What God is teaching me through Belle

This summer marks the end of an era of Belle’s life.  She’s done with pre-school and in August will begin her journey through the educational system with Kindergarten.  From there on out a rhythm will be established involving school years, Christmas breaks, Spring breaks, summers, and eventually me sitting on hot bleachers waiting to see her walk across the stage at her high school graduation.

A common refrain around our house, one Janelle and I heard first from Stacie Wood and keep telling ourselves to stay sane, is that “God intends children for our character, not our comfort.”  That is to say, children are not just another avenue for us to make ourselves happy.  There have been lots of studies and articles lately to show that parents are less happy than non-parents, and many use that to justify why they don’t have kids.  Children do bring us joy but ultimately if we are seeking our own happiness through our kids we’re on the wrong track and it will end up messing them and us up.  Children are a crucible through which God can form us in a number of ways.  Here are some of the things God is using my role as Belle’s father to teach me.

I am unconditionally loved.

This is probably the biggest one and I got it right from the start.  All my life I’ve heard that I’m unconditionally loved by God but that’s pretty difficult to believe.  In the 4 1/2 years I’ve been a father I’ve come to understand on a deeper level the love God has for me.  I’m a massively flawed human being but my love for Belle will always be there, no matter what she does, because she’s my daughter.  Her actions may bring me joy or disappointment, but she will always have my love.

I am like Belle.

I’m impatient and fitful at times.  I mess up when I should know better.  I’m selfish and short-sighted.  All the crazy things a little kid does are things we adults often do, but we know how to do it in more respectable ways.  I don’t scream and cry about not getting my ice cream, but I get grumpy when I have to wait on someone who I think should have their stuff together already.  I don’t rip toys out of my little sister’s hands, but I so often spend my time and money on myself instead of others.  And my sin and selfishness has a way bigger impact than hers.

I am not as wise as I thought.

In parenting more than in any other arena I’ve experienced a feeling of helplessness and a sense that “I really have no idea what the best thing to do is.”  When you only have yourself to take care of, or it’s just you and your spouse, it’s easier to arrange life so you have most things handled and most things make sense.  Not so with kids.  I also recall making some bold proclamations before I had kids regarding what I would and would not do as a parent.  Any parent knows those bold proclamations go out the window.  As with the old adage, every battle plan survives until you meet the enemy. 

Fatherhood is leadership.

Belle really follows my example.  Juliette and Fiona will as well.  As my kids get a little older I’m realizing this more and more.  I want my girls to live incredible, gospel-drenched, love-saturated, Jesus-following lives. It is so apparent to me that unless I am showing them love, modeling a submitted life, and leading them well, the chances of that happening go way down.  Every day at work I see the results of all different kinds of parenting – and I’m reminded of the importance of a father.  It is a tremendous responsibility and one I am not up to, honestly, without God’s help.

I desperately need God.

My real-life faith in God has grown significantly since Belle joined our family.  That is, I believe more strongly than ever that God works in the every day.  I believe more strongly than ever that without God’s grace working in me I’d be a pretty awful Dad.  And if the most important thing for me to do is to be a father that raises Jesus-loving daughters, rather than nice or polite citizens of society, I absolutely need God to do it.

Those are a few of the things I’m learning through fatherhood, and Belle specifically.  She changed my life forever on October 4, 2006, and God is using her to mold me in significant ways.  I hope and pray every day that God uses me to mold her into the woman He made her to be.  I want her to grow up with the analogy of God the Father being a good one.  And I never want to make the mistake of thinking the purpose of Belle’s life is to make me happy.  What a tragic way to look at parenthood.

Why I didn’t mind spending two hours on something that’s “not my job”

This week we’ve been doing STAR testing at my school.  It is the battery of standardized tests used to measure how good a school and its teachers are.  I will eventually post a tirade of sorts on the many reasons STAR tests don’t really do what they're supposed to but that’s for another time.  This is a story about me realizing how much the old adage, “leadership is service,” is true.

