Stories of Grace

Keeping my daughter out of trouble just got a lot tougher. This week she started getting up on her knees to crawl around. Soon she will be moving faster than ever and grabbing things that were previously out of reach.

She’s also started pushing herself up into a sitting position all by herself.

But the scariest news in the short term is that she learned to open drawers by herself. She slides them open and closed all the time. She hasn’t tried to grab anything in them yet, but it’s just a matter of time.

She’s too cute.

It’s wonderful watching my daughter move around the house. She believes there’s nothing she can’t do if she tries hard enough. She can reach something if she stretches a little further. She can get what she wants if she smiles a little bigger.

She never appears to think that she can’t do something.

The other day she heard my wife moving around on the other side of the house, and I saw the gears in her head begin moving. I wonder what mom’s doing? I wonder if I can help. I think I’m going to find out. And of she went, dragging her body across the floor with her hands and arms. She stopped a few times to let out a frustrated yell, but then she started right back on her journey. She nearly made it across the house when my wife came out the room she was in and found her and picked her up. My daughter was so happy.

Another dream fulfilled. There’s nothing she can’t do.

Brooks and Dunn have a new song out, Proud of the House We Built. I heard it for the first time the other day and couldn’t help but think of my family. We don’t have everything in the world. We don’t have all the money in the world. But we have each other, and that’s all we need.

Here’s the chorus of the song:

I’m proud of the house we built.
It’s stronger than sticks, stones, and steel.
It’s not a big place sittin’ up high on some hill.
A lot of things will come and go but love never will.
Oh, I’m proud.
I’m proud of the house we built.

While I’m at it, there’s another song that makes me think about how grateful I am to have what I have. It’s Montgomery Gentry’s Lucky Man. It’s so close to my life, I could have written the words myself. Lord knows I’m a lucky man.

Here’s the chorus to it:

But I know I’m a lucky man
God’s given me a pretty fair hand
Got a house and a piece of land
A few dollars in a coffee can
My old truck’s still running good
My ticker’s ticking like they say it should
I got supper in the oven, a good woman’s loving
And one more day to be my little kid’s dad
Lord knows I’m a lucky man

I think I’m experiencing something tonight that many fathers — maybe even many parents — feel a fear of the unknown. A realization of my limits. My own frailty and insecurity. My innate brokenness.

I can’t get one question out of my head — what if I screw up?

What if I screw up my daughter? It’s not like there’s a handbook to parenting, and if there was it’s not like I could remember it all. I’m basically making this stuff up as I go along. It’s amazing she’s still alive.

And this might be the easiest time of parenting. Right now everything she does is cute. What am I going to do when she starts back-talking me or doesn’t want anything to do with her father? I guess I’ll just wing that too.

Or worse, what if I do everything right with my daughter but screw up all the good stuff God put here for her? What if I leave the world in such bad shape that she can’t do what she’s called to do. There’s world has so many issues — AIDS, poverty, illiteracy, racism, oppression, etc. I can’t possibly solve them all. I probably can’t end of them. All I can hope to do is my part. Do what God is calling me to do.

Which is the only answer I can come to. I’m going to make mistakes. I’m going to screw up. But God’s bigger than my errors. He’s working in this world to bring good about, to reconcile people to Himself. I may not like that I’m going to screw up, but I’m comforted by the fact that God can work despite my weaknesses and limitations. I trust him with my future and the future of my daughter.

I’m on the tail end of my first Father’s Day. I have to admit, it struck me as a more meaningful holiday than I ever anticipated. I found myself thinking about how lucky I am to be a father and how wonderful my daughter and wife are.

I thought about how lucky I was to be raised with a father who loved me like he did. I couldn’t have been the easiest kid to put up with at times.

For some reason, the day seemed to move slowly. It didn’t drag on. Moments simply were easily cherishable — talking to my dad this morning, Grace falling asleep in my arms, my wife’s embrace, my daughter’s smile. I wish every day was like today. What a great day.

Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there. I hope your day was as good as mine.