Father Captures Daughter Growing Up Every Week of Her Life

Photographer Frans Hofmeester captures a small piece of footage of his daughter Lotte every week. And he recently took the last 14 years’ worth of this and created a video that shows his daughter grow up right before our eyes. Take a look...

Faith is a Vision of Reality, Not Mere Sentiment.

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.

“Here’s my heart Lord, take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above.”

Every night before we put my daughter and son to bed we sing a song. Then we pray. Then I recite a specific blessing for each of them which I wrote before they were born. Recently my daughter has been picking up our routine and has started mumbling sounds faintly similar to the lyrics of our song. When we pray she usually bows her head and says “amen” when we’re done. And after her blessing she pulls out her pacifier, kisses me, and says “I you” (translation: I love you). Now … she’s not even two yet so I realize the details of my Christian faith woven through the song, prayer, and blessing are mostly over her head, let alone her three month old brother. But she’s obviously picking up on something.

“Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing” was written by a pastor named Robert Robinson in 1757. Its lyrics are loosely based on the admittedly obscure passage found in 1 Samuel 7:12. It reads “then Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen and called its name Ebenezer; for he said “Till now the Lord has helped us”. Aside from the obvious reference to Mr. Scrooge this passage whispers one of the meta themes of Scripture–God rescues people.

As far as I can tell in the ancient world an ebenezer stone quite literally meant “stone of help”. But within this context it obviously is commemorating a specific kind of help from a specific person; namely God. Most think this specific stone was meant to be a reminder of God’s help through a recent victorious battle over the Philistines. The stone was meant to remind the current and future generations of who God was and what he had done for his people. It was meant to foster belief in Samuel’s life and in the lives of those who came after him. Suffice to say, Samuel’s faith was about something that actually happened and he wanted everyone to know about it.

The faithfulness of God through this specific battle with the ancient Philistines is the very same faithfulness I consider and remember when we sing to my kids at bedtime. As God rescued his people from the brink of destruction, so God has rescued me and my wife. To be sure we haven’t set up a stone between San Francisco and San Jose (though I’ve been tempted to do so more than once), but we each have stories commemorating our own spiritual liberation. And we are happy and even compelled to share these stores with our children, if but through a song.

I’ve often wondered what future generations thought about Samuel’s stone. At best I imagine they saw this “stone of help” and were pointed to God’s faithfulness and transformational power; their faith deepened or awakened anew. Others I’m sure were less impressed. Maybe the sentiment of it all was understood, but the stone for them would mean little more than personal sentimentality. It would represent one person’s or one group’s thoughts of the divine … but that’s all. The story would be isolated for a particular person or people for a particular time. It would be up to this person to discover faith for themselves free from the contractions of their ancestors experiences and religious constitutions.

Today I think many westerners embody the latter disposition. When other parents–friends of ours–discover or consider the idea that my wife and I are raising our children to know the Bible, love Jesus, and pray to God we get mixed reviews. Since I’m a pastor we often get a sort of “it figures” look followed closely by a subject change. But sometimes, when I’ve had the opportunity to enter into a deeper conversation I’ve heard many say the same thing. With respect, they have shared with me their hesitation to teach their own children their specific faith (or faiths) because they want their kids to choose their own path. Essentially what I hear them saying is their ebenezer stone is their ebenezer stone. Their religious experience and beliefs are customized just for them. I think I understand a bit about where they’re coming from. We don’t want to manipulate our children. We don’t want to coerce them. We don’t want our kids to become a Christian, Mormon, Buddhist, Scientologist, and so on … just because we are.

Unwittingly (perhaps) this progressive concept of faith and spirituality has pulled the rug out from under religion as a whole. Our collective intention has been to give equal credence to every single faith, religion, and worldview. However by truncating faith and limiting its effects to the individual we have actually belittled all faith. By telling our children that all faiths are possible and powerful and personal we have also told them that no faith is really true. That means when we invite our kids to choose their own path we are assuming no path leads to reality. And if as a society we have decided that no spiritual disposition leads to reality then we have in fact enforced a spiritual disposition upon everyone, to believe just that … no faith is actually real or true or viable. When we just tell our children it’s up to them to decided, in actuality we’ve only left one option on the table.

