By: Archie Wortham
“Ever asked why God chose you to be the father of your children?”
I ask dads this all the time. And without fail, I mostly get the same answer. No.
Books, events, people come into our lives. Books and people leave and come back on no set schedule, not always when we want them. Generally, on God’s time, when they are needed. It’s as Guthrie says in her book, Mostly what God Does, you’re in God’s hand. It’s a “God got me” moment. If you’ve been there, you know what I mean.
Early in life we learn, “if you touch fire, you will get burned.” We learn that mercy is important. However, dads fail to think they deserve mercy. Shakespeare tells us that mercy “is twice blest; it blesseth him that gives and him that takes.” As dads we learn like in the movie The Boys in the Boat we are never alone, “we are one.” We all want the same thing, to be the best we can. That’s God chose us to be the father of our children.
I began writing columns the day my dad died, All Saints Day, 1993. It’s challenging once our parents die. The challenge to continue to grow is wrapped up in two significant quotes I’ve grown to understand. One is an African proverb, “You are not really a man until your father dies.” Scott Simon whose tweets about his mother’s struggle led to his memoirs Unforgettable, and his comment that “We don’t fully grow up until we lose our parents.” Books are important.
Mostly what God Does is the last book I read in 2024. It helped crystalize many thoughts about my faith, friends, and family. As we rush into the New Year, it’s good to have a perspective. Guthrie’s book continued me down the path I’m still here until God is finished with me, looking for my true north as many dads do. Even into retirement.
Retirement wasn’t the event I expected. Men who have worked all their lives aren’t always prepared for that untimely construct of what do I do after having earned the opportunity to not work. In some cases, some men go into a shell and become silent. For some silence becomes depression that can have endings people we love shudder to think about. [See Kitiki #17]. Books can take the edge off, but events are the most telling. Establishing a linear relationship with God or sidebar with friends to help us realize “Who’s got you?”
That’s the brick wall many dads are afraid to share. What do my kids think? Am I good enough? Does God care? To them I say two things:
“Focus on what binds us.”
“Open your eyes, you’ll see God doesn’t move the goal post.”
God chose us to be the father of our children because God knew no one could raise them like we could. Whatever your concept of God is, the primordial fact is God knew we could do it. God knew we’d grow into being dads and there was no better choice. Accept that. I talk to men all the time who berate, belittle, and begrudge the fact they are not good enough. I listen. I’ve felt the same inadequacy. They are here like me, still trying for whatever reason to understand how not to screw up again. I tell them about their kids and try to help them realize not everyone loves the same way. Just because our kids don’t express their love to us the same way we do, doesn’t mean their love is invalid. As long as we have skin in the game, the game is not over. “If you stop improving your game, your game stops improving.” And dads don’t give up.
Dads are frothed with fear on not making a mistake. I remind them the goal post hasn’t moved. Every day our kids teach us a new skill by bringing a playbook we never heard of. We learn to navigate because our true north is keeping them in view, protecting and providing, and above all listening. Listening to them, friends, family, and our faith. We are where we are supposed to be and whether it’s an epiphany in the theater, a book someone shared, or an insight from another dad who tells you. “Been there. Done that. Tell me your story.”
That’s the key; the real key I’m offering. As long as you have someone you can ask, ask. When you feel you are alone, find someone. You are the dad because you were chosen. Don’t forget that. EVER! Mercy is twice blest because it involves giving and taking.
One of my regular Substack readers told me recently, “you got it right.” I’d told him how much his children loved him, but he, like many dads, was too deep into denial to see it. I’d listened to his stories. Felt his tears. I’d challenged his perspective and if by divine intervention his daughter affirmed him in a way he understood.
God chose us; to be the father of our children so dads can understand how it feels to be loved by God.
As you greet the New Year, trust the fact: God chose you to be father of your children because no one could do the job the way you could.