When my husband was in the throes of medical training, his presence in our home was rather inconsistent. Late nights on call, early morning rounds, babies delivered at unpredictable hours and intense studying in between made it difficult for Rob to enjoy regular doses of leisure time with the kids. However, when he was present at home, my husband was an amazing and attentive father. Sometimes it seemed that more laughter and love was exchanged in the kids’ brief interludes with their Dad than in an entire day with their frazzled and overwhelmed mom.
Luke, in particular, took great joy in the loud silly play that his daddy instigated. However, during those years of hit and miss connections, I began to notice a pattern. When Luke spent time with his father, my little boy seemed rooted. He displayed more patience, teach–ability, and joy. Conversely, on the days when Rob was unavailable, my firstborn waffled between sulkiness and stubbornness. He became irritable, irrational, and argumentative.
One spring my husband’s medical rotations took him far away from home for eight weeks on end. The remote location of the hospital where he’d been placed made phone contact unpredictable and face to face visits difficult. Too young to understand the logistics of our situation, then-four-year-old Luke suffered sorely from daddy deficit. As days turned to weeks, my little boy’s mood soured. His anger teemed. His words cut. My preschooler’s growing defiance battered my confidence. I wondered how I would survive another month without a mate.
One evening after I’d settled the kids into bed, I sank onto the couch too tired to cry. I’d spent my last drop of energy explaining to my insolent son why he couldn’t sleep with Charlie, the goldfish and had used my last dose of patience calming a tearful toddler who wanted her daddy’s kiss goodnight. “I could use a little help,” I pleaded, reciting my laundry list of complaints to Holy ears.
“You could use a little more of Me,” responded my Heavenly Father. Though my evenings alone had been free of distractions, I hadn’t once used the time to linger in my Father’s presence. Instead, I’d filled the lonely hours with intriguing novels, laugh–out–loud T.V. shows and late night phone calls to friends. I had filled my time, but not my soul.
“You’re no different from your little boy,” God whispered, as He crashed my private pity party. “You need Daddy time, too.”
That spring years ago, I learned a lesson I’ve never forgotten. Using my own temperamental child, God painted a vivid picture. My son’s thorny temperament was a humbling snapshot of my own parched and weary heart. Disconnected from his father, Luke lacked the joy Rob spilled, the guidance he gave, and the security he offered. Though the physical distance between the two hadn’t changed Luke’s identity, without time in his father’s presence my son was unable to enjoy the benefits of being Rob’s child. The boy that emerged when his daddy was gone was one with a cutting and crabby edge and a restless spirit. Likewise, when I choose to forgo time alone with the Lord, I, sacrifice many benefits of being His daughter. Without Daddy time, I lack the joy my Heavenly Father spills, the guidance He gives, and the security He offers.
As I prepare for the welcome transition of summer, I am well aware that the most difficult part of having five kids under my roof all day long is my own tendency to relinquish my Daddy time. Stretched between the delights and demands of a handful of children, I can quickly develop a mommy persona that spoils the summer fun. However, this morning I wrote in my journal: THE CHOICE IS MINE. Though my children may sometimes live with the reality of an unavailable father, I do not. My Heavenly Father is never out of town, out of time, or out of energy. I can choose to connect with Him at any time, in any place and in any way. This summer I can CHOOSE to carve out time with the One who fills my soul and enjoy the immeasurable benefits of being His child. Or I can CHOOSE not to. But if I choose the latter, my soul may resemble the usual state of my lawn by August’s end: parched and dry, brittle and brown. I think I’d rather go for green and growing!
The Overflow: “He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters…” -Psalm 23:2
As I prepare for the welcome transition of summer, I am well aware that the most difficult part of having five kids under my roof all day long is my own tendency to relinquish my Daddy time. Stretched between the delights and demands of a handful of children, I can quickly develop a mommy persona that spoils the summer fun. However, this morning I wrote in my journal: THE CHOICE IS MINE. Though my children may sometimes live with the reality of an unavailable father, I do not. My Heavenly Father is never out of town, out of time, or out of energy. I can choose to connect with Him at any time, in any place and in any way. This summer I can CHOOSE to carve out time with the One who fills my soul and enjoy the immeasurable benefits of being His child. Or I can CHOOSE not to. But if I choose the latter, my soul may resemble the usual state of my lawn by August’s end: parched and dry, brittle and brown. I think I’d rather go for green and growing!
Totally perfect, practical illustration. Thanks for sharing and reminding!!!
~Robin