Yesterday, Part 1 introduced the temptation for many dads to cross the line from being firm to being harsh. As dads, this is an easy slope to slide down. But it’s not where we want to be. We want to love our kids well and reflect what God the Father looks like, and so we must intentionally be on guard. Here are two additional cautions building on the first.
I didn’t grow up camping, but as a husband and father, I want to be a family that camps. I love being outdoors and see so many benefits to it. With the ever-present draw of screens and technology, I’m trying to cultivate a stronger joy in nature. In my head, camping with our daughter will lead to memories she will long enjoy. Maybe it will even start a family tradition she can pass on to her kids.
Anxiety is overwhelming. It can affect our bodies. It wreaks havoc on our emotions. And it consumes our thoughts. They race like a runaway train or get caught in a vicious cycle of spinning round-and-round with “what if…”, “if only…”, or many other possibilities. Anxiety awakens us in the dark hours of the night. It can rob us of a day’s joy and suck the life right out of us.
“The iron bolt which so mysteriously fastens the door of hope and holds our spirits in gloomy prison, needs a heavenly hand to push it back.” Charles Spurgeon
“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble” (Psalm 46:1)
The Problem: Life is Hard
Despite the way our culture values “authenticity,” most of us rarely feel comfortable enough to speak honestly and personally about the wounds and pains we carry, the weariness and weakness we feel, the dark thoughts we wrestle with, or the disappointment or frustration with life experienced. While it might be okay to admit generalities like “my life is a mess” or “I’m struggling along,” to say how and why we are fragile or broken, to confess our sins, or to share our burdens seems a bit too far. It can be an awkward moment of transparency in a world of surface-level dialogue.