As fathers, we have a unique calling to lead our children in the right direction. Each of our children is different and will answer a calling that is perhaps unexpected. And, of course, all of them are experiencing a world that is unlike anything we’ve ever imagined.
With so much at stake, accepting the responsibility of fatherhood is not for the fainthearted. Yet when we do, we find our energies result in a tremendous reward — joy. Jesus’s disciple John wrote, “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth.”
Who would have thought that experiencing joy requires so much energy? Today, we’re leading our children through an economic minefield, not to mention a nation rocked by school shootings and a meteoric rise in depression and anxiety for school-aged children isolated for too long during the pandemic.
Yet experiencing the joy of fatherhood is like nothing else on earth.
My own father’s life has been one great adventure. My father, Pastor Tommy Barnett, will always be a once-in-a-lifetime leader who continues through every turbulent decade to be a reminder to every generation of fathers that hope is always alive.
Living under my father’s leadership stretched and challenged me. He was the one who taught me to put myself in situations that confronted my heart and shook me out of my comfort zone. more here
Am I the only one who sees the irony of celebrating Juneteenth and Father’s Day on the same day? Did urban blacks feel left out?
Part of being a dad, (or mother) is also teaching our kids grace, mercy and forgiveness when they mess up.
Barnett writes a good article here.
Missing my dad this Father’s Day.
He taught how to think. Actually reason and problem solve. To work with my mind and my hands.
I know how to use a wrench, ratchet, tablesaw, dado blades, drill press, router, floor Jack, all of the man stuff.
The brain exercise makes me a top notch computer programmer that has never met a challenge that beat me. Undefeated.
I have fixed my cars and built some beautiful furniture because my Dad taught me how to use my brain.
And tools.
But mostly my brain.
Oh. And he taught me how to tie a fishing knot.
And the saddest story I ever saw was when I met this poor kid at the funeral of my stepfather. He ran up to every male and asked if he was his father.
He desperately wanted a father.
As it turns out he ended up in prison for murder. A lost soul who just needed a father.
Hmmm. Maybe we men should go be fathers to fatherless boys. It could be a worthwhile mission.
Not sure how this could be done. But there’s a hole in our society that needs fixing.
Today I got to enjoy fatherhood when my son and daughter both came home for a nice relaxing steak barbecue dinner.
I’m not usually an emotional, i.e. sappy type. But today was a wonderful one for me. I am lucky enough to still have my dad close by to me & I am a dad as well. My son has grown up to be a fine young man. Soon to be 26 in July. Amazing how fast the time has gone by. Seems like yesterday that he was a little fella. Sigh. He & his lovely fiance came down today, bringing me a box of my favorite cigars! Partagas Black Label! Yum! Had a nice cookout with my dad, mom, son & fiance. Filet Mignon on the grill! Better get them while you can, they will soon cost you more than your house. After, dad, me & son had “guy time” with a great smoke, cold beer on ice & just some wonderful conversation about our younger days. If I died tomorrow, I would die a most lucky man. Praise to all of the dad’s out there. Always remember, “Any man can be father, but it takes a special man to be a dad”.
Ian and I had a great day with my Dad, today. We had some Cohiba Red Dots that were stellar, and then Dad got Ian properly handling some pellet guns.
When I bring up guns Ian is all, “Oh no, I’m not ready for that.” But Granddad had Ian doing, and vowing to practice.
Ian probably has never seen me shoot for fun. My guns mostly come out to kill things, these days. Since O’bola, really. I’ve shot 50 rounds at a target since 2008 — with a real firearm.
This post isn’t about guns… sorry for the bs… but my Dad taught Ian more about guns today than I ever did. And my Dad made sure I was the one to teach it.
I can talk about rifles and pistols and guitars and engines and v belts, and minor chords and major pentatonics until everybody dies of boredom. I have not the teacher’s ability to section shit.
All I’m trying to say is, I love you, Dad.