Can You Relate?

Sometimes I can’t help but sense God’s own pleasure when I look at my kids with great delight. Sometimes I feel a deep sense of gratitude for them just the way they are, autism and all. Sometimes I can’t help but worship Him for their unique complexities.

I love the way Ellie clenches her fists so tightly and pulls them up to her cheeks to self-regulate. I love the way Jack rehearses the routines for the day ahead and wants to hear the play-by-play on my end (in the correct order) when I pick him up from school. I love the way Lucy ends her prayers with “the end” instead of “amen”.

I love being a father. I’m blessed beyond measure because of it. There are moments when I I get it right.

And then there are moments that go a little something like this:

“I’M SO…… MAAAAAAD!!” Ellie shouted while running from room to room slamming doors. I followed her into the bedroom and in my calmest voice said, “Sorry honey, iPad time is all done.” Not satisfied with my response, she continued to run from one side of the house to the other slamming bedroom doors all while covering her ears and scripting from an episode of Daniel Tiger as she went. 

Any parent of a child with autism will tell you that managing outbursts and meltdowns is exhausting. It requires you to be fully present, patient, and calm to deal with it successfully. Fighting back your own irritation is half the battle.

As I continued to try to (calmly and patiently) diffuse the situation by helping Ellie go from The Hulk to Bruce Banner, Jack and Lucy decided it was the perfect moment to approach me with their own requests. “Daddy, popsicle please” said Jack. “Dad, come play with me” adds Lucy.

“Um, not right now guys, daddy is trying to help Ellie calm down.”

But what Lucy heard was, “Of course, sweetie. I’d love to play with you at this moment”, and Jack heard, “Yes, my son, whatever you want, I’m at your service.”

The outburst and door slamming continued. I followed Ellie to the other side of the house and we started doing some deep breathing and sensory compression to calm down. The other two came after me again…AGAIN!

“Dadeeeee”, says Lucy, “come plaaaay with mee”. “I just need one more treat,” adds Jack.

Now I’m annoyed. I can feel the stress and the tension coursing through my body. “No! Not yet. You have to wait!,” I responded. “Can’t you see Ellie is really struggling right now”? 

My sweet and not so innocent son and daughter could not sense the irritation in my response. Sooo they decided to test the waters again. Are they nuts?

Lucy, now also annoyed, yells, “Dadeee I neeed you”! Jack was present too, so he was guilty by association.

At this point, I had resolved to unleash my wrath and take a page from Ellie’s book and Hulk out on all my kids. “Lucy, I don’t want to play with you right now!! Out Out! Jack, you’ve already had like three popsicles! You don’t need another one! Get out!! Ellie, STOP SCREAMING!”, I say in my hypocritically loud tone.

Now I’m sure this type of exchange hits home with any parent. Our kids tend to conspire to gang up on us at the worst times. Nevertheless, I had failed my kids.

So yeah, there are those moments. I get it right sometimes, but boy do I get it wrong sometimes too.

A Means To An End

What I have found to be so incredible is that God graciously meets me more in my failures as a father than in any other relationship. That makes perfect sense, though. After all, God is our Heavenly Father, and because He is a father, perhaps he instituted parenthood as the biggest signpost to point us back to His loving arms.

His love never fails like ours, so when we face plant hard, we can find mercy and grace beyond comprehension. Not only does He cover our parent-fails, He gladly makes us wiser through them.

How we understand God as Father is vital to our Christian walk. Not that my understanding is deep; it’s really quite shallow. But God has been kind enough to deepen my understanding of Him through my role as an earthly father. How does He do this? I believe He does this not only explicitly through His Word but also implicitly by the nature in which we treat our kids.

We know explicitly from Scripture that God loves us. He’s told us and He’s demonstrated that love ultimately in Christ (Romans 5:8). Amen. But God also demonstrates His love for us through the relationships He gives us here right now. Being a father, or mother, is not an end in itself, but a means to an end…that end being to glorify God.

I admit, I don’t always see God the Father the way I ought. I tend to see my relationship with my kids as an end to itself. It becomes all about me and I begin to think I can do a better job as a father than Him.

(pause here for your laughter).

But I think we can all admit that we’ve been tempted to believe this lie; that our relationships are self-contained and we know better than God. As parents, we so frequently miss the greatest signpost that points back to Him. We all tend to wonder things about God that couldn’t be further from the truth. Here’s what I am getting at:

We delight in our kids but wonder if God delights in us.

We forgive our kids but wonder if God could forgive us.

We discipline our kids but think God won’t discipline or correct us.

We direct and lead our kids but wonder if God has left us to ourselves.

We give our kids affection but wonder if God is cold and closed off toward us.

We teach and instruct our kids but wonder if God has spoken clearly in His Word to us.

We invite our kids to come near so we can embrace them but wonder if we can approach God in the same way.

We go to bat for our kids but we wonder if God is on the sidelines.

We give our kids 2nd and 3rd chances but wonder if God has washed His hands of us.

We meet the needs of our kids but wonder if we can trust God to take care of us.

We continue to give grace to our kids but wonder if God’s grace has dried up.

We stop at nothing to protect our kids but wonder if God will protect us.

Parents are hardwired to do these things. Nobody really has to tell us that we ought to act in these ways toward our kids. From the moment of their birth, our deepest affections have been set toward them.

So how is it that we can so easily doubt the love of our Heavenly Father when we would never doubt the love we have for our own kids?

Seeing the (Perfect) Father

Here is the challenge to myself and to you reading this: The next time you begin to doubt God’s love for you or the next time you are tempted to think He’s far off or has abandoned you, try this: Go hug your kids. Go wrestle with them. Go to the park with them. Go out for ice cream. Go do whatever brings you and them joy together. And as deep levels of affection, happiness, and pleasure well up inside of you during those moments, remember that those feelings are but a shadow of the love and affection your Heavenly Father has for you. Remember this truth from Scripture…We love because He first loved us (1 John 4:19). Remember that His love is the precondition for the parental love we have for our kids.

You cannot love better than Him. You cannot give grace better than Him. You cannot forgive better than Him. You cannot protect better than Him.

But I think that’s the point. We can’t do parenthood perfectly, or even well enough at times, so we must run to our Heavenly Father who is perfect. Both our failures and our successes as parents should drive us to Him. And we can do so happily and without shame.

The First Time I got it Right

One thing about Facebook that I do appreciate is that I am able to go back years and see things I’ve posted (for better or worse). Here is what I wrote a couple days after Jack and Ellie were born:

When I look at my son and daughter, I am utterly amazed and completely humbled by God’s insane love for us. God’s word says that we are made in His image, that He is our Father, and that we are His children known intimately before the foundation of the world. I am in awestruck wonder that this incredible love that I feel pales in comparison to the infinite love that God our Father has for us.

April 17, 2016

On that day, I got it right. It was the first time I saw my imperfect fatherly love in light of the Heavenly Father’s perfect love. And it was beautiful.