If you want children to keep their feet on the ground, put some responsibility on their shoulders.
—ABIGAIL VAN BUREN
DETERMINE A LONG-TERM strategy for maximizing your impact as a father and your child’s success later in life. This chapter offers help in determining the best things to consider—like character, curiosity, and common sense.
Do you remember the popular movie trilogy from the 1980s titled Back to the Future? The films starred Michael J. Fox as seventeen-year-old Marty McFly, who rode backward and forward in time using a modified DeLorean. Just for fun let’s take Marty’s time machine for a jaunt into the future.
Your seven-year-old boy, the firstborn apple of your eye, is playing baseball in the city’s parks and rec league. You’ve played catch with him, gotten him a plastic bat and ball, and tried to help him figure out the game’s mechanics. You’ve encouraged him for these past few years. You’ve tried to give him the tools to succeed—at some level—at playing baseball. You want him to do well. You want to help him avoid embarrassment.
Although it’s difficult to admit, he isn’t particularly gifted as an athlete, and the game’s finer points regularly elude him. But here you are, at a game, watching him out in right field, cheering him on.
As you sit high in the stands with the other parents, you notice he seems to be daydreaming. He probably wouldn’t see a fly ball if one came his way.
Inside you try to get his attention. “C’mon, son, get your head into the game. Be ready for the batter to hit it. And if you do get the ball, where are you gonna throw it?” But he remains distracted by the butterflies.
As you try to project your thoughts to him, you realize that, at least for now, your boy isn’t terribly interested in the game. He’s probably not going to be a superstar on this—or any other team.
In fact, as he gets older, he’s not likely to play any sport.
What do you do with that?
Something like this happened to me. I was the dad in the bleachers waiting to see how my son might catch the ball. I watched him struggle to enjoy the game, flinching when a ball was hit his way. I tried, unsuccessfully, to interest him in sports. By the time he was ten, we’d given up on organized athletics.
Despite my expectations, I finally had to admit my son wasn’t very interested in sports. He wasn’t competitive. He just didn’t care about winning.
He preferred mechanical challenges (like disassembling a toaster) to the thrill of stealing a base or hitting a double. Organized sports didn’t fit his personality.
What was I expecting? How important to me was my son’s involvement in sports? Was success in athletics significant for his success in life?
It’s not that we gave up at the first sign of disinterest in athletics. We tried a number of sports. But eventually it became apparent that this was a wasted effort. In the end, I learned to let go of my hopes that this boy would excel in sports—any sport.
Instead of chasing the dream of a son with great athletic prowess, I concentrated my parenting energies on the things that really matter, the things my wife and I value. I traded my hopes for vicarious sports stardom for a burning desire to infuse my son with the internal qualities that linger much longer than a summer league trophy.
Things like honesty, loyalty, integrity, compassion, and character.
While critical life qualities can be learned in sports, they can also be acquired through a number of other activities. It took me awhile to appreciate that, but it’s been a liberating realization.
So, if parenting aims at helping our kids succeed in life, what’s success going to look like for your firstborn?
Singer and songwriter Bob Dylan summed up success this way: “A person is a success,” he said, if he “gets up in the morning and gets to bed at night and in between does what he wants to do.”
Is he right? Is success just a matter of personal fulfillment? Or does it go deeper?
In sports, success usually has a clear definition. For professional teams, it’s winning the Super Bowl, or the World Series, or for those more globally minded, the World Cup. For individuals, success means winning the Masters or Wimbledon, the Indy 500 or the Boston Marathon. For Olympic athletes, success means stepping onto the platform and accepting that gold, silver, or bronze medal.
The business world measures success in terms of shareholder value, company size, completing a project under budget, meeting a sales target, or gaining in market share.
In education, success means an improvement in test scores, winning the band competition, or attaining an advanced degree.
Most of us have a definition of success that we—consciously or unconsciously—strive for. It might be a title at work, a level of income, or a particular social status. We might identify our success by our friends, our accomplishments, or maybe even having specific character qualities.
One of George Washington’s favorite theater performances was Joseph Addison’s Cato. He saw it numerous times and even had it performed for his troops at Valley Forge. It has a line of dialogue that not only Washington but also John Adams regularly quoted:
I wonder how many of us can appreciate this mind-set. Most of us have been taught, perhaps subtly, that victory equals success. The late George Steinbrenner, owner of the New York Yankees, once said, “Winning is the most important thing in my life, after breathing. Breathing first, winning next.”
Based on his thirty-plus years as boss of the storied baseball franchise, George Steinbrenner wasn’t kidding. For him, victory trumped everything else.
What about your family? How will you measure success in parenting your firstborn? How will you determine if your child is succeeding?
Let me suggest that for you to prepare your new child for success you need to first determine what success is—for your child and for your parenting. Only then will you be able to know how to help your child aim for the gold.
While you need to come up with your own definitions, let me propose a few measures of parenting success—some things quite different from the normal hallmarks.
