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How a Tragedy Taught Me the True Meaning of Fatherhood
Guest post for Changing Focus, hosted by friend and fellow Christian blogger, Jena Fellers.
Rebirth, Renewal.
I’m not one for resolutions, but rebirth and renewal excite me.
This morning I awoke with an energy I haven’t known for quite some time. I could sense something different. Something was new, something exciting. My contacts plopped themselves in, my teeth were brushed. I could see light from the bathroom window. I crept quiet through our bedroom; my wife was still sleeping. And then, stepping into the hall, beams of sunlight greeted me sweetly.
It looked glorious.
A Traditional Approach?
For those of us who have lost loved ones, a sure-fire way to trigger yourself into a pit of despair is to blindly face old traditions without a plan. Tradition, to many struggling with grief and loss, is a word coated with emotion of various kinds. Wrapped with hooks, barbs, harpoons, and Velcro, there’s rarely any escape when facing holiday traditions. The soul already hurting has little chance against what “always was.” There’s bound to be some sort of damage—it’s Christmas week. It’s a war zone out there.
Trust me. I know.
Irony? At Christmas?
Frederick Douglass once said: “At a time like this, scorching irony, not convincing argument, is needed.” I suppose he may be right. For in my mission to feed the hungry soul today, I can only think of the irony at hand.
It’s Christmas time. And many are struggling.