ran·dom [ran-duhm]
– adjective
proceeding, made, or occurring without definite aim, reason, or pattern

cog·i·ta·tion [koj-i-tey-shuhn]
– noun
concerted thought or reflection; meditation; contemplation

me [mee]
- pronoun
someone jotting down thoughts, reflections, meditations and contemplations with no definite aim, reason or pattern.

I hope you find it useful...

Showing posts with label fatherhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fatherhood. Show all posts

Friday, 5 September 2014

Friday 40 for 40s - #5: The kids

Item #7 that I'm learning I can't change is:

Our kids will never be this age and stage again

(See here for the full list)

Josh and Rachel went back to school on Monday - Grade 6 and 4 this year...


As part of my reflections on turning 40, I wanted to think through what was most important about the next 10 years.  One of the most startling realizations was that 10 years from now, Josh will be 21 and Rachel will be 19.  Whoa.

That revelation was a huge motivator for me to make sure that I really made them a priority over the Summer.  I know that there are only a limited number of Summers left where we'll have their full attention and so I'm grateful that I made lots of good choices about giving them my full attention, creating memories and spending lots of time with them.

When we first had kids, we got the same advice from lots of parents - embrace every stage, because they grow up so quickly.  That advice was 100% correct and I know that looking back, there are already stages that I really miss or have almost completely lost memory of.  As I step into my 40s, my desire is to make sure we are embracing these next ages and stages (as much as I am terrified about having a sassy teenage daughter), recognizing that each stage will only happen once and then it's gone.

I have already learned that every stage has it's joys and challenges and one of my major goals is to not look back with regret about having missed the joys or the challenges, especially if I missed them because I was doing things that I realized later were not actually that important.

In the end, it's all part of the same theme I'm focusing on more and more... be present in the moment but make choices based on what's going to matter in the long-term.

Monday, 3 November 2008

what josh is teaching me about God #8

Yesterday, Ali and I took Josh to his orientation afternoon at school, which he starts next year.  Josh met his teacher, spent some time in his room, while we went with the other parents and were given info on what we needed to get ready, forms we needed to fill out, etc.  Needless to say, it was a bit of a rollercoaster arvo - excitement for Josh, encouragement about what a great school he's going to, but also realisation that our little boy is growing up, that we're heading into a very different phase of life and parenting, that there are going to be some challenges ahead.

As Ali and I were talking about it last night, I said that it's a strange pivot point as parents.  In some ways, we've spent the first 5 years of Josh's life "reeling him in" - trying to teach him boundaries, set foundations, teaching him control.  From next year, in effect, we begin the process of letting him back out - allowing him to become more and more independent over the coming years, in the hope that by the time he finishes at school, he'll be able to stand on his own two feet.

As often happens during these reflections, my mind then turned to the way in which my fatherhood is a reflection of my relationship with God.  Through this, I began to think about the faith journey, and wondered if there is some correlation here.  Is it possible that the first part of our faith journey is about God teaching us the basics, giving us boundaries, setting foundations, learning self-control?  Then, as we grow, God begins to "let us back out", to trust that the heart-work that's been done has prepared us to be able to stand on our own feet a bit more.

Now, I fully realise that in saying this, it could be perceived that I'm implying that God wants us to stand without him, but I'm not.  I'm simply pondering whether part of the maturity process (including God allowing us to go through difficult times, where our faith is tested) is related around a similar type of pivot point.  

Again, perhaps the first phase of our journey of faith is very much like the first 5 years of life - learning to walk, to talk, to write, to comprehend, and, in the midst of that, to learn that life is not a free-for-all, but there are boundaries that we need to live within, if we are going to function as part of society.  But that's not the end.  God gives us the opportunity to "start school" at some point - to begin to put into practice the things we've learned, continue to grow, continue to expand, discover what it means to live for others, not just ourselves.  

