Dear TSJ Peeps,
Sometimes we tend to get so focused on all the mistakes we and others make, and how trying life can be. . . that we miss out completely on those moments that are absolutely precious. Especially in the daily grind of parenting.
One thing I have been observing lately is the number of fathers that are simply amazing in their ability to shepherd their children. We need them. And I do think there are slight shifts in our country allowing fathers to be more comfortable in the nurturing role as well as the guiding role with their children.
So what got me to writing this on today’s blog?
It all started when I was browsing in a large grocery store in the card department. My concentration was suddenly interrupted with a wail coming from a child not far away. Her cry sounded like a combination of anger and helplessness.
Naturally I cast my eyes around to see what the commotion was about.
A girl that looked to be about 5 was sitting in one of those large carts that kids can “drive around” in the store. Sitting next to her was likely an older sister (not by much).
Anyhow, this little girl was very loudly unhappy!
Her father was trying to pick out some items in the refrigerated storage. They were in the cheese isle. (My favorite place, actually).
I was at a distance so I was not an intrusive observer.
Her daddy tried to stay calm and let her cry it out. She was having none of that.
As I watched with great empathy, this daddy did something quietly remarkable.
And I was moved.
He gently and quietly lifted her out of the cart. And with no scolding, belittling, persuading or lecturing, he just held her. She wrapped herself around him and put her head on his shoulder. He simply held her quietly and calmly until she stopped crying. It didn’t take long at all. It was almost magical.
When she seemed consoled he gently placed her back in her seat and I could hear him say, “I am sorry you feel sad but I need for you not to cry right now so I can pick out our groceries.” Her sister (or apparent sister) but her arm around the sad girl’s shoulders and they proceeded forward.
Yes, I was moved to gentle tears. I had a lump in my throat. It was beautiful. Genuine. Ordinary. Powerful.
When we say we are “moved” what actually moves?
I so wanted to go up to him and thank him for his father-shepherding skills. And I could name some of those attributes and/or practiced skills…..quiet strength, tender affection, acceptance. By his actions he modeled what it means to feel misunderstood or sad or upset and tenderly held through it. He did not assure her all was well or that he loved her or anything extra. He just was with her and she could feel his heart. His timing was beautiful.
Yes, I wanted to thank him, but I could not even talk. Of course, he did not need my affirmation. But I would love to have told him how wonderful that interaction was. Lucky little girl.
I have tried to figure out just why that moved me so.
I have often felt similarly about our son-in-law as I observe him father their twins. He is an amazing tower of strength to both son and daughter (age ten). He is definitely a guide, a strong role model and clearly the kids are absolutely safe in his arms.
Speaking of our son-in-law, Dan, wouldn’t you know that very afternoon I was touched again by watching him take his daughter in the store walking hand in hand, with her long blond hair in the wind and a little strut that says, “My daddy has my hand…”
Yes, again in the same day I was touched.
What do we mean when we say we are “moved” or “touched?” I was neither literally moved nor touched.
We use concrete words to describe things that affect what actually cannot be touched, captured, held or bound. Yet we all know that it means our deep inner spirit was affected and there are no words adequate to describe the experience.
It means that we experience something way down deep in our hearts.
Neither of these fathers knows their children were not the only ones having a tender experience. I was too.
As I reflected on these things, I remembered the biblical story of the prodigal son who left home and squandered all of his father’s money and privileges . . . only one day to come crawling back home. What happened? He fell into the arms of a welcoming dad.
No matter our age, we long to be held without lecture, force or demands. We just need to be consoled. We want to be utterly accepted for who we are, warts and all.
And I remembered that Christ himself told us that he called his heavenly father, “Abba” which is apparently an affectionate term like our term, “daddy,” and he assured his listeners that his heavenly father is “abba” to us too.
Solomon says he has heard the verb “console” is old like he is. It is an action word that creates an experience for troubled hearts. It comes from Latin (consolari) where con means with and solari means soothe.
One more thing. .. this was also a reminder for me that we never know how we influence and impact others.
Such is our work as TSJ peeps…to live lives that leave love and compassion behind in our wake… like a sweet aftertaste.
