Daily Devotional

Campus family, I sincerely hope you’ve had the joy of meeting my two children, Lottie and Elliott. At the time of writing, Lottie is a vivacious two-and-a-half and Elliott is an adorable five months. I always heard people say “they grow up so fast!” and thought it hyperbolic. But when I think back on those two bright moments when I held my daughter and my son for the first time, it does, in some sense, feel like it was only yesterday.

I once heard someone remark that on a scale of 1 to 10, parenting is just a bunch of ones and tens. I can attest to that. The ones have certainly been there: there are many times where parenting is exhausting. Nights of interrupted sleep, tears and tantrums, constant demands on our time and attention, and a never-ending tornado of clothes, toys, and diapers—these all come with the terrain. But the “tens” more than make up for these hardships: seeing Elliott’s gigantic smile or his peaceful face when he sleeps in my arms; hearing Lottie’s exuberant “Daddy!” when I walk in the door or her quiet “I love you!” before bed. Best of all is watching Lauren’s joy, strength, grace, patience, and wisdom as she’s embraced her call to be a mother.

Fatherhood has been a profoundly spiritual experience as well. For example, when Scripture speaks of God as our “heavenly father,” it carries new weight for me. This hit home one night a few years ago, about a month after Lottie was first born.

Even as an infant, Lottie was extremely social and LOVED being around people. The unfortunate result is that baby Lottie had serious FOMO (fear of missing out) and would refuse to sleep, even when she was exhausted, because she didn’t want to be alone or not part of what’s going on. Getting Lottie to sleep was our first big hurdle in our parenting journey.

One evening, one-month-old Lottie was refusing to sleep, as usual. I was walking her around the perimeter of our studio apartment as she cried, trying to soothe her by singing hymns. Lottie was having none of it, pushing against me and wailing in her little tired voice. In that moment, I realized: what I am trying to do for Lottie is what God does for us. In his infinite wisdom, God knows our true needs, even if they aren’t what we want in that moment (just like Lottie needed sleep, even as she fought it). We may kick and scream and push against Him, but our Heavenly Father, always patient and kind, gently leads us in the way we should go, offering words of comfort and encouragement. My imperfect, human care and patience for Lottie in that moment was a window into the deeper, richer love that God has for us.

This is the same point that Jesus makes in Matthew 7. Just as an earthly father like me, sinner though he is, will not give his children a stone when they ask for bread, so also our Heavenly Father loves to care for and bless His children. The love of earthly fathers is a dim reflection of the glorious love of God for us. It’s why calling God “Our Father” in prayer is so profound.

That realization has made fatherhood even more of a blessing. Over the past few years, the realization that God is my Father and I am his beloved child is more real and more precious than ever. I pray that my love for my children would not only better mirror God’s patient, sacrificial love, but would also remind me that God shows that same love towards me.

"English Standard Version (ESV)
The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. ESV® Text Edition: 2016. Copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers."