Perhaps it is because I had to experience the awesomeness of #dad2summit through the lens of my cellphone instead of through my eyes.
Then again, there was so much to unpack from “Crash the Chatterbox” which I just finished reading for my 2018 reading challenge.
It could be stemming from preparing to add #4 to our brood in a few months.
Or that our oldest, and only daughter, is turning six years old even sooner than that.
But something is stirring. Something deep. Its rawness is sharp and its weight is heavy.
It all stems from this quote from Steven Furtick in the aforementioned book “Crash the Chatterbox”:
“Every second you spend wishing God would take away a struggle is a forfeited opportunity to overcome”
But, what is the struggle that I am talking about? Better, which one from the endless list of shortcomings or pain points does this have to do with? I could marinate on these two questions. Dear readers, you know me. I could launch into a winding torrent of a diatribe as I dabble with it all. But, this time. I am not. The answer is too clear for me to use that tactic this time.
The way that I see it, I started down this road on a mission. I wanted to ask the questions, and find the answers about what makes a great dad. Then, all of a sudden, the picture perfect dream of fatherhood was upended. Shattered as I spent my daughters first few days in the NICU. Listening to monitors, researching Craniosynostosis, and getting involved in lengthy and weighted conversations about what my daughter’s future may look like. These things drown out the pictures and images that I had already formed. Hiding the voice that I had harbored for so long.
Somehow I missed something. I have been saying it all along and I never applied it. I let my daughter’s condition define me as a dad. NEVER, EVER have I let it define her. But it is who I am. I know more than most doctors and pediatricians about her condition, and the countless variants. I can speak for days about what the surgeries are like, what we have been through, and how amazing my daughter is. Time and time again I have said how thankful that I am to be found worthy of being called “daddy” to such an amazing little girl. But I let my focus of fatherhood be consumed by her condition.
It is becoming more and more clear that I need to enact a change. I feel like I know what the next few steps are. Nervous and excited I have already started working on them.
I have more to say on this, but I am actively putting things together to make it all make sense. Stay tuned over the coming days for something awesome.
Live big, love bigger, and be kind, always.