I am what I say I am

There are times in life when a great book will simply fall out of the heavens and into your lap at exactly the time you need it most. This book will answer questions you never even knew you had, and provide peace where inner anxiety and depression used to rule. It's a gift from a high place and all you can do is raise up your arms and shout "Thank You!!!!" to the unnamable forces that make these gifts possible.

My great book that fell out of the sky and into my lap is entitled "The Daddy Shift: How Stay-at-Home Dads, Breadwinning Moms, and Shared Parenting Are Transforming the American Family," by Jeremy Adam Smith. This remarkable book absolutely changed my perspective on every single aspect of my life. Before I read this book, I was caught in a never-ending search for an "identity." I began each day with the same questions: "Who am I? What am I?" I longed for a title. Any title. Something to validate me and give me a seat at the great table of society.

I spent a year preparing for a career in ministry. I had great plans, you see. I would attend seminary, earn a prestigious degree, lead a congregation, deliver sermons, write books, blah, blah, blah. There was just one problem. Doing so would force me to leave my hometown, abandon my relatives, force my wife to uproot her career and basically push my son Michael into a life of full-time daycare and constant movement between schools. It didn't make sense for my family, but I was going to be somebody damn it!! I was going to have a title and everything!!

Making the decision to postpone, at least for now, my ministry ambitions plunged me into a huge void of loss. I no longer had a plan. I no longer had answers to my questions. I no longer knew who I was, or who I was going to "be." I felt empty and useless. I no longer had a reservation at society's table. I was just a guy without a job and no earthly idea what the future held.

Well, after reading Smith's remarkable book, I know exactly who and "what" I am. Do you want to know "what" I am? I'll tell you.

I'm a Father.

For the past five years I have helped raise the most remarkable miracle I have ever been associated with. There have been ups, there have been downs, but there has always been love. I have watched a crying and helpless baby grow into a wide-eyed and laughing toddler. This toddler has since grown into a loving and caring kindergartner who has recently begun reading books, creating computer webpages, and taking care of his clueless old man. All with a smile and a sense of wonder that we could all learn from.

I've experienced this miracle, yet our culture never actually let me fully embrace it. I was too preoccupied with what I was going to "be" and where I was going to go in the future. The question I am most asked by well-meaning people is "What are you going to do after this?" It's a fair question, but it frames my experiences with my son as something temporary and less important than my aspirations in the "real world."

I'm not falling in this trap any more. I am a father. I am a damn good one. I don't know what I'm going to "be" after this, but I know it will never bring me the joy and love that comes with spending my days with Michael.

I want to thank Jeremy Adam Smith for showing me the error of my ways. For sharing stories of stay-at-home Dads from all over the country. Fathers experiencing the exact things I have experienced, and feeling the exact things I have felt. Fathers that are emboldened enough to feel pride for their role in raising their children and contributing to society at large.

We are living in changing times. Women, such as my remarkable wife April, are flourishing in their careers. In doing so, many of them are taking on the "breadwinning" role traditionally held by men. This requires a shift in the family dynamics. This requires new roles for women and men to raise children in the 21st century. This requires a true partnership. A true loving commitment by both parents to give their children the love and support they need to grow into the wonderful people we know they can be.

I get this now. Fatherhood is a title. For me it's THE title. Not just something I'm doing while searching for my seat at society's table.

You can have your table. I've got a my own table here in my kitchen. True, it's got crayons, Power Rangers and "High Five" magazines spread all over it, but you know what, I like it that way.