Being a dad

As I have been reading through my sibling's blogs lately, I have been reliving my days as a parent with young children. Part of me misses those days but a large part of me does not. They were hard. Excrusiatingly hard sometimes. Michelle and I chose to have a large family (by today's standards) and are very grateful for the 6 children we have but it has been very challenging at times.
Perhaps the hardest time for me as a father was the month of August, 1997. Michelle was pregnant with Brenden (our fourth child in as many years) and on forced bed rest in the hospital. I was a single parent trying to work, keep the apartment clean, the boys fed, church assignments fulfilled, etc... I was extremely tired and stressed out. One night, I was taking the boys to go see Michelle at the hospital and our car died on I-15. Here I was, on the freeway with no transportation and three boys ages 4, 2, and 1 looking up at me wondering what was going on. Michelle had been in the hospital for three weeks and I was as wrung out as I had ever been. I remember the feeling of anger and hopelessness that came over me. It was as close as I have ever gotten to shaking my fist at heaven. I would like to say a miracle happened and the car started and we got back on our way but that is not what happened. The Lord rarely works that way. Instead, he works through the goodness of other people. A man stopped and helped me push the car to the nearest off ramp where I was able to put the car in neutral and coast about a 3/4 a mile to find a place to park the car. I then got the boys out and we walked the rest of the way to the hospital. The boys were overjoyed to see Michelle, I was just happy to sit down. My point in all of this is that life is hard and always will be. We will be tried and tested. Our job is to cheerfully endure each trial (although I was not cheerfully enduring that one) that we may prove ourselves to God. Each trial eventually ends and how we feel about ourselves afterwards is largely dependant on how we weathered the storm. Back to my siblings. As I read their blogs, I am reminded of various trials as a parent I have experienced. Sometimes I laugh at their exasperation (that would be the mean, I-told-you-so part of my personality that I try to keep under wraps) but most times I fully empathize. Now, with teenagers, I am faced with a whole new set of trials that often times make me wish I was back with three little boys in a broken down car on the freeway. At least then they believed that I could do no wrong. Now they know better. Some day they will understand how much I love them and that being a dad is my favorite thing in the world.