Good Parenting

To act or not to act.  To speak or not to speak.  To intervene or not to intervene.  It seems that these are the thoughts that consume the mind of a parent every day.

It is said that parenting is the toughest job in the world, and I would think that most parents who are engaged in the lives of their children would agree.  For although we get plenty of advice from others and we instinctively draw our own parenting styles from those who have raised us, at the end of the day, when we are face to face with our own children, there simply isn’t a blueprint.

It is during these times of indecision that we realize that we are left with only our thoughts.  We are left with our feelings.  We are left with the experiences that have made us who we are up until this point in our lives.  Lives filled with both good times and times that still yearn for the healing touch of mercy and grace.

Yet most of all, these times bring to the surface things within us that we may have never seen before.  I have found that the role of being a parent is never stagnated in nature; physically, emotionally, or spiritually, because in many ways parenting is the mirror that provides a constant reflection into the state of one’s heart.

For me personally, the indecision of whether I should speak or be silent, punish or let things go, or step in to help my children or allow them to figure it out themselves sparks an idol within me that has always been there but has only come to the surface since becoming a parent.  It is the idol of “goodness”.  Or maybe simply put, my desire to be “good” in the eyes of others.  And it wasn’t until I became a parent that I have come to see just how much this misplaced desire had stifled my life.

I think we all want to be “good”.  But what exactly does that mean?  What does that entail?  Especially when it comes to being a parent.  What does a “good” parent do?

As he was setting out on a journey, a man ran up, knelt down before him, and asked him, “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus answered him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.

–Mk 10:17-18

Although this idol always became visible when my children acted out, it was within the day to day experiences that it finally showed its face for me to see.  The day to day experiences of watching my boys grow into new phases of life.  Phases of naturally testing boundaries.  And phases where they struggle in a healthy way between depending on us as parents yet desiring to discover who they are for themselves.  And it was through this natural tension of my children needing me yet at the same time growing within their independence that the control I thought I had over them got exposed.  And it is was then that I could see just how much I needed them to fulfill me.  Especially my desire of being a “good” parent.  This was the hard truth that helped me get refocused off of me and onto them.

I remember when my son Jack first began going to nursery school.  I remember the fear that was in him every morning not wanting me to leave his sight when I dropped him off.  So much so, he spent his first day hiding underneath a table.  But what I remember most wasn’t so much his fear, but the fear that resided in me during those weeks and months.  I remember not being able to sleep the night before he would have school, knowing that he would cry and not want to let go of my leg the next morning.  These days always left questioning how I could do this to my son and allow him to go through this.  Yet nestled within this great fear for him, was my fear of not being a “good” parent.

Last week I watched this same Jack ski down the Alps on a Friday and play in a soccer tournament on Saturday where he was the only English speaking child in the tournament.  What a moment for him.  And yet when I watched him, I couldn’t help but think about those days dropping him off at school in tears, both his and mine.  And it was within this moment that I realized that he never needed me to be “good”, he needs me to be present.

Present to him and to whatever needs he might have on that given day.  Even the days when he doesn’t need me.  Knowing that I will be there when he comes home from being on his own is all that he truly desires.

Parenting is hard.  Parenting is exhausting.  Parenting is frightening.  We all are doing our best with who we are today.  And yet, parenting can also help us see a larger truth about ourselves, our kids, and our relationship with God because it can expose our hearts in ways that few other roles can do.  And for that, I am grateful.  For it has been through this role of fatherhood that I have experienced the grace of seeing things within me that need to be exposed…exposed so that they may be converted.

Converted from the selfish misplaced desires of being “good” to the life-giving freedom of trying to love my sons, Jack and Andrew, as God has loved me. (Jn 13:34)

In families, there are difficulties. In families, we argue; in families, sometimes the plates fly; in families, the children give us headaches. And I’m not even going to mention the mother-in-law. But in families, there is always, always, the cross. Always. Because the love of God, of the Son of God, also opened for us this path. But, in families as well, after the cross, there is the resurrection. Because the Son of God opened for us this path. Because of this, the family is — forgive the term I’ll use — it is a factory of hope, of hope of life and of resurrection. God was the one who opened this path… In families, there are difficulties, but these difficulties are overcome with love. Hate doesn’t overcome any difficulty. Division of hearts doesn’t overcome any difficulty. Only love is capable of overcoming difficulties. Love is a festival. Love is joy. Love is to keep moving forward.”

–Pope Francis