A Lesson For Dada

My wife is gone tonight, spending girl-time with some friends from church. That left me with Trusten, Brahm and Samuel from 5:30pm through to their bedtime. I had great plans to make it a fun night and for the most part succeeded. We drove through Sante Fe park, ate dinner at Sonic, enjoyed the mild evening outside by eating ice cream on the porch, and then working out the sugar rush from the ice cream by letting the boys ride their bikes up and down the sidewalk. I was feeling pretty good about my fathering as I imagined my boys remembering the night fondly as they grow older. Then I blew it.

As the spiritual head of the household, I should have brought them in the house and ended the night with family worship... but instead I thought it would be more fun to watch a movie together in our pajamas. Sounds innocent enough, but it was a mistake.

As we sat down together to watch Disney's Tarzan, my perfect evening began to slip away. At first it was really fun. We propped pillows up on the bed and sat in a row. I warmed up Samuel's bottle that Grace had left for me and even began feeding him right when she told me, 7:30pm. The boys seemed to be enjoying the movie and I was feeling really proud of how I had planned and controlled the evening with three boys under the age of four.

Then Samuel started squirming and fussing. I tried to lay him down for the night in his crib, but only needed a few minutes to see he wasn't going down that easy. I got him up and returned to the movie to find Trusten and Brahm not sitting so obediently anymore. As their attention span for the cartoon diminished and their desire to provoke each other increased, my peaceful end to the evening vanished. I soon found myself losing my patience and scolding Trusten specifically for not sitting still and watching the movie- a scolding that seems so silly now.

Most parents probably know the feeling of regret and guilt I experienced as I tucked my sweet boys into bed. My words during the end of that movie viewing were not loving or merciful. They were harsh. I knelt to pray after everyone was asleep and confessed my sin to God. I felt broken and ashamed, but also forgiven.

I couldn't leave it alone, so I went back into the boys' bedroom and knelt over Trusten to ask his forgiveness.
"Trusten, I am so sorry for the way I yelled at you during the movie. I feel really bad."
"I'm sorry too Dada."
"I forgive you Trusten, will you forgive me?"
"Sure." He smiled and hugged my neck.
"I love you buddy. We're best friends."
"Ya, best friends forever."

There was that perfect ending I was looking for. My three year old son and I connected at the heart level as I humbly reconciled with him. He was as quick to forgive as I was quick to scold earlier in the evening. I'm thankful that my heavenly Father is more patient with me than I tend to be with my sons and I earnestly pray that my fatherhood will come into conformity with His more everyday.