Fathers, 8 things nobody tells you about becoming a dad

I actually became a dad for the first time. First came Grace, then Daniel
Jr., then Emma, and finally Lily. I’m now a father of four and I know much less
about parenting than I did before I became a parent. I’ve realized that there
are certain things about fatherhood you can only learn until you actually become
a dad. Here are eight:

1) You are much less patient than you think
you are. 
Oh, you think you’re a loving, patient, sweet peach of man.
You’ll be the guy playing catch for hours and carefully instructing your son how
to ride his bike. You’ll never get short with your kids and you’ll always know
the perfect balance between discipline and love. Right. Keep dreaming, my
friend. There’s nothing like a live child in your midst to bring out your
selfishness, anger, and impatience.

2) Many times you’ll have no clue
what to do. 
But you still have to pretend you are in control. Like when
your three-year old melts down the grocery store. The books say to do one thing,
but there is a certain paralysis that takes place when it’s your little child
kicking, screaming, and not getting along with the shopping program. Over time,
you’ll figure out your child and the best method, but there will be a lot of
trial and error along the way. Mostly error.

3) You’ll probably not
get six continuous hours of good sleep ever again. 
And if you do, you’ll
never admit it because it will make your wife mad for the broken-up sleep she
got when she got up and took care of the teething child. Dads perfect the art of
pretending like they are stone-cold sleepers who can’t be easily woke. But
really you’re just trying to do it long enough so she’ll get up and take care of
the situation.

4) There are singular moments of joy so indescribable
they can only be experienced. 
There are moments of pride and joy that
make every single hard parenting experience seem easy. There are times of
closeness and love that will make your heart burst with rapture. Sometimes I
just sit back and look at my four children and cannot believe God allowed me to
be their dad. If you’re a dad, you know what I mean.

5) Your presence
is more important than you know. 
You may not think you’re a good dad.
You may not think you’re all that useful around the house. But your kids need
your presence more than you know. God wove fatherhood into the fabric of
humanity. Your consistency and faithfulness to your wife and to your children
will speak volumes to your children about the consistency and faithfulness of
their Heavenly Father.

6) You need to repeat the same words over and
over to your children. 
It’s not enough to be a model Christian. It’s not
enough to provide and be present. Your kids must hear over and over again how
much you love and accept them. I try every single day to tell each one of my
children that I love them. There have been times I’ve flippantly said something
to my oldest daughter and it crushed her feelings. I’ve had to apologize and
seek forgiveness. My words matter to her.

7) You will watch less of
your favorite games, play less video games, and will go out with your guy
friends hardly at all. 
But this is good. You are called to serve your
family sacrificially. This often means putting your selfish desires last. This
means not whining. This means being strong when you want to be tired. This means
being the brave one when everyone is scared. But if you see your kids as your
God-given mission, you will gladly give up these things for something better.
Your sacrifice and your presence is not an option.

8) You will
embrace your cluelessness as a gift from God. 
The further you go into
your fatherhood, the more you realize you need help being a good dad. You really
don’t have what it takes. This is where you lean in, heavily, on your Heavenly
Father. The sooner we realize, as dads, that we don’t have what it takes to
succeed, the sooner we’ll seek His help, both through His Word, His Spirit, and
from earthly fathers who can lend wisdom. I’ve learned much from a program our
church did called Men’s Fraternity. I’ve learned much from other dads in my
church. I’ve learned a lot from older dads who have gone before.

[written
by Daniel Darling]