Righteous Anger

Anyone who tells you that parenting doesn’t involve the regular exposition of strong emotions, including anger, is lying.

The assault on our constitutional religious liberties by the current administration in Washington D.C. and the liberal media’s outright digital terrorism on the mind space of our youth to promote a licentious homosexual agenda, has me very, very angry.

Especially in a testosterone-heavy household like ours, expressions of aggression seem to be a normal part of life. So, I’ve been thinking about the use and appropriateness of anger, especially in the context of fathering. In a Christian home that is rooted in love and grace, where and when does anger have a place? Where and when should my anger work into the fathering plan?

Author John Oakes has some interesting thoughts on the subject. He writes, “It seems that righteous anger is directed toward people who willfully violate the rights and prerogatives of God or other people. Anger at those who commit acts of racial prejudice or those who scoff at God or who create division in the church is appropriate.“

“A parent’s anger at their children for blatant rebellion may be appropriate, but that depends on whether it is expressed in a righteous way. If such anger results in a desire to hurt or get revenge it is not righteous.”

In early adulthood I was in love with anger. In fact, I felt that anger was a gift. After all, my view (then) was that anger clarified life. Anger motivated me. I believed my anger was “controllable.” And selfishly, my anger was my own.  Most of my anger was rooted in strongly held assertions of life’s lack of “fairness” and was accompanied by robust payback fantasies.  Simply put, my anger was immature. Only later did I realize that I’d become a slave to my anger, especially the unrighteous and largely unexpressed anger held in my heart. Anger became a barrier to positive action versus a catalyst to change. I look around at our culture today and I see too much of that.

So what do I tell my kids about my own anger, and what should I show them? It’s a gross oversimplification, but I believe a good place to start is with three C’s: Consideration. Communication. Consistency.

• First, I really need to do some thinking about what has me so angry. Are the reasons righteous? If so, what purpose does my anger serve, if any? Serious consideration to what I am I willing to do, or not do, as a result is warranted.

• If I’m going to be really angry about something, I’d better be prepared to tell my sons why. I need to communicate with them the context of my anger, what it means to me, and how it manifests in my behavior. Especially if it involves them, they need to understand the difference between being upset with situations or behavior and anger placed and directed at them.

• Anger is such a powerful and potentially damaging emotion that I simply must commit to being consistent about managing the role of that anger plays in my, and their lives. When I blow up, and I blow it with unrighteous anger, I have to be quick to correct myself and teach them how to recover as well.

Righteous anger is also an awesome learning and teaching opportunity. Explaining my reasons for extreme dissatisfaction about core life issues provides the platform for discussions about what is critically important to me. Likewise, digging deeper when my boys are lit up allows me to understand them and their worldview better.

Challenge: Get to know your own anger. Can you accurately qualify if it is righteous or unrighteous? The next time your real anger feels right, I challenge you to test if it is.

I can’t be the only father who sees the power and the danger of anger. What do you do to wield this mighty sword with discernment?

Anger in my life may be fuel for action, but anger in my heart is poison.

Fear of the Dark

In honor of a summer vacation that was ending too early, (don’t they always?) and the start of a new school year, we took the boys camping this past weekend. Our campsite was located on the periphery of the site acreage, bordered by thick scrub oak and Ponderosa pines. Despite the scratches and bug bites earned by three guys determined to trample through thorny brush in shorts and flip flops, “getting wild” and roaming off-path was one of the more memorable parts of our experience.

Everything changed when the sun dropped behind the Rocky Mountains. Suddenly, the wild and wooly unknown of the woods became a threatening vortex of danger as broad and deep as one’s imagination. Flashlights penetrated no deeper than inches into the fray. An unknown that beckoned for exploration only 30-minutes before was now the source of anxiety - only moments later. My sons, whose boundless energy and spirit for adventure often had them out of sight, now craved two things: closeness to their sense of security (me) and light. It was natural for them to seek both.

It’s easy to get spooked in the woods.

I watched their wandering nature become corralled like an invisible fence by the reach of the flashlight on our path.  Meanwhile, I sought to squelch their fear with information; “There hasn’t been reports of bears in this area recently…” and “If you DO encounter a bear, don’t run – just get behind me!” Get the facts. Have a plan. That’s what makes me feel secure.

However, I found myself thinking, “But who do I get behind?”

Fathering is not unlike camping. We traverse through the wild in areas both known and unknown, but as men perhaps become less equipped to face the dark.  Instead of sticking close to the light when things get gnarly we often go wandering off alone, distancing ourselves from the very sense of security we seek.

Challenge: When fear of the unknown attacks you, and it will, run towards someone whom you can trust. Even the most remote paths are likely familiar territory to someone else.  Together, you can walk safely – even in the dark.

Show and Tell

My mother recently came to visit us in Colorado from her home in Austin, Texas. As the first born of her five children, I am -very appropriately- her favorite child (sorry brother and sisters!) and we have a terrific relationship. Her love for her grandsons is a close runner-up.

After an adventuresome expedition and cruise around downtown Denver, we returned to a parking garage and I proceeded to the front passenger side of my vehicle. Presuming I was getting in the car, my middle son stopped and asked, “Dad, what’re you doing? Grandma can’t drive your car.” As a point of reference, you must know that my car is tall – armored tank tall.

I was stunned by the question. Had my boys not seen me open the car door, the doors of the shops we just perused, the door to the restaurants, all the doors – all the time, for my mother? Why would it seem odd or out of place to him that I help my energetic (but 5’3”) mother into her seat? Have they not seen me do the same thing hundreds of time for my wife? Apparently not.

Nailed. Failed. This lesson about respect for women and the demonstration of care for our loved ones, (and dare I say, chivalry,) apparently has flown way below their radar. My assumption that showing my values and modeling the behavior that I wish to see in my boys was simply insufficient to make a lasting impression. I’ve been reminded that for this lesson as well as other fathering opportunities I must show and tell to accomplish the desired influence.  Now that we’ve had that “teaching moment” about boys and doors, we’ll test the theory thoroughly and see if I’m not the only guy to hold the door for their mom.

“And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise.” Deuteronomy 6:6-8

Challenge: What lessons are you assuming that children are naturally picking up? This week, take the time to explain one lesson to ensure they understand what and why it is important to you, and why it should be important to them too.