I Don't Like Being a Dad

“I don’t like being a dad.” I’ve confessed many things to my wife in our fourteen years together, but that was probably the hardest.

At the time, we had two children under four years old, and I could see every single day that God crafted my wife for the calling of motherhood. Everyday, she gave everything she had with a smile. She found joy in the little moments. She laughed with the kids and played with them every chance she got. Even in the sleeplessness and exhaustion, she found so much joy in being a mother.

For me, it took all the mental strength I had to engage with my kids on any level. I really tried, but often I found myself sitting next to them, staring at the clock, and wishing for bedtime.

I watched other fathers play with their kids, jealous of how their excitement and joy grew as they spent more time with their kids. I became more and more frustrated with older parents and grandparents who would tell me that I was going to miss these days.

The ironic part is that I actually wanted kids. My wife and I discussed it all the time, and I remember crying tears of joy when I found out she was expecting. I was so excited to become a dad! But almost four years in, the one thought I kept circling back to was, “This wasn’t how I thought fatherhood would be.”

My wife would catch me on my phone and, with a forced smile, she would say, “Hey you’re missing this.” Begrudgingly, I would set my phone down and pull myself back to my kids. It was brutal, and I began to resent my choices in life.

There were other contributing factors. I was working full time, and I had just started grad school when we were surprised by our second child on the way, but I always felt like I could handle work and school. It was being a dad that drained me.

So you can see why I dreaded telling my wife how I felt, but when I finally admitted it to her, she seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and said, “I know. I can tell, but it’s okay.”

The Root of the Problem

By now you probably realize, like I eventually did, that the problem wasn’t my children. The problem was my own heart. However, I don’t want to sanitize this discussion. That conversation with my wife took place four years ago, and while I have learned to have joy in fatherhood, I still feel very similar to how I did back then. But that’s the root of the problem: focusing on how I feel.

When I was in college, I read through the Bible and found myself obsessed with the book of Ezekiel. If you don’t know, Ezekiel is a prophet who experienced a vision of God directly and was appointed by God as a watchman over Israel. God commanded him to do many seemingly insane acts of obedience. (Seriously, go read the book!) The most outrageous thing God says is that it didn’t matter if Israel listened to his message or not.

How could God call someone to a seemingly fruitless ministry of constant self sacrifice? If you haven’t guessed it, that’s what he calls all of us to.

Fatherhood often feels fruitless. I work tremendously hard to engage with my kids. I want them to have a dad that cares and that prioritizes them. And yet most of the time, it feels like my kids aren’t growing in the ways that matter. My wife and I strategize, read parenting books, talk with other parents, and take parenting classes at church, and often, it still feels fruitless.

Further, I feel entitled to a life filled with things I enjoy. But parenting is so often about self-sacrifice. My kids need my attention. My kids need my affection. My kids need my affirmation. God knew that when he designed our family. So I don’t get to avoid my responsibilities as their father.

A Mindset Change

Over the past four years, God has shown me many things that need to change in how I view fatherhood. Here are the top 3:

1. The mission outweighs my selfishness.

God loved Ezekiel, but instead of making his life easier, God entrusted Ezekiel with an impossible mission, one that would require him to abandon any form of selfishness. Why? Because Israel knowing that God hadn’t abandoned them was a holy calling that went far beyond Ezekiel’s comfort.

Over the past four years, God has exposed more and more of my selfishness. That process has been painful, but it’s been very good for my growth as a believer.

2. Being unqualified doesn’t mean I can’t do the job.

Why did God stick my kids with a parent who clearly wasn’t good at it? Why couldn’t I love being a dad? Wouldn’t that be better for my kids? Truthfully, those questions don’t matter. God did choose to make me a father. The Bible is filled with men and women who were shocked that God chose them for his plan.

Rarely were they qualified from their own perspective. But that’s how God works. This is the same God that had Elijah dump gallons of water all over a stack of wood before he rained fire from Heaven to consume it. It isn’t my place to question why God put me here. Instead, it’s my job to lean on his power and wisdom to do what I have been called to do.

3. There are moments of joy to be found.

For years, I read books or told stories to my son at bedtime. It was not something I was good at, but it was something I did to be a good dad regardless of how I felt. Eventually, I realized that his brain would open up at night and that he wanted to discuss everything he could think of. This was hard on me because I was exhausted. Thankfully, I was encouraged at church to lean into those moments.

Last year, I decided to read Little Pilgrim’s Progress with him. If you don’t know, it’s a fantasy story that’s actually an allegory about the Christian life. As I read, I would stop and explain many of the allegorical elements. To my surprise, God used this book in my son’s life. After we read one night, he thought about the story of the little boy in the book and realized that he too needed to be freed of his burden, and on his own, asked Jesus to save him from his sins. Even though I struggled through years of reading at bedtime, God used my obedience as part of his redemptive plan for my son. It was a moment of joy that will stick with me forever.

The truth is, I still find many aspects of parenting very difficult. But I’ve learned over and over that investing myself in the lives of my kids is a calling that is worthy of my time and my energy. I sometimes still wish that playing with my kids would invigorate me, and I have to remind myself that God sees my faithful obedience in the hard times and that when I meet him face to face, it will all be worth it.

Regardless of “results”, every moment I invest into my children will be worth it because it’s a moment that I am on mission with my Savior.