In a moment of innocent play, my son collided with the edge of a wooden step. It was a step I had made for him to climb on his large, plastic Little Tikes fortress. Ryan was my firstborn and only 2 years-old at the time. To put it lightly, it was not my smartest moment as a dad.
When he tripped, he gashed his eyebrow open. There were loud cries and lots of blood. We rushed him to the urgent care facility where the doctor strapped him into a "papoose" (a snug, velcro wrap used to restrain children). Ryan cried in anguish. His fearful face pleaded with me to do something. The nurse placed a surgical cloth over Ryan's face, leaving only his right eye and eyebrow exposed. I stood by helplessly watching in agony. The doctor then injected an anesthetic into Ryan's eyebrow. His terror intensified and my fatherly instincts roared. A nearly uncontrollable urge to rescue my son surged through me. Finally, the doctor stitched his cut.
By the time it was over, Ryan was out of breath, red-faced and sweating from his cries and struggle. He jumped into my arms seeking safety and comfort, and I held him tightly. It hurt beyond measure to see my innocent son in such pain and fear without the ability to understand why this had to happen.
Upon returning home, once emotions had settled, I found myself sitting in reflection. In that instance, I felt all the emotions that any normal father would— anguish, empathy, fear, stupidity and anger (at myself for the step), and a realization of an unyielding love that would cause my heart to hurt for my boy because he hurt, to rescue him from pain, to willingly take his place so he wouldn't suffer... and even more, a love so deep that I would allow him to walk through pain for the sake of what was ultimately best for him. That's what good dads have to do— and it hurts.
Then, I had a moment of realization about God, my Father in Heaven. How He gave his only son for me. It was love that called Jesus to the cross— the unyielding love of the son, but also love of the Father. Now I love many people, but I don't love them enough to give my son's life for them. Yet, that's what the Father did for us. As His son cried out to Him from the cross, the Father looked on and allowed Him to suffer. Why? Because of love... and love sometimes hurts. God's love is a love like no other.
Ryan was only two years old then and I knew a that time that I would have many more of these moments ahead. As a new father, I discovered that loving your children sometimes creates pain in your heart. It hurts when your own mistakes affect them, and it's painful to witness your kids in distress. Love hurts when it motivates you to make tough decisions for their benefit. This is the inherent cost of love in the journey of being a dad.
My experience represents just one of the many profound experiences I've had as a father. Most not as hurtful, but nonetheless just as powerful. Moments just like you've had. Moments in between the normal, day-to-day ups-and-downs of fatherhood that have reminded me how deeply I love my children— reinforcing the conviction that I would attempt to move heaven and earth if indeed it was necessary for their well-being.
That's the kind of love that's reflected in this resource and is found between the lines in all we do here at Thinking Dads. We seek to simply highlight what's already in your soul. Our goal is to provide you inspiration to tap into it and the skills to express it. I pray your find your time here worthwhile.
I'd love to hear your biggest takeaway, questions or comments. Please email me! I read and respond to every email.
Mike Ayers, Ph.D.
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