On Being a Father

I first became a father at the age of 28. I remember the experience very well. While my son was being born on one floor of the hospital, I was trying to pass a kidney stone on another floor. After he was born, the hospital was gracious enough to wheel me up or down to his floor. I was allowed to see him and his mother at what hospital staff deemed a safe distance. Because I was a patient, they would not risk me getting close enough to give either of them a kidney stone.

I recall the distinct feeling of disappointment when I first saw Stacy. He was the first newborn I had ever seen. He was probably less than half an hour old and not totally cleaned up from the birthing experience. He didn’t look cute at all. Thankfully, the next time I saw him, he had morphed into the most beautiful baby I had ever seen. He is still a pretty handsome guy.

When Stacy was just two years old, his mom divorced me. Soon after the divorce, his mom moved to another part of the state. With about a three hour drive – each way – between us, a lifelong strain on our relationship was created. Most of the visits for the first couple of years were pretty short and fairly infrequent. What do you do with a two or three year old for a few hours?

In 1979, I became father to two more awesome kids. In November of that year I married Kathy. She had Steve and Kris, her two children by her first marriage. Their dad had died in an accident on the mission field in Brazil in 1973. As we planned our marriage, we also set in motion the legal process whereby I would adopt these two kids. That was official on December, 7th of that year.

I had had a close friendship with Kathy and her children for a couple of years before we became family. The kids were ripe for a dad and I was glad to be theirs. It didn’t take long before they were comfortable calling me “Dad” instead of Dane. And today, almost 30 years later, I can’t imagine feeling any closer to Steve and Kris if they were my natural children. We are family. And the bonds of family are relational bonds of love rather than mere genetic bonds.

So far, I have introduced three kids who know me as Dad. I have one more. Kathy and I had our son, Adam, in 1981. I affectionately refer to him as the caboose of our family. Between the time when Stacy was born and when Adam was born, a lot of changes had taken place in the medical world, especially regarding birthing. In the 80’s, Dad’s were encouraged to be in the actual labor room to participate in the birth process. I remember Dr. Sholl receiving our little boy from the womb, handing him to a nurse who cleaned him up, wrapped him up, and handed him to me! Wow! What a wonderful, indescribable, joyful experience!

Being a Dad is not easy. I can remember feeling the weight of responsibility to provide for my family. I also remember feeling like there wasn’t enough of me to go around to fill the various roles of my life as a minister and a family man. My kids have at times wanted me to provide them more and better stuff than I did. I, at times, wanted to provide them with more and better stuff than I did. I was far from perfect as a dad, but I made an earnest effort to provide my children an active, involved, caring dad. Kathy and I worked together to give them a reasonably wholesome, stable home life. And we have released our children to be their own persons. They are each in our daily prayers.

Regrets? Sure. I wish I had spent more one-on-one time with each of my children. I wish I had handled challenges to my authority more graciously. I wish I had been able to figure out how to further reduce the losses divorce brought to me, to Stacy, and to our relationship.

In spite of the presence of these regrets, I am thankful for the love of three sons, one daughter, five granddaughters, and two grandsons. Being a father is one obvious aspect of the grace of God in my life. Not only has this blessed me, it has served to mature me. Scripture affirms that children are “a reward from [the Lord]” and grandchildren “are a crown to [their grandparents]" (PS 127:3; PR 17:6). Amen!