True success isn’t a list of accomplishments. While making the honor roll, being a star player, or selling the most cookies can reflect good things in a child’s life, taken at their face value they’re merely activities. Anyone can be busy, and these days it seems that outstanding is a superlative almost any kid can attain.
As one school banner proclaimed, theirs is a facility “Where every child succeeds.” Really? How is that? Only by considering external accomplishment can we ascribe “success” to everyone in a program.
There’s something deeper to true success. Something more substantial. Something harder to achieve, harder to measure, but long-lasting and deeply meaningful. I’m talking about intangible but ultimately significant qualities. Things like character, compassion, curiosity, and common sense. These will truly make for a successful life. If my sons and daughters possess these traits, I’ll consider them successful—and our parenting effective.
My wife asked our youngest daughter the other day, “What do you think character means?”
Tauvi replied, “It’s who you are when no one is looking.”
I think my daughter got it right. If my kids will make good choices and behave when no one is looking, they’ll show some character.
Abraham Lincoln once said, “Reputation is the shadow. Character is the tree.” Our character is not just what we try to display for others. Good character is doing the right thing because it is right.
Dictionary definitions of character usually reflect inner qualities like honesty, loyalty, courage, integrity, compassion, commitment, and devotion.
At times, circumstances reveal our child’s previously hidden attributes. Difficult situations cause someone’s true character to become apparent.
Here’s how the US Air Force Academy defines character:
… the sum of those qualities of moral excellence that stimulate a person to do the right thing, which is manifested through right and proper actions despite internal or external pressures to the contrary.
Where does your child learn to acquire good character? The primary place is within your family. School, Scouts, and sports can help, but it is within your family that such attributes are cultivated and refined.
Let’s look at a few aspects of character you may want your child to have as he grows up. You’ll likely not see evidence of these for many years. So it helps to take a long view, think through the matter now, and plan to mold your child in the coming years with purpose.
Having the courage of one’s convictions is something I want for my children. They need to know what they believe, and why; they need to be able to defend those beliefs; and they need to let those beliefs define their life’s activities.
I can recall as a freshman in college my first tastes of true freedom. Life was mine to define and live out three hundred miles from home. For all practical purposes, nobody would know what I did.
I watched as classmates engaged in heavy drinking and drug use. Despite their availability and the freedom I was experiencing, I declined the opportunity to drink alcohol or smoke marijuana. I knew such behaviors had negative effects, and while I don’t recall my parents talking with me about the dangers of substance abuse, my deeply held beliefs about drugs and alcohol helped me avoid them. This isn’t a dramatic story, but it illustrates one character quality: conviction.
In the 2009 remake of Sherlock Holmes, the lead character has an insatiable curiosity. It often leads him into dangerous situations, but it also enables Holmes to solve puzzling crimes. In one scene when a character dismisses “the small details” of a situation, Holmes counters that it is the small things that really bear consideration.
Holmes’s curiosity set him apart. I suggest that a curious character will make for a lifelong learner—something that will set your child apart from his peers.
Passive ingestion of video games, movies, and online video seems to diminish a child’s ability to think clearly and act creatively. We watch (and even encourage) our children to sit more and use less brain power.
Rather than accept passive entertainment, use the tools at your disposal (nature, the public library, car rides, and anything else you can think of) to challenge, equip, and encourage your child’s healthy curiosity of the world and how it works.
Real compassion means to care for those who are hurting, powerless, and needing assistance. It is definitely a quality I want to see in each of my kids. As they demonstrate other-centered hearts, they reflect the heart of God and reveal an inner quality this world desperately needs. And in so doing, they’ll be truly successful.
To cultivate compassion, you’ve got to model it.
The trip was the realization of my wife’s dream of a family service project. We traveled with two other families (our entourage included six adults and thirteen children).
We centered our activity on an orphanage in Ayacucho, Peru, where we spent most of our time loving on some precious children who had experienced a lot of difficulty in their short lives. These kids had no family, but they were a family, living together and developing bonds through their common pain.
It was gratifying to see my children interacting with the orphans. They instantly—and intuitively—knew that physical touch was important to the young residents of Casa Luz. They scooped up the littlest ones, hugging and holding them. When the older children came in from school, our kids engaged them in conversation, through some mangled Spanish and English translating, and some soccer on the patio.
Despite language and cultural differences, we watched our children reach out to kids who were disadvantaged in so many ways. Bonds were formed that remained in place long after we left Peru.
I was pleased that all our kids showed compassion. They looked out for and into the lives of the children we visited. They didn’t consider themselves better than the orphans—they realized how privileged we are in America and how little those Casa Luz kids really had. This wasn’t pity—merely feeling bad about someone else’s situation—this was compassion at work. And it came from their hearts.
