Confessions from Dad: Time Doesn't Have to Fly

This post is from guest contributor Jason Helveston, Lead Pastor of Dwell Christian Church in San Jose, California. He and his Michigander wife have a young daughter and a son due in November. Jason blogs regularly at jasonhelveston.com and you can follow him on Twitter: @JasonHelveston.

Honestly I was totally overwhelmed. About a month away from my daughter’s birth I sat at a park, reading. But my literature of choice was not helping my anxiety. It's a complex enough reality to become a dad. Am I right? Think about it. Who do I think I am to say, “you know what, I’m really good at this life thing … why don’t I make a brand new human and then be completely responsible for her health, education, and general development.” I needed no additional convincing. I knew I was stepping into uncharted territory. Obviously I wasn’t going to be the first dad on planet earth. I get that. But doesn’t it feel like that? When it’s your first time doing anything of significance, there is a strange sense that maybe, just maybe this is the very first time anyone has done it. 

So I sought a bit of solace from a book, Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters. That’s what we’re supposed to do right? But like I said, the book wasn’t much help. I mean it was considerably informative, interesting, and gave some great insight into a multitude of research on the unique relationship between dads and daughters. But that was just the problem. I found out that dads have extraordinary influence over their daughters … the way our girls speak … the way they dress … the way they think about the world, their bodies, and their friends.

I sat in that park. 

For about an hour. 

Totally overwhelmed.

Just a couple of days ago my daughter and I were taking a walk. She’s nearly two years old now. I had a cup of coffee and turned off my phone. She was enjoying some apple juice. And as we walked down the sidewalk together we were holding hands. Every now and then she would pull away and play with a pile of leaves or fumble with a piece of paper she found on the sidewalk or stare at something interesting written on the side of a building. (Okay, it was graffiti.) Every few moments I said, "I love you, Glori". Each time she responded with here trademark, “I you”. Our walk seemed to go in slow motion, like it was all day long. In actuality our walk took about sixty minutes. 

As I sat in the park two old adages every seasoned parent seems to recite each time they see a young parent like were stuck in my mind– "it goes by so fast” and “I sure miss those days". Great! Not only did I have a ton of stuff to communicate and cultivate in my then unborn daughter, but the time I had to do all of this was going to fly by! But as I walked down the street with my girl I was haunted by a completely different thought. It felt like a defiantly and rebellious idea … this time doesn’t have to fly. Time can be tamed with a silent phone, a box of juice, a cup of coffee, and a pile of leaves. Yes, it is a massive responsibility. Yes, I need to read more books. Yes, one day she will move out. But my daughter isn’t a final exam I have to take next week. She’s just the girl I get to take on another walk next week. Something I had done many times before. 

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