Every once in a while someone will ask me, “so how is it different being a dad?” The question has almost become cliché. Though most people who ask it are well-intentioned, hearing it so often, often elicits bland responses from me. This is not because my son is not the most wonderful thing in the world, and the mere thought of him doesn’t tickle something deep within me, but…well familiarity breeds contempt.
Craig has this good friend Jason. I had the privilege of meeting with both Craig and Jason a few times before he made his newest permanent resident in Dallas. For whatever reason Jason is the kind of guy who you just want to answer meaningfully. Recently Jason, whom I don’t even really know that well, posed this question to me. I’ve been thinking about it since then and here is how I would now respond.
The one way in which I really feel the experience of being a father acutely is when a story like the one I just heard makes the news. Hannah Mack, a six year old from Navarro Hills was sexually assaulted and hung in her garage yesterday morning. My son Roy has given me a new way of hearing tragedies like these. They aren’t merely another story. Somehow, scenarios that share features of commonality to our stories strike a deeper chord within us.
My sister-in-law recently e-mailed extended family with the news that after her friends took their 9 month old daughter to the E.R. because she was repeatedly banging her head to suggest that it hurt, learned the worst…that she has a form of blood leukemia. If she survives these next couple months then she begins years of difficult treatment.
I feel an intense burden to pray for families with children in these scenarios. This has not always been the case. In the past I would offer a few sentiments of semi-authentic sympathy throw up a quick prayer and move on to the pleasures of life.
I find myself thinking and praying about this girl often. I guess it’s because if this were true of Roy I would want the whole world to be praying. There’s grace in the participation in others sufferings. I pray God continues to give me means of empathy as powerful as my son.
Grace in sympathy
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Your post here came to mind last night as I was holding Soren and he was crying because he's sick and couldn't sleep. I was near tears at his discomfort, feeling helpless to give him some reprieve, and I began to think about other children, like the ones you mention, and that I can't imagine the pain they are experiencing right now. I do think there is a new level of empathy that comes along with parenting. Well put Josh.
Post a Comment