Monday, 21 January 2008

what josh is teaching me about God #7

This morning, we took the kids to a new playground around the corner from us - so much fun. One thing I'm not sure about yet, though, is that to get to their bumpy slide, you either had to scale a rubber rope, or climb a series of plastic tyres arranged near each other, but certainly not in an easy manner to climb.

Josh wasn't real keen on the idea - he desperately wanted to get to that slide, but freaked out climbing up the tyres. I helped him (eventually) get up there, using the usual tactics ("I've got you", "look at me, don't look down", etc), but he really didn't enjoy the process, only the end result. Of course, once he'd been down the slide, he had another few goes at getting up there, with varying levels of success (the fact Rachel scaled up there (with Ali's help) fearlessly seemed to have little effect on him...)

What I was thinking about, though, was whether God wants us to be completely dependent on him all the time. Now, I know God wants us to depend on him, not on ourselves, others, our career, etc, but let me explain. My purpose in helping Josh up to the slide was to teach him how to do it on his own. He really didn't need me to hold him there, balancing him (I was happy to do it, though), and it was actually holding him back from being able to do something I knew he could do. So, I started wondering about whether God's growth in us is about us learning to stand on our own, to do the things he's enabled us to do - not that we do it on our own, we have his Spirit empowering us, certainly, and Jesus promised he would be with us always - but that God wants us to grow in our security enough to be able to climb and slide, knowing he's with us.

I'm not sure - in some ways it seems like a negative thought, that we wouldn't need God, and I'm not trying to justify us depending on our own strength. I just wonder whether we go too far the other way sometimes, and because of that, miss out on doing some things God knows we can do.

Thursday, 6 December 2007

what josh is teaching me about God #6

I arrived home from the U.S. yesterday, and it was so great to see Ali, Josh and Rachel again. I missed them a lot while I was away, and Josh didn't cope real well the last few days.

As is our custom at nights, last night I lay down with Josh to talk about his day, and (not surprisingly) he didn't want me to leave. Ali was at music rehearsal for Sunday morning, so I said to Josh I'd stay a bit longer if we could just lie still and not talk (he really needed to go to sleep). That moment was one of the richest of my life. he snuggled into me, and just lay there (something pretty rare for Josh!), letting me stroke his hair... bliss.

Then it hit me - maybe that's how God sees us when we've been away for a time. He doesn't want us to necessarily talk and tell him everything, grovel or enter with fear, but just says "let's lie here for a while - it's great to have you home".

Tuesday, 7 August 2007

what Josh is teaching me about God #5

Last night, Josh was getting ready for bed, putting his pyjamas on, when I was struck by one of those "moments". We're trying to teach Josh how to do up buttons at the moment, but before we got to that, Josh asked me to help him put his top on (knowing that the button thing was next). I said to him "no, you can do it", to which he replied "help me, Dad".

My first instinct was to do it for him - put his shirt on, do up his buttons, but a remarkable thing came out of my mouth instead. I said "No, you do it - I am helping you, Josh". I knew that I wouldn't actually be helping him if I did it for him, but would be helping him far more if I helped him learn how to do it.

I immediately wondered how many times I call out to God, "help me, Dad". I also pondered how often God's first instinct is to take away our pain, remove our suffering, fix our problems, but in God's infinite wisdom, he chooses not to - knowing we learn far more by working through it ourselves, and that we can't become whole if someone always does up our buttons for us...

Friday, 6 April 2007

woody the philosopher

I was reading a "Toy Story" book to Josh today, and in it was this very profound quote (taken from the movie):

"Look, over in that house is a kid who thinks you are the greatest, and it's not because you're a space ranger, pal. It's because you're a toy. You are his toy!" - Woody to Buzz

It's such a challenge to not let our identities be shaped by what we do (or who we think we should be). I find it so hard to understand that I am worthwhile, and it is not because of any of the titles I have or any of the things that I do, but because I am God's. Not God's toy in a negative way, but loved, adored, included, as a child loves a particular toy. I guess it's appropriate that I read that today, on Good Friday, as a reminder for why Jesus went through what he went through - so that we could truly, finally, completely be God's.

