Fatherhood is a good thing

 BEING A FATHER...

People often ask me if I knew what I wanted to be in the future. To be honest, the only thing I wanted to be when I was a kid was a baseball player. I loved it. I never thought about being a professional in the work force. I didn’t want to be a doctor, an architect, or really any other job. People find that weird but it’s true.

              There are two things I knew I did want for my future. The first was a husband and the second was a dad. Luckily, I met a woman who not only loves me but gave me wonderful kids. If I’m honest, I don’t necessarily have my dream job, but I am so glad I have Beka and the kids. It makes doing things a lot easier being able to support them.

               The reason I write this is because I’ve been thinking a lot about Father’s Day and fatherhood. It’s changed me significantly. In the physical ways, my house is never clean, I can’t watch what I want on TV, and I’m answering a lot more questions about things with more google searches. On the internal realm, I see my flaws, I see great joys, and I understand Jesus’ love more.

              My kids can be difficult but what parents wouldn’t say this about their children. Yet, there is nothing like coming home and them wrapping your legs up in a big hug. There is nothing like watching them ride a bike for the first time. There is nothing like belly laughter as they tell jokes they find funny.

              I’ve cherished moments and I think about my own dad. My dad taught me the importance of being a husband and father. He taught me the importance of love. Both my parents taught me as much but as a young boy learning what it meant to be a man; my father embodied it.

              My dad often sacrificed to give us the best life he could give us. This meant working hard at jobs, I know he probably didn’t love. I knew he’d come home tired, but he was always there for dinner. He’d always be there for bedtime. As we got older, he’d always make sure he was at our practices for sports and games. When he was doing schooling, he took his work with him and did it while making sure he was supporting us.

              My dad also liked to do special things for us. He would take us to the movies, sometimes to sporting events, and even amusement parks. I remember a lot of Sundays after church, he’d buy a box of bagels and we’d sit and watch Steeler games together because it was not only something he loved but it was time with us.

              My dad also took the time to talk to us. He was someone who took the time to guide us and not tell us what we should do. I remember making mistakes and he’d be frustrated but he’d talk to me about it. It was something that he wanted to teach and help me understand why I might have been punished.

He also allowed me to find my own faith. Sure, he wanted us in church while living in his house but it wasn’t something forced on me. I think having the ability to think for myself helped me become a better follower of Jesus. My dad prayed often and would tell us. I didn’t know much about this until my mom told me about the way my dad would pray and was constantly praying over us.

My dad’s legacy is what inspires me often to be a better father. I admit, I feel I fall short, but I know that even my father felt that way. This doesn’t define me as a father because I will always fall short. As I cling to Jesus, I know that I will be able to be the father my kids need.

I love being a dad to my kids. I struggle often because being a father is hard. I don’t always love each day with struggles at work or personal battles. Yet, when I get to see my kids thrive, when I get those hugs and cuddles, those moments remind me the world is beautiful.

I would be remiss to say that I couldn’t be half the father I am without my wife. She inspires me everyday with all she does for the kids and I. She is often behind the scenes doing a lot of great work with my kids. She has blessed me with her kindness and love. So, this Father’s Day, I am reminded of the grace that God has poured out to me in many ways.

Good-bye Friend

Recently, I lost an extraordinary friend. I often find the most extraordinary people are usually sitting close to us in a room. They are typically the people who seem to avoid attention. They literally look for ways to hide in the shadows like Batman. I'm sure some of my colleagues would laugh at the thought of Wilsa being equated to Batman, but this was Wilsa, a fierce protector of people, who never sought glory for herself, but often gave herself for the people she loved. 

Wilsa loved well. She always seemed to be able to find a place in her heart to give love to people. When you were with her, she never seemed to make you feel like a burden but rather like the most important person in the room. She had this smile and laugh that was contagious. You could feel the joy of her soul engulf yours and often times, you'd be laughing and smiling with her. 

Over the course of 6 years, Wilsa would share pieces of her story with me. Wilsa was born in Haiti and very proud of her Haitian heritage. She would become joyful when someone would speak French to her. As my office mates and myself often would catch her speaking or singing to herself in French. Wilsa would share her love for the the island and tell stories of her time. 

Wilsa also revealed to me that she was a doctor. Apparently everyone seemed to know this but I was a bit slow to the party. She was practicing medicine while in Haiti which made sense because Wilsa was very bright. She understood the workings of the medical system usually to the determent of her doctors. I like to believe the doctors enjoyed Wilsa but I also imagine Wilsa could be a hard patient. 