I’m convinced my children had hearts that cared for those fatherless kids. Probably part of that developed when we adopted our youngest child …
The “paper pregnancy” took about twenty months, and we spent a considerable time talking and praying about our reasons for adopting. We already had five biological children, so it wasn’t like we couldn’t have tried for another “flesh and blood” baby. Instead, Dena and I were moved to reach out to a child who had no realistic opportunity to have a reasonably normal life. After seeing the Russian orphanages and realizing our son was literally one in a million, we were convinced we made a good decision. We’ve wondered if we should pursue another adoption. Zane’s special needs, however, have been significant, so we’ve ruled that option out.
The compassion we saw in our kids on that trip to Peru came out in some unexpected ways. The most touching was a week or two after we returned, when our eleven-year-old daughter announced to us that our family should expand. Reflecting on her recent experience at Casa Luz, Tauvi blurted out, “I think we should adopt Ezekiel.”
“Excuse me,” I said. “What did you say?”
“I think we should adopt Ezekiel, because he was cute, and I think he needs a family, too.”
“Well, honey, that is sweet, and I hope you’ll pray about that,” I said. “We’re pretty maxed out with Zane’s needs and all the activities for the rest of you kids. But if God tells us to adopt, we will.”
I had hoped my “pray about that” admonition would help Tauvi understand there’s a lot to adoption (she was only five when her younger brother came into our family). A month or so later, I knew what was in her heart when a friend at church approached me.
“So, your family is expanding? That’s exciting!”
“‘Scuse me, Jeff?”
“When we take prayer requests in Sunday school class, your daughter prays for a boy in Peru named Ezekiel. So when are you bringing him home?”
“We’re not convinced yet that we’ll be adopting Ezekiel. But we are praying …”
I realized Tauvi’s heart was truly full of compassion. And I can get a bit emotional as I think that she’d care enough to pray on a consistent basis (that’s tough for middle-school kids), and that she’d be willing to give up some things to see Ezekiel become part of a “forever family.”
That’s compassion, and if my children see others and want to help, they’re really successful in my eyes.
THE SUCCESS OF love is in the loving—it is not in the result of loving. Of course it is natural in love to want the best for the other person, but whether it turns out that way or not does not determine the value of what we have done.
—MOTHER TERESA
If you feel overwhelmed as a first-time dad by the things we’ve considered in this chapter, relax. You’ve got a lot of time to build your child’s character. There will be plenty of opportunities to teach and model the kind of character you want to see in your little boy or girl.
The process of imparting character to your child is organic—it isn’t a program so much as an approach to life that involves living out your convictions and involving your child in your world. Live out your beliefs in such a way that your kid sees what’s going on (kids pick up on almost everything)!
My friend James and his wife, Joan, live a life that is consistent, caring, and pretty remarkable. They invite needy individuals into their home for months at a time. They live without debt so they can contribute to Christian causes. In a world of conspicuous consumption, they buy secondhand. They sold most of what they had to serve in Scotland as missionaries.
James’s children have learned firsthand about other cultures, living frugally, serving people, and being selfless—because they see their dad and mom choosing those values daily. His kids, now young adults, reflect their father’s character because through the years they saw him modeling a set of deeply held beliefs. They’re just practicing what he preaches and lives.
Ferdinand Magellan was a Portuguese navigator who left his native land and petitioned Charles V and Cardinal Jimenez of Spain to commission him for a risky and bold expedition. Magellan suggested he would find a route to the Moluccas around the southern coast of America, instead of the usual, much longer route around the Cape of Good Hope.
The trip proved excruciatingly difficult. Many of those under his charge demanded they return to Spain. He held firm, assuring them of their coming success. The crew grew increasingly agitated. A mutiny seemed inevitable. For three months and twenty days, Magellan and his fleet sailed without sight of land. Provisions dwindled. He finally caught sight of the Ladrones, and just over a week later discovered the Philippines.
Writing in his book The Call, Os Guinness reflects on the remarkable incident:
Magellan was not tall, handsome, nor physically impressive in any way. He had no particular social status. Whatever advantages he might have lacked in one area or another, he made up for with one thing: He was a dreamer fired by an inner vision …
He faced many difficulties and failures, the types of circumstances that would have stopped lesser men. Whatever happened, Magellan’s response was always, “Sail on, sail on!” He never flinched. It was always, “Sail on, sail on!” Magellan’s character was far from perfect … but in his singlemindedness, his unflinching conviction, his resolute indifference either to approval or rejection, and his stubborn defiance of discouragement, defeat, and death, Magellan demonstrated the fortitude of a life in focus.12
This is a worthy theme for life: Regardless of the situations we face, let us, as fathers commissioned to help our children succeed, move with courage and conviction and “run the race set before us”!
Heroes Among Us, by Jim Ryun (Destiny Image).
Amazing Grace Audiobook, by Dave Arnold, Paul McCusker (Focus on the Family).
Books That Build Character: A Guide to Teaching Your Child Moral Values Through Stories, by William Kilpatrick (Simon & Schuster Trade).