My son, Lawrence, loves to play basketball. We used to play 2-3 times a month or so. We’d play ’round the world (with me spotting him an extra chance each time), "21", 3-point shoot out, "horse", whatever. Tonight I laid down with him for a few minutes as he fell asleep and I said, "We’ve got to play hoops some more. It has been too long since we’ve played."
And it has.
Where does time go? The expression is as old as…time. Yesterday Lawrence learned to ride his bike, and the day before that we ran around the house, a 3-year old hooping it up trying to catch daddy. Two days before that we were impossibly happy with the joy of a new born. Where went the days when we built the tree house together? Where went his first day of school? His first sleepover? His first field day? What of that mystical day when Jane watched him swinging in the park and realized her little boy was growing up? He was six.
How many times did he ask, "Can we play rassle, Dad? Please?" — and I didn’t have time? How many times did he want to play horsey or monopoly or dominoes and I didn’t have time. What do I have time for?
I remember carrying Lawrence to bed one night in ‘01. I was thinking about taking an extra Seminary class in the summer, a grueling, time-consuming endeavor. Lawrence was five and I knew (barely) that he wouldn’t stay that way. As I carried him to his bed, late in the night, I had an ‘aha’ moment, one of those times where realization blazes into your being. I said, "My boy is 5, I don’t need that class, this summer is about staying connected with my growing boy." He was, I didn’t and, in some measure, it was.
Here is the mystery, the angst, the longing that is tied up in what we call the passing of time. And I wonder sometimes if we can ever do ‘enough’ with our children. What is the answer? As says Reb Tevye, "We know the problem, Lord. Show us the cure."
The height of folly would be to offer simple answers, and yet remembering some basics may help, so I am going to give it a try.
1. Our time is in God’s hands. What does that mean? For starters, I think it means that there is enough time in everyday to do the will of God.
2. But much more, I think, it means living at peace with and before the One who made us. The tyranny of the urgent, as the famous essay puts it, is just that. Being earnest and efficient and all that is well and good. But as Eisenhower (or someone) said, "The urgent is seldom important and the important is seldom urgent."
3. I think this last means that if we don’t know what really matters we will never handle our time well. And so what matters? Offending a child, Jesus said, is so grievous that the offending one is worthy of death. How much worse if the offender is the parent.
4. A bit harsh in this context? Maybe. I am just trying to find perspective. What matters? My work? Yes. My marriage? Absolutely. My relationship with the Lord? Paramount.
5. Marriage and home should be valiantly protected because in them the greatest possible value is created: new living souls, children to be loved and cherished and moulded and prepared for this life. That matters, too.
6. God has given Jane and me two precious sons. If I don’t figure out how to give them adequate time, I am missing what matters in a major way.
This can be discouraging, but it doesn’t have to end there. It is a musing with which I think all parents will find something in common. As my Mother has said, "The best way to raise children is on your knees." And while I’m doing some praying, I’m also going to return to the thing that got this started. I’m gonna go play some hoops with my son. Not much else matters.
January 28th, 2007 at 11:51 pm e
How timely. Our pastor preached this morning asking us whether we are driven by the world or led by God. He made the point that Jesus often felt the pressure of the needs of the world around Him but he was never driven by that pressure, but was always listening to and led by the Father.
January 29th, 2007 at 2:52 am e
OK, this blog gave me goosebumps!!! I think about this almost daily, it just goes so fast. After celebrating a fourth birthday this weekend with child #3 I find myself thinking about it even more…only one more year until he’s school age and then it seems that childhood goes even faster. I so enjoy the baby/toddler years and yet they are so fleeting. A great reminder, reading this blog, to make sure spending time with our kids is a priority! In my opinon it is not quality over quanity but to do them both as priorities in our lives.
January 29th, 2007 at 5:05 am e
Thank you, Jen and Mary for chiming in. Hearing God above the pressures and letting Him shape our priorities — that does say it just right, I think. And I do think the quality/quantity debate is so difficult and perhaps misleading. Kids need both and parents need the wisdom and self-sacrifice to give it appropriately.
January 30th, 2007 at 1:01 am e
One criterion could be this: “What will my child remember about their childhood 20 years from now.
January 30th, 2007 at 12:59 pm e
This is very challenging - and now that I am officially an “empty-nester” I have had some time to think about it. When my girls were young I thought I was doing very well but sometime in there I lost track and suddenly they were teenagers and it was much more difficult to just “shoot some hoops”. And still today, even though they call several times a week, it is the same issue of what is important and am I giving to them what they need?
Glendah, your question, “What will my child remember…?” I am thinking about our family reunions and all the fun we have remembering. Do you realize that nearly all of those stories are about each other and not Mom and Dad? But think how different the stories would be if we had not felt so safe and secure in their constancy and faithfulness to each other? Leads us back to the oft stated, “The best thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother.”
January 31st, 2007 at 1:49 am e
Well stated, Dale. Security is one very important component in child rearing and probably one not realized until adulthood.
February 4th, 2007 at 12:25 am e
I’m going to quit reading your blog, Randy and go “wrassle” with my boys… Thanks, for putting somethings in perspective!