Father, Fathering, and Fragility

As the son of a man who was diagnosed with cancer this week and the father of a boy who is 19 months old I find myself sandwiched in fragility.  For dad, this will be his second bout with cancer.  This time he is 20 years older and also fighting genetic heart problems that have caused 2 heart attacks in the last 6 months.  His faithfulness to a morning exercise routine may be a significant part of why he is still with us.

Even though Kai has transitioned from a baby to a little boy, he certainly is still so fragile.  Falling into the small pool we have in the back yard and tumbling backwards down cement steps are just a few of the "heart skipping a beat" moments that have occurred in recent weeks.  He is such a busy guy, the picture of both vibrant life and certain injury.

And here I sit between them, the two men who pull on my heart the strongest.  I can't help but feel their fragility thrust upon me.  Certainly it has always been there, but this week I am much more aware of it.  I was playfully tossing Kai on the bed when my wife came to talk to me about the news of my father's cancer.  I was aware of the edges of the bed, the angle of the toss as not to hurt Kai's neck, and the grip on my father that can't keep him from his edge, whenever and wherever that may be.  My love for them both makes me deeply yearn for a relationship between them that will stretch on for years to come.  But will they know one another much longer?  Will dad be around to see Kai grow up?

I can't help but feel the fragileness in me too.  I lay out my hope, my desire, my longing before my heavenly father and am so aware of my own powerlessness, so afraid to be too real with my longings.  If I don't guard myself against the depth of my desire for more years, more relationship, am I leaving myself open to complete undoing and the undoing of my faith?  It feels like familiar territory.  The depths of my wife and my desire to conceive children feels similar and though we have been pleading  for our heavenly father to intervene our cry has gone unanswered.  Kai is so fully our delight, but that can not remove the pain of  barrenness or the tenderness of hope so long differed.  Hope and longing are so fragile in me.

I know the answers that a heady, secure, stable faith offers.  "God works it all out for your good."  "Do not be afraid."  "He will never leave or forsake you."  I believe those things are all true, though I defiantly resist them if they stand alone.  They are not the complete story.  It is also true that the story holds, "My God!  Why have you forsaken me?"  "Walk with me through the valley of the shadow of death."  "Where are you?  I'm surrounded and the forces that oppose me are having there way with me!"  It is all there together.  I find myself sandwiched here too.  Some days that sandwich feels like a vice squeezing me without mercy.  Other days it feels like being enfolded in the arms of a father who sees my sorrow and holds me near.  And there I live, fragilely in the midst of hope and dispair, strength and fear, resilience and concession.... my dad and my son.

Neighbor Love & Self Love

Had a conversation today that stuck with me.  Part of the reason it stuck was because of the convergence with a few books I have been reading.  In Henri Nouwen's book Spiritual Formation he offers a model of life with priority for solitude, then community, then ministry.  Shane Claiborne and Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove's book Becoming the Answer to Our Prayers also talks about the need for prayer and community as necessary to engaging the needs of the marginalized.  The conversation today included a reference to Jesus' summary of "all the law and prophets," Love the Lord with everything you are: heart, soul, mind and strength.  Secondly, but not separate from the first one, love your neighbor as yourself.  As if we can avoid loving others as we love ourselves.  We can't.  The framework for love we adopt for ourselves, like it or not is THE framework we have for love.  Highly self critical = highly critical of others, shame yourself = shame for others, grace for yourself = grace for others.

I won't deny the appeal of believing my framework for others is really different than my framework for myself.  I'd like to think I have tighter control on the rigidness with which I evaluate myself.  But honestly that rigidness is splattered all over the way I think about and see others.  I can't even spare the ones I love most.  I don't want to give the same "pep talks," I give myself to my wife or son.  Which leads me to an anecdote that makes me smile.  Yesterday Kai and I were getting ready to leave and I couldn't find my keys.  Under my breath I said, "Come on Andrew."  At 19 months old, Kai is a little parrot and wasn't far enough away to miss my mumbled exasperation.  "Come on Andrew," was really quite cute coming out of his mouth... even if it was repeated 20+ times on the way to meet Mel at her office.  At the time I was impressed that he had made the connection between Andrew and daddy.  In light of today's reflections I see it quite differently.  Yesterday's incident was really quite lighthearted, but the implications for the future are a bit more weighty.  Even if he is not there yet, it won't be long before he is perceptive enough to know that when he can't find his jacket or his shoes that I will be thinking "Come on Kai," and he may in fact have learned to say that to himself.  Disgust and shame are too heavy in that tone for me to wish him to carry it.... now or later.  How can I help but to love him only as I love myself?

Though this seems a simple example it holds something much bigger in scope and points to a beginning point which I must give my full attention.  If I want to love well, whether that be those dearest to me or a person I meet on the street, I must attend to loving myself.  I have a few ideas about how I can do that, but honestly I am not devoting the priority to it that I believe it deserves.  The practice of solitude and prayer in which I know all the more deeply who I am and whose I am seems like the foundation here.  Sure, getting proper sleep and exercise and keeping margin in my life are all there too, but it must begin with the attention to the voice of the one who calls me beloved.  That is where I find my true identity and the affirmation I need to love and be more gracious with me..... and eventually my neighbor too.