This is the third and final installment in the "Reflections on Fatherhood" series. Since becoming a dad myself, I have realized even more what a terrifying responsibility fatherhood is. Moreover, I gain new insights into the character of God--and why God chose to reveal himself as "Father"--on a daily basis. Here are a few musings to wrap things up.
1) My son is always checking to see if I see what he is doing. He is constantly jabbering away--seriously, I have no idea what that kid is talking about, ever--or playing or laughing or dancing, etc. However, in the midst of all his busyness he is constantly looking up to see if I am watching. Now, unlike God, I am not always watching. In fact, all too often my gaze is fixed on my iPad doing something that doesn't matter nearly as much as my son's childhood flying by before my very eyes. So, I am trying to be looking more. I am trying to make sure he knows that I see him, because I feel like God makes us feel seen and valued.
This whole scenario, though, reminds me how infrequently I care if God is seeing what I am doing. I act as though I want to live for God, but often times I have already made up my mind as to what God wants me to do and I just do that, never stopping to look up to see if God approves, or if he is actually at work in a totally different direction. I say that I care what God thinks about what I am doing with my life, but I am not looking up constantly to see if He sees.
2) My son also wants my stuff...all the time. He is only 9 months old, but the kid has a grip. I find myself continually underestimating the speed of his hands. One minute I will be holding him and we'll just be relaxing on the couch and the next thing I know he has my glasses in his mouth--slobber encasing the left lens--and I don't even remember him taking them off of my face. He lacks for nothing, has more toys than we can rotate through in a week, and yet, if given the choice, he would rather play with my Nalgene bottle, my cellphone (which, thankfully is waterproof so it can withstand the slobber), my glasses, my keys, even the buttons on my shirt. He gets so happy when he gets one of these items, and they hold his attention for way longer than anything else...except a ceiling fan, perhaps.
I was so convicted thinking about this today because I don't want my Father's stuff in the same way. I don't want his companionship, his grace, his wisdom, etc., I am too busy preoccupying myself with other people's stuff. It makes sense that God wouldn't want his people to covet. When all we are concerned with is what other people have that we don't, we miss out on our Father's stuff, which will keep us satisfied for a much longer period of time. I believe Jesus even more now, too, when he says that God loves to give good gifts to his children. I love being able to give good gifts to my son, things that he will enjoy. Which is why, at this moment, my son is drinking out of my Nalgene bottle.
3) I love my son more everyday. I have already mentioned this in a previous post, but I cannot stress this enough. I don't think about my love growing for him, it just happens. I think about God's love for us, and how it is maxed out and he couldn't love us any more (and he won't love us any less), and I simply cannot fathom--as Paul hope we would grasp--how high/wide/deep/etc. God's love for us truly is.
4) Along with the ever-increasing love I have for my son comes this growing fear of heartbreak. I know that I would be devastated if my son grew up to reject me, hate me, scorn everything I had done for him. How would i feel if he didn't want me as any part of his life? What if he never asked my advice on any decision he was making? What if we hardly ever spoke? The thought of it alone is enough to dash my soul to pieces.
And then I think about how God must feel when His children, created in his image from nothing, grow up and turn away from their true nature, their rightful inheritance, to follow something or someone lesser. I cannot imagine the ache in the heart of God. I begin to understand, though, why Jesus looked over Jerusalem and wept,
Yet, instead of being ruled by fear, I reflect on the way of Fatherhood. And, it seems to me, that the way that God approaches love is to do so extravagantly, preemptively, without any fear of rejection. As John wrote: "There is no fear in love, for perfect love casts out fear." (1John 4:18)
As this little series of reflections concludes, may we all love without fear, may we reflect on our Father (whether we are fathers ourselves or not), and may we portray an accurate picture of Him to the world around us.