Administering these tests is a bit of a bureaucratic nightmare.  Every student takes between two and five tests on different subjects.  Each subject has a number of different tests the student may take (different kinds of math, science, and history, for example).  You have to figure out who’s taking what test, where they’re taking it, get the right booklets and answer documents in the right spots, make sure the correct bubbles are filled in…there’s a lot to it. 

Tuesday was day two of the testing and most of our students had finished all their tests but we still had about sixty left.  Some had just one part of one test to do, others had three full tests.  Other students had no tests left.  We had to figure out how to schedule the next day.  What teachers would give tests?  What tests did students still have to take?  What was the best way to schedule the test takers?  What if they finished the tests before our brunch break – where do they go then?  What about the kids who don’t have any tests?  How can we schedule them so they are able to do fruitful work?  These questions and more presented themselves, and I found myself working with Wendy, the teacher who runs point on these things, to sort it all out.

We spent a little over two hours, along with one other teacher, sorting all this out.  Wendy is a real live teacher.  She has all the responsibilities a real live teacher does, but she’s taken it upon herself to organize the standardized testing process at our school.  This is a crazy amount of work that is usually done by administrators like Vice Principals – but we don’t have those at our school.  So Wendy volunteers to do it, and she does a great job.

There was no command or directive given to me and the other teacher that helped Wendy sort that stuff out.  We all had other things to do that weren’t getting done.  We were all frustrated and flummoxed (it is so awesome that I just used that word) by the process as we tried to sort through the spreadsheets, schedules, and test booklets.  But we did it – even though our boss never “told us to do it” and it wasn’t in our job description.  And I realized, somewhere towards the end, that a few things were true about this situation:

At no point in the process was I frustrated at other people for not doing it.

When I do things out of a sense of obligation or “I have to” or even frustration that “well someone has to do it,” that experience is almost always accompanied by some measure of frustration and annoyance.  I spend my time wondering what important things other people have to attend to that keeps them from helping.  I think of how awesome I am that I’m doing it and they’re not, and I hope they realize what a favor I’m doing them by bearing this burden for them.  None of these thoughts occurred to me. This is not because I’m a moral exemplar.  I noticed it because it's out of the ordinary. 

I was following a leader without her even asking me to.

A big part of the reason I wasn’t bugged was because I had the distinct sense that I was helping take some of the load off of Wendy – and it was my pleasure to do so.  But it wasn’t a charity thing.  She was leading the way – it was going to be done whether or not I helped – and I wanted to be a part of it.  She had cast no vision, she had recruited no volunteers – but I wanted to help because of who she is.  This helped me internalize something I’ve heard for years:

Leadership is influence and servanthood, not position and organizational power.

Wendy’s job title is “teacher,” just like most of us.  Ask anybody at our school and they will tell you Wendy loves them.  How do they know?  Not because she says it (although that is true).  It’s because she takes a genuine interest in people.  She asks about their life.  She shares her own.  She asks for ways to help.  She offers suggestions in a tactful way that makes it clear she only wants to be a blessing if you want her to.  She asks for your suggestions and input, making it clear that no matter where you land on the organizational power spectrum that she can learn something from you.  She volunteers to take work on her shoulders and happily does it.  She doesn’t guilt people into helping – she just makes it happen.

These are all the things a leader does.  Wendy would probably balk a little at being described as such, but I’m learning a lot about leadership by watching her example.  She could benefit from being more willing to ask others for help, but here’s the thing: if they don’t help she’s not bitter about it.

She’s built influence unconsciously through the way she shows care for others on a daily basis, and the way she pushes forward to get the job done.  This isn’t a deliberate effort on her part to build influence and be a leader – it’s just who she is.   

Leadership is the fruit of who you are.

Too often I think of leadership as a set of skills that allows me to build influence and accomplish goals.  That leads to insincere relationships and frustration when others don’t do what you want them to.  I see in Wendy something I aspire to: genuine care and investment in others.  She doesn’t do it thinking it makes her a good leader.  She never read a book that says the real way to gain influence with people is to show that you care.  It’s just who she is.  The fruit of that is people sacrificing to serve with her – and honestly to serve her a little bit.  I think STAR tests are stupid and I don’t believe in them, but because I believe in Wendy I was willing to do it.