In Secret

It was Palm Sunday, and I had taken my son with me to church. I had tried in the past to get him to stay in kids' church while I attend in the main service or sanctuary, but I had been unsuccessful. However, this time, I knew things would be different.

I went inside and saw one of the parents of one of his classmates. I knew right away that he would be fine because he would have someone else in the class that he recognized. Then, we saw another one of his classmates! This was all going so great! He was sure to have fun in kids' church today.

I checked him in and walked him to his class. That was when I realized everything was not going to be alright.

He started wining and pulling back immediately. His wining then turned into screaming. "Houston, we have a problem," I thought. I took him to the side and gently began talking with him. I did my best with him until I was finally able to calm him down.

While I was doing my Daddy thing, the classroom teacher was coaching me, "You can just leave him and see how he does. Usually they calm down. But if for some reason he doesn't, we'll text you to come and pick him back up." That wasn't sounding like a good idea at the moment. I took my time and really thought about it.

I felt like King Leonidas right before he kicked the Persian messengers into the pit. I had a heightened sense of things. Then, while he was clam, I picked him up and handed him to the classroom teacher. He started screaming, "Daddy! Daddy! No!" You would have had to be there to hear the desperation in his voice. You would have had to be there to see the tears in his eyes. But I had to try. I had to walk away. I knew it was important for his development.

If you had been there, you would have seen a strong Daddy do the unthinkable. You would have seen as I did what was best for my son. You would have seen me walk away, proud and tall. You would have seen a confident Dad, who maintained his poise amidst the painful cries from his son. If you had been there that day, you would have seen a Daddy walk very calmly into the men's restroom. If you would have continued to follow that Dad, you would have seen him walk into the bathroom stall on the end and you would have seen the door close behind him. But what you would not have seen would have been when this Daddy would have leaned back against the stall door, lower his head, and begin to weep. You would not have seen the internal struggle, the inward wrestling that occurred as this Dad tried to convince himself that he was doing the right thing. You would have never seen this Dad's heart be ripped in two. You would not have heard the silent cries or the desperate prayer that was said under his breath.

You would have only seen this Daddy's shoes remain in one place for only a minute or two. Then you would have seen the stall door open again, as this Dad would have walked out and returned to the main service.

We all have our moments in secret where we show just how fragile we truly are, even if it's only to ourselves and God. As Dads, we're not heartless. We do care. We have emotions too. We have feelings. We don't want to see our children experience hurt or pain, but we also know that everything will be okay. We dig down deep and find the strength within ourselves to make sure we're raising our children properly and effectively. Here's to you, Dad. Wherever your secret place is that you are free to take your armor off, lay down your weapons, and reveal your wounds, just know that it's okay to be real some times. We'll see you in a couple of minutes when you come out of that place. And we know you'll be suited back up and ready to continue the battle.