Kids have
an uncanny way of catching parents unprepared, don’t they? While our family was in the car (on the
way to church no less) my youngest son asked the open-ended question, “Dad, has
anyone in our family ever been in real trouble?”
I have no
idea what inspired his question or what he meant by “real trouble.” In a matter of milliseconds I was in
full internal dialog conflict.
I’ve already had the discussion about my wild and wooly youth with my
eldest son, on my own terms, when he first became a teenager. I want all the boys to learn from my
successes as well as failures, but I didn’t plan to introduce certain parts of
my history until I deemed each was mature enough to understand. With the question I found myself put on
the spot by my “baby” – the child with the unflappable memory.
First
thought – deflect the question.
Surely we didn’t have time to get into the details right before church.
Second
thought – lie now and ask for forgiveness later when I set the record
straight. After all, how would I
be helping my boy by exposing him now to the truth of his father’s fallibility?
Third
thought - tell the truth. Heavy
sigh...
Thankful
for the influence of the “still small voice” of the Holy Spirit, I resisted the
temptation to try to rewrite my history.
In the end, there was more at stake than my pride. Instead of adding a new failure to a
past failure, I shared that yes someone had found trouble, and that someone was me. After my son’s shocked look that pierced
my heart momentarily, I explained that I had made some poor decisions as a
young man, letting my immaturity and anger get the best of me - and I paid the
price. As quickly as the question
came, the answer satisfied the random curiosity of the inquiry.
Fatherhood
Challenge: Dare
to tell the truth. I realize there
are definitely times when it would be inappropriate to share all the adult
details of life, even if directly asked by our children. However, risking a wound to my ego and
being challenged to follow-up the truthful answer with a teachable moment later
on, when the time is right, was the better choice.