The Happiness of Our Children
Tonight I was in the town center of Canela downing 1.5 liters of water, 1/2 liter of Gatorade, and the toy size Twix and Snickers found in SA. I had run out of water while hiking earlier and was sitting on a park bench trying rehydrate myself and regain some energy. While seated, I watched kids, parents, little old ladies, and couples stop to take pictures with a giant Santa Claus as well as in front of a fake Christmas tree with a doorway cut into the bottom to allow for picture posing. Next I walked toward the sound of a band in the plaza. Along with the percussionists and brass players, there were 10 young girls in Santa hats, velvet-like knee boots, and blue uniforms with white tops. As they danced in unison to the music, I enjoyed watching their smiles and the satisfaction they derived from the experience.
It made me thing further about something I had been noticing more over the last year. I know it’s nothing profound or new, but I find myself amazed at how the happiness (or lack thereof) of childhood influences the rest of life. I think about it especially regarding women as I see so many in Buenos Aires walk around with long faces and an almost tangible lack of self-worth or enduring joy.
Whether I see it in the positive of families making memories together or in the hurt of those without good parents, they make me want to be a good dad. If I have a daughter, I want her to feel protected, cared for, and indescribably valued. If I have a son, I want him to, despite my litany of imperfections, see a man after whom he can model himself. And I want my wife to know her children will never have to worry about being without dad.
As I learn photography, it gives me joy to imagine having visual memories of my wife and children. Perhaps they will be annoyed with me for porting around the tripod and extra lenses, but I want my kids to have pictures they can view 20 years later and laugh, cry, and recall years of joy with mom and dad.
It’s hard for me, as I grow out of my ignorance, to see all the evil and injustice in the world. The feeling can be paralyzing and cause me to feel insignificant. I think there is a direct relation between my understanding of the world and my desire to be a good dad. No matter what else happens, where I go, what others do, I can make the choice to be the best father possible. Regardless of the evil around us, my children can find refuge at home with my wife and me. We can give them the opportunity to see the joy and the beauty God has given us while also protecting them from the incessant onslaught of evil.
Growing up, Christian groups fighting to preserve the family seemed like idealists and dreamers to me. But now I see the imperative in their message. There is nothing more important than family. Nothing. It pains me to see how many Christians do not provide the family setting their children crave and need. Like never before, Joshua 24:15 resonates with me. “But as for me and my family, we will serve the Lord.”
I don’t have a desire to be a parent now. I’m not sure when it comes or if it comes after finding out one will be a father or mother. But what I do have is a desire to counter the growing thinking of “Who would want to bring a child into this world” by making my home a refuge and giving my children the best father possible. I thank my parents for giving this to me.