Monday, 2 April 2007

what josh is teaching me about God #4

Today, we took the kids to a playground. I never ceased to be amazed at the way Josh's confidence changes at playgrounds. At first, he'll be all over it, climbing, sliding, jumping. Eventually, though, he gets to a point where he climbs something a little higher than he feels comfortable, and he starts to freak out a bit.

All it takes, though, is for me to walk over, let him know I'm there, that I've got him, that I won't let him fall, and he can keep going.

I know I react a lot like that on the playground that is life. I get all cocky, thinking I can handle whatever comes my way, until things get a bit out of control, then I look for God's hands to hold me, to remind me that actually He's got it all under control, and that he won't let me fall. While that's comforting, it grieves me to a degree, too. I shouldn't just reach out for God when things are tough, but need to realise He's actually enveloping me all the time, and that I need to involve him consciously in the pleasure of every part of daily life, not just when things get out of control.

Monday, 26 March 2007

what Josh is teaching me about God #3

Josh has started to, at random intervals, turn to Ali or I and say "I love you, Mum", or "I love you, Dad". It's very cute. Last night at dinner, out of nowhere, he started stroking Ali's arm, and said "I love you, Mummy". It almost doesn't matter what else he's been doing, it melts our hearts.

I don't say "I love you" often enough to God. I wouldn't use it as a way of getting out of trouble (as I think Josh does sometimes...), but need to remember how much it melts God's heart to hear me tell Him how I feel.

Monday, 12 March 2007

what josh is teaching me about God (#2)

Patience.

I probably don't need to add much to that, except that one of the things I'm learning is how patient I need to be with Josh - when I think he's got things sorted, all of a sudden, he'll lapse back into old behaviours, doing things we've talked about before.

In those moments, I hear the still, small voice inside gently remind me... "sometimes I have to be like that with you, you know..." I remember the number of times I lapse back into old behaviours, the number of times I do things God has talked to me about before, the number of times I lose focus and drift. Good thing He's a better Dad than I am...

Thursday, 8 March 2007

what josh is teaching me about God (#1)

I regularly am amazed at the things my son Josh teaches me about God. It shows me so clearly how God is our perfect Father, and I'm so not perfect... but in the midst of my inadequacy, I hear God whispering to me - "that's how I feel about you". This happens regularly enough that I thought I'd start a list. Here's the first.

What is quickly becoming one of my favourite parts of life is at the end of each day, when Josh goes to bed. Each night, he asks me to stay with him, after we've read stories, thanked God for the cool stuff that's happened during the day. Ali leaves, and it's just the two of us, lying on his bed. I really want this to become a time when he knows he can share anything with me - his fears, his worries, asking him what the best part of his day has been, using a contemplative practice I mentioned here... contemplative youth ministry). Josh is only 3, so most of that goes over his head, and he talks to me about Buzz's incredible jumping ability (he's right into "Toy Story 2" at the moment), or about who's got a store in "Cars". However, and this is the bit God is teaching me, what I value is the time when we just lie there, being together, and what I yearn for is to know what's going on in his mind and soul. I know that's what God wants from me, too, not my idle chatter about things that aren't important (although he tolerates that), but to really talk, and get to the heart of what I'm thinking, hoping, worrying, wishing for and about.

Tuesday, 20 February 2007

being God's kid

As someone learning to be a Dad (and trying to be as good a Dad as I can), there are so many times when I reflect on my relationship with my kids, and am blown away that God thinks of me like that. That he loves it when I just sit in his arms and relax. That he loves to hear about my day. That he loves to hear me talk about the things I'm worried about. That he loves to make me feel loved and safe. As I once heard, God is not a reflection of our earthly fathers (ie "if you look at your father, God is a better Dad than that"), it's the other way around - we who have the privilege of being called fathers are a reflection of the perfect Dad, and all the best things about our fatherhood come from his relationship with us.