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Under the microscope

May 31, 2009 — 3 Comments

when-christians-get-it-wrongI am grieved tonight over what is going on in our country. Our nation is fractured, perhaps as never before. Religious, political, and philosophical differences are stark. Although I agree that economic and psychological stressors are taking a significant toll on many people, I contend that the fundamental problem in our country is a spiritual one.

This morning, I removed myself from two Facebook causes which I truly believe in — all due to the hate and obscenities being expressed in the public forums. The sad thing is that many of those responsible for such boorish behavior claim to be Christians.

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As I returned home this evening from a late counseling session, those were the words I heard from my two-year-old daughter — who had been tucked into bed an hour earlier.

Of course, I couldn’t resist the urge to go in and tell her goodnight. She bounced gleefully in her bed, springing up to kiss me on the cheek.

There are many things I enjoy in life, but perhaps none so much as being a Dad. Now, don’t get me wrong. That doesn’t mean I necessarily enjoy the little clothes strewn all over the house. . . or the toys I invariably step on in the middle of the night. . . or the many hidden treasures that wait patiently to be discovered underneath the sofa cushions (and other very creative hiding places!).

But I absolutely LOVE being a Dad.

I hear so many parents complain about their children, practically wishing for a swift transition to adulthood. And I find that such a sad commentary on the state of the family. Sure, juggling kids’ homework and practice schedules and church activities is no walk in the park. It takes time, energy, and a great deal of commitment — not to mention patience.

One thing I know for sure: our attitude is a part of life we have the power to choose. I suppose I could focus on the noise, the mess, and the busyness that goes with being part of a family. I suppose I could focus on the sibling rivalry, the seemingly endless ow-ies, and the less-than-perfect housekeeping routine.

But in those times when I’m tempted to focus on such things, I remind myself that in a very short time, there will be no more little clothes. . . or noisy toys. . . or sofa surprises.

Yes, I fear that one day not too terribly far from now, I’ll rush in from a late appointment. . . and the delightful sound of “Daddy’s home!” will be only a distant memory.

I’m blessed beyond measure to have not just one but two jobs that I truly love. But the job I love the most is the one that requires the highest degree of commitment and provides the lowest amount of pay. Being a Dad is a full-time job — and a life-altering experience.

Every day.

I’m glad I’m home.