt about their own abilities to father their children and even confess failures due, in part, to the lack of any good role models.
Our big goal with this blog is to encourage men. We want men to know they can father in healthy ways even if they’ve had no role models in their lives. We want to give men tools they can learn and practice as they express their love for their children. We share this because we know, first hand, that fathering done poorly is devastating in our lives. Perhaps it’s been devastating in your life. The words in the Proverb quoted above are so true. Particularly powerful is this thought, children do not forget the words of their fathers! If you’re hoping to find words that are more helpful, we offer this book with hopes that God will bless you through it.
- Proverbs 4:3-5 (NIV)
INTRODUCTION
The powerful influence of a father in the life of a child has, at times, been questioned in the last few decades. Recently there are more and more studies beginning to confirm that father’s are, indeed, crucial to the healthy development of children. This isn’t a secret to anyone familiar with scripture. Father’s are celebrated time and again in God’s word as responsible for teaching, leading, feeding and nurturing their children. This is not to say, in any way, that mom’s are not just as important. Quite the contrary, however, this book is specifically written to encourage men in their roles as fathers. The idea for this book actually comes out of experiences with men who’ve consistently shared life experiences with fathers who were “distant”, “unemotional”, “abusive”, “hurting”, “tired”, “busy” and more. Men who’ve shared their doubt about their own abilities to father their children and even confess failures due, in part, to the lack of any good role models.
Our big goal with this blog is to encourage men. We want men to know they can father in healthy ways even if they’ve had no role models in their lives. We want to give men tools they can learn and practice as they express their love for their children. We share this because we know, first hand, that fathering done poorly is devastating in our lives. Perhaps it’s been devastating in your life. The words in the Proverb quoted above are so true. Particularly powerful is this thought, children do not forget the words of their fathers! If you’re hoping to find words that are more helpful, we offer this book with hopes that God will bless you through it.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Coming Soon
Part of my job is disaster recovery work so I've been in Joplin, MO much of this month. I'm returning home tomorrow and hope to begin posting the first entries from the book Jared and I have worked on. For now I can say that fathers play a crucial role in the lives of their children. This may seem like common knowledge, but it's important to realize this is true whether you're a good father, a bad father or an absent father. Your behavior as a father directly impacts your child for their entire life. Even if they live to be 100 and even if you never meet them. This blog and our book is dedicated to helping men see their role as father and encourage them to take it seriously.
In my last post I shared some about the fact Jared, at 12 years old, had already experienced three different men in the role of father. For me it was two men. My biological father left when I was three years old. My stepfather left when I was 20. Both have left indelible marks on my life that will be woven into what's shared here. For now I can tell you that one died in 1991 and the other in 1992 and every day I still deal with their influence on my life. And some of that influence was good...most was not. As always, I encourage you to really consider your father(s) and join me on this journey to become the dad you wish you had.
In my last post I shared some about the fact Jared, at 12 years old, had already experienced three different men in the role of father. For me it was two men. My biological father left when I was three years old. My stepfather left when I was 20. Both have left indelible marks on my life that will be woven into what's shared here. For now I can tell you that one died in 1991 and the other in 1992 and every day I still deal with their influence on my life. And some of that influence was good...most was not. As always, I encourage you to really consider your father(s) and join me on this journey to become the dad you wish you had.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Here's to Being Good Dads
Four years ago I started a book writing project with a young man who, at the time, was in seventh grade and was already on his third father. Having had two fathers myself, we had a lot in common. We met weekly and talked a lot about what he wished a father would be. We approached several publishers and no one seemed interested in our book. I've since moved away and fallen out of touch with that young man who's now in high school. But I wanted the work we've done to get out to people. And I wanted to continue working on the book in a different forum. So I've chosen to blog. At first I'll be posting the early work Jared and I did together. Eventually I'll add to it as I flesh out the chapters he and I talked about. But I also want feedback from you. What do you wish you had in a dad and how can I help you become the father to your children that you longed for your father to be for you? This isn't about bashing 'bad' dad's, though we may sometimes offer examples of bad fathering as contrast.
Father's play a crucial role in our development as human beings...good or bad. Men and women alike carry scars from their fathers. My hope is that you will find encouragement to be the best dad you can be here in these posts. Start by thinking about what you wish your father had been and let's go from there.
Father's play a crucial role in our development as human beings...good or bad. Men and women alike carry scars from their fathers. My hope is that you will find encouragement to be the best dad you can be here in these posts. Start by thinking about what you wish your father had been and let's go from there.
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