Wilsa didn't beat around the bush when it came to her speaking her mind. She was straightforward and honest. As I worked with her, I knew people struggled because she just say what needed to be said. It didn't matter if it was hard to hear, she said it. I remember often wondering if she was only like this in the workforce, but it turns out she was like this with her doctors, friends, and especially her family. 

The reason for this is because she could see the unlocked potential of a person. Wilsa didn't want people to take the easy way because she knew if you'd push passed the barriers in front of you, you'd grow into the person God desired you to be.

She loved well. Wilsa experienced her own personal traumas in life but didn't let it define her as a person. She used all that she experienced to influence and help others. I was recently told a story about Wilsa by one of my friends about when Haiti experienced a natural disaster. She had a house in Haiti where she opened the doors to support other neighbours effected by the event. She brought people into her home and let them stay for about a month providing food and all. This is how Wilsa loved. 

Wilsa desired to help. It wasn't out of this desire to be a social warrior but because of her faith. She believed what Jesus said and did and embodied it. I worked in an office with her and would listen to her speak with others on the phone. When she returned to campus during the Covid years, she would deal with people who were experiencing Covid. She would call them and check in but she would also sometimes just talk with them for a bit. She'd make sure the needs were met but also laugh and try to give them joy in the midst of not feeling well. 

I'd also see this when she interacted with people on her caseload. She was an encourager of moving forward and making goals. She didn't let people make excuses but would push back and remind them to do well. She would do this to me too. I wasn't able to escape Wilsa's encouragement to strive for my full potential. 

I remember I hit a snag at my job. I felt extremely discouraged and like I was going nowhere. I was working 2nd shift, thinking about how I was missing out on my kids days and most of all saying goodnight at bedtime. I remember feeling bad when Beka would be sleeping when I got home and leave quite early when she had to go to work. I felt done with my job but I couldn't go anywhere and was stuck.

I remember sitting with Wilsa and telling her maybe God is done with me at my job and I needed to move on. She just sat there and listened. She took in every word and when I was done, she looked at me and smiled. She then proceeded to tell me to knock it off and realize that God will provide clarity but to see that everything I do matters. It matter to the people I worked for, it mattered for Beka, and it mattered for my kids. She gave me the slap back to reality I needed.

She would go on sharing wisdom tidbits with me in our longwinded conversations in the case manager office. In one of our last conversations that I remember, we talked about her health and her life and she shared being tired. Her motivation was her family and seeing her daughter graduate college but she would acknowledge it wasn't up to her. I remember her telling me that regardless of what happens, she was happy with life. There is a part of me that wondered if she knew that her days were slowly dwindling. 

I have many stories of Wilsa I could share, the times she would dance to 80's music in the office, or how she would ask how to pronounce certain words and go onto remind us English is her second language, but I would need to write a book for all those stories. Plus, there are others who have so many more stories of the amazing life Wilsa lead. 

Wilsa was an amazing woman who deserves to be celebrated. She would show up to work even when her health was declining, even when she had to use a wall to keep her balance, because she would not let her health steal her joy. She taught me to value each day, each interaction, each mundane moment of paperwork, because it was a gift that God gave us. 

Wilsa's faith kept her strong in her battle. I'm sure she had her moments of doubts but I know she trusted Jesus more. Wilsa taught me that faith is a struggle but one worth going through. Wilsa was extraordinary. She was a super hero. Most of all she was my friend and friend to many. She was also felt like family. She loved my wife and kids so well, like she loved so many. 

I loved my friend Wilsa. I will miss her deeply. Even as I write this, I know when I walk into my shared office, there will be this feeling of void. I am grateful to God for each day I had to know Wilsa. I'm also grateful that our stories crossed and I got to be a small part of it. Rest well Wilsa, I know we'll meet again someday.

When Michael Bay Gets the Respect He Deserves... well kind of

 Voices in my head

    I wish people could hear the conversations in my head. I’m sure some of the conversations are quite humorous. I also try to imagine what my face is showing to a person who may be watching me in these moments. Based on what I know, I’m typically a blank stare kind of person, so I am probably not like J.D. from Scrubs where he has a daydreaming face.


    Yet, I imagine on the day I listened to a certain person talk about how they talk to God, my face probably showed some emotion. I often have these battles in my head where I’m discussing with God about some things. In this case, I will share how this conversation probably went.

