If I Didn't Have Kids

Meeting baby Sam

 About two weeks ago, my wife and I welcomed our 4th child. We've got three boys and a girl now, and Samuel has been taking to his new circumstances quite well. His brothers and sister have been admirably attentive as well, asking to hold him and look in on him, and picking up some slack around the house while Mom is recovering. 

When I shared with my coworkers in the elementary school I work in that we were expecting our 4th child way back in the fall, I eventually realized that there were several possible reactions:

1) Congratulations!

2) I don't know how you do it. I could never have four kids, let alone one.

3) Are you going to have more? 

Henry and Lydia in matching shirts

Our school's social committee threw a shower for me and another coworker, which created all kinds of opportunity for these responses. Four children, among the staff who work in my building, is a mark no one else has attained. For those who do have kids, unless I'm mistaken, the high-water mark is three. Large families are just not common among my workplace peers. The current tendency is toward no kids. 

I don't resent anyone for their reactions. But having kids has changed me in all kinds of ways. I've been doing some thinking lately about the kind of person I'd be if I didn't have any children. A quick rundown:

• If I didn't have kids, it's likely I would be a lot better at the sports I love playing, like volleyball and basketball. I'm not an old man yet, but when I was a younger man, I was much more of a force to be reckoned with in these areas. There's just not time for the kind of playing time I'd need in order to be as good as I used to be. Although I do still enjoy (and have hollowed out time for) playing volleyball weekly, my skills are just not what they formerly were. 
• If I didn't have kids, more of my time would be devoted to individual pursuits, like sorting through shelves of used books at thrift stores, playing video games, and even perhaps hosting board game nights. Now that I have kids, the amount of time, money, and attention I spend on any of these old hobbies of mine is quite nominal. The newest video game I've played is a PC game released in 2012. None of the phone games I played in the past are even installed on my phone any longer. I can't spend all Saturday playing Age of Empires or Super Smash Bros (and yes, I'm aware that most of the kids these days don't know the games I just referred to). 
• If I didn't have kids, my wife and I would enjoy a much higher standard of living. Overseas travel, fine dining, regular dates to the movie theater, more expensive restaurants and places. I've never cared too much about my apparel, but I could spend a lot more money on my appearance than I do, and I know for sure that my wife could. Our priorities are simply not devoted to this arena at this time. 
• If I didn't have kids, I could go on adventures like the ones I used to, climbing into abandoned buildings through open second stories, running away from security, biking through woods at night simply to get out of the house and escape my oppressive thoughts.

But I do have kids. They're with me all the time when I'm at home, due to their ages (6, 4, 2, newborn). 

Amos chauffeuring Lydia

And here's the thing. Although they are quite invasive, messy, ungrateful, and selfish, they have caused me to undergo changes. When faced with the reality that my children are looking to me to teach, shape, guide, and preserve them, I am forced to step up. I am so immensely grateful for the growth that has occurred in me because I am a father.

A quick rundown:

• Because I have kids, I have developed bedtime routines unique to each child (solid, hug, kiss, beard rub, fist bump, little piggies, prayer, and "twinkle" are involved. We'll see what Sam ends up requesting in about two years). 
• Because I have kids, I finally forced myself to continue work on a backyard house/structure on the platform my brother-in-law made for us. The kids have three walls, windows, and a roof on top of the elevated decking.
• Because I have kids, I know how to cook many more meals than I would ever have otherwise. My wife does a majority of the cooking and cleaning, but I have become pretty accomplished at these things. She needs breaks, and I am so much more competent than I used to be (you should come over and try my skillet lasagna or blueberry pie).
• Because I have kids, I have realized that no matter how much I want an outcome, no matter how perfectly I implement a training regimen with my children, the results are out of my hands. I cannot control the universe. I am glad that I know this. I have to rely on prayer and release the outcomes to Someone who really can run things. 
• Because I have kids, my vacations are centered around them. We have gone to the Ozarks, Arkansas, the Smoky Mountains, the Rocky Mountains, Ocean City New Jersey--and I am not able to partake in these places as I would if I didn't have children. But it is so lovely to see their reactions and know that their memories will include me. 
• Because I have kids, I see more clearly than ever just how broken I am. My weakness and inadequacy is on full display every day, in my anger, laziness, impatience. I would not see how much I need a Savior if I did not have "all these kids."
  
  
  Each one reveals my need in ways similar and different to their siblings. In Amos' seeming inability to be alone or to be quiet, in Henry's bewildering wildness, in Lydia's emotional pleading, in Samuel's indifference to me, I encounter my own sinfulness. I am not anywhere close to a perfect or great father, and that reality is revealed every day. 

But I am better. Song lyrics often come into my mind when I'm considering life. Two different lines are apt here. The first is from a song called "Eulogy," by Jon Foreman:

Every day I write the eulogy
For everything I used to be
I'm still aiming for a better me
I am the mosaic of a shattered man
Broken and becoming, broken and becoming who I am

I am being re-formed and re-made each day as I commit to relying on grace. I name my faults. I look into my own depths, and although I am always disappointed in myself, I see a substitutionary strength in me that I don't deserve but always have access to. 

I am such a fuller person because I am a father. I'm convinced that there are aspects of my character that would never have been developed had I not had children. In fact, I believe that each child we bring into our family develops me, my wife, and my other children in integral ways. I've told a few people recently this thought, which is that every youngest child needs not to be the youngest. Humans are inherently selfish, and adults and children alike need to know that they are not the most important person in the world, that others are equal in worth, and that there is such value in sacrificing a personal desire for the purpose of serving another person. 

You may know that I am the seventh of eight children, and that my mother homeschooled all of us while my father worked, first as a technical writer, then as a pastor of the small church I still attend. The older I get, the more children of my own that I have, I find myself wondering how they did it. I always felt such love and stability from my parents. I knew they'd be there, they loved me, and that they expected a lot because they had confidence in me. Ultimately, they were returning daily to a foundation built on Jesus. They saw their own need and it humbled them, while simultaneously enabling them to be incredibly strong and faithful. 

Enjoying time with baby Sam

It seems clear to me that the reason all of my siblings and I who've been married 8+ years have 4+ kids is that we know it can be done, and we see the value in having large families. Everyone had a place, a role, but no one was elevated or relegated. 

The other song lyric that's been returning to me lately is from Andrew Peterson's song, "Family Man." 

"Because love binds up what breaks in two

So keep my heart so close to you

And I'll fill you up with love, fill you up with love

And I'll help you stand 'cause I am a family man

I'm saving my vacation time for Disneyland

This is not what I was headed for when I began

This was not my plan, it's so much better than"

 

Proud oldest brother

The truth is, I had no idea how wonderful, painful, humbling and  life-changing having children could be. It is so much better than I realized. And yes, of course it is also much harder. But nothing good is easy. I look forward to the future because I have trust that I am loved and held by One much greater than I. My life would be so much smaller if I wasn't a father.