    “Hey God, I know I should be listening but I have a question. You see, this person is talking about how they hear from you audibly when they are in a special place. I mean seriously, they keep going on about how you tell them what to do. I’m pretty sure, I’ve never had you speak to me like that before. Is there something wrong with me? What is special about this person? IS it because they are in this high position and they have multiple degrees? Is it because they don’t get distracted about things like how the Mets could make a trade in order to get back on track. Wait.. sorry God I did it again. Well, if you get the chance, I’d really love to hear you directly and not through other ways.


    I don’t know about you but I feel like I have this conversation like 10 times a year. It’s like I’m surprised every time I hear someone talk about how they heard this voice of God that has inspired them. Over time though, I figured out that sometimes people use this as a means to manipulate. It turns out, Christians can use the systems in place to convince others of things but that's not the point of me writing.

I'm hearing things

    I want to be clear, I’m not saying you can’t hear from God; actually it’s been done. I believe though that God doesn’t often have conversations like I would with a friend or my brothers. I believe there is a time and a place for that but I do believe he can speak through others, or a word, or even place thoughts in our heads.


    We can see this in the Bible as well. There were periods of time, where God just didn't talk to his people. I mean the Israelites were in the desert for 40 years and our boy Mo seems to only have the conversations recorded in the Bible with God. It’s not everyday. It might not even be every week.


    I’m sure there was silence and maybe even long periods of silence. I mean look at the years between the Old Testament and The New Testament. I don’t think God was silent but speaking to people in a different way. I think oftentimes, we think that God spoke to the biblical authors like all the time. I think we imagine them having conversations like people have on cell phones. Truth is, I think people of the Bible and us are more alike in how God speaks to us.


    Again, I want to emphasise that this isn’t saying God won’t speak to you audibly. My main point of this is to say, it’s okay if God doesn’t speak to you in that way. I believe the Holy Spirit (the 3rd part of the trinity) will “.... helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God” (Romans 8:26-27 ESV).

    The Spirit will do work and speak even when we aren’t sure because the Spirit is one with the Father and Son (John 16:13-15). Deep down somewhere in our souls, the Spirit is at work. This doesn’t mean that you will hear the voice of God, which in my mind fluctuates between Liam Niessen and Morgan Freeman but rather embrace the silence because God is working. When He works, typically He eventually speaks to us. It might not be audible. It could be a thought, or a passage of scripture, or a song. Maybe rather than waiting for that audible voice, we should be listening to what’s around us. We should embrace that God uses his Creation to speak to us.

Michael Bay Revelation

    It makes me think of Bumblebee from Transformers. He used a car radio to speak to others. I like to think that sometimes God speaks to us in many different ways. He shuffles through the channels of the radio to speak, direct, and teach. He may speak audibly too. Yet, I think in the midst of waiting, we to embrace that God will meet us in the silence.


    This could all be complete nonsensical writing and I could be fully wrong. The fact of the matter is, I don’t think people need to carry such a heavy load or feel they aren’t “close” to God if they don’t have these ongoing conversations. The ongoing conversation happens in scripture. God is communicating to us his truth. God will communicate with us through prayer too. The fact is we need to be okay when God doesn’t seem to speak the way we think. Embrace the silence and wait on the Lord.

Reflection

 

Growing up

Time continues to fly by 

As the lines are roadmaps under my eyes 

All the trees I’ve climbed and corns stocks I’ve brushed 

As the hours passed on the clocks 

Where would I be without staying up late with friends

Watching movies and laughing until the night ends

All these memories, remind me of a time

When I believed the world was mine 

All these memories, of summer nights 

Kicking up dust on ball fields

Laughing at my brothers jokes 

As we sat at the dinner table 

When I look back at these times

I remember it well

Oh what a life I get to live 

Soda bottles and guitar amps 

Church basements to small galleries 

Playing songs inspired from nights of skateboards

And jokes at the expense of one another 

The callous fingers and blistered hands 

Casualties of a good time my friends 

All these memories, of beach trips 

All the Bogie boards and boardwalks 

My dad reading books and my mother on kayaks 

All these memories, of running through my high school halls

Because of a game inspired from my friend Tim 

I remember these times well

Oh what a life I get to live 

As I drive down Prince St, I still remember the coffee shops and art galleries 

I remember the times with friends and what we use to eat 

As the years go by, and my eyes earn another line below them 

I remember the gift of each day, and treasure each memory