But why don’t we feel the same way about letting our toddlers play in the street?

Why don’t we feel this way about our kids sharing their toys or eating their veggies?

Why don’t we let our kids choose when they go to bed or what traffic laws they follow when they turn sixteen?

In all of these areas and more we are happy to tell our children what we think and share what we’ve experienced and even instruct them to follower our path and voice.

The difference is our concept of reality. Most of the time we don’t think religion or faith speak to ultimate reality, only our own. Thus spirituality has been relegated to a customizable buffet line of sorts. It has become viewed as a practice or habit which is assumed to be so tailor-made for the individual that corporate training, teaching, and childrearing is deemed illogical if not cruel and manipulative.

God really saved Israel or he didn’t.

God really saved me or he didn’t.

God will really save my kids or he won’t.

And that’s why we sing. That’s why we pray. That’s why I bless my son and daughter. That’s why I tell them how Jesus rescued me. That’s why we tell them the story of Jesus in all we do and say and watch on Netflix. The only way my kids' faith in anything will ever be real is if I communicate that faith is a vision of reality, not mere sentiment.

Bedtime is one stone of help my wife and I want to leave for our children. It’s a time of peace and love we hope will point them to the ultimate peace and love of Jesus. But at the end of the day they will need an experience that is all their own. Because after all, Israel wasn’t going to win the next battle just because God helped them with the last one. Another stone would need to be laid down for each subsequent generation.

The Lord has helped us. And he will also need to help them. I hope that’s what my daughter is picking up on.

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Confessions from Dad: Date Night at Home

This post is from guest contributor Joshua Reich, Pastor of Preaching & Vision at Revolution Church in Tucson, AZ. He and his wife , Katie (follow her on twitter @KatieReich), have 5 kids, 4 boys and a girl. Joshua blogs regularly at joshuareich.org and you can follow him on Twitter: @JoshuaReich.

Unless you have free babysitting every week, there is a good chance at some point you will have a date night at home. Often, this feels like a letdown for a couple because there is something fun and exciting about going out. There is something freeing about someone else putting your kids down. For Katie and I, most of our date nights are at home after the kids go to bed. 

Here are a few ways we’ve made those special:

Have a plan. Nothing hurts date night more than having no plan. In the same way that you plan going out, plan what it will look like at home. What will you eat, who is doing what, what time will things get started. You may have to be more intentional about the plan for date night at home because you are at home.

Stay dressed up. Don’t get into your pajama pants. Nothing shuts your brain down more at the end of a long day like getting into comfortable clothes. Stay dressed up. Wear what you would wear if you were going out.

No electronics. The fastest way to kill most date nights is turning on the TV, no checking out Facebook or Twitter or your email. Concentrate on each other.

Plan a fun meal. It doesn’t have to be expensive or a feast, but something special. Something you wouldn’t normally eat. Katie and I love to try new recipes, so we’re always searching. Katie uses this blog a lot for our meal plans and we’ve found a ton of recipes that have been great for date night on this site.

Eat with your kids. At home, we do an appetizer while our kids eat so that we can still eat dinner with them, talk with them about their day and it helps to hold us over until we eat.

Know who will cook and who will put the kids down. It might be more relaxing for your wife to cook. She may want you to handle the kids, or vice versa. Whatever it is, communicate that and stick to it.

Pick a night you are awake for. There are certain nights you are more alert and awake than others. Find that night and do date night on that night. If you have a long day on Tuesday, don’t do date night that night. Maximize the night where your energy levels are highest. I find knowing which night date night will be helps me to be mentally prepared for it.

What would you add to make date night at home just as good as going out?


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Confessions from Dad: Evil Never Really Wins

About a week ago I sat down with a friend who was devastated and overwhelmed. He had just received news that his 3 year old son had been diagnosed with cancer and they had no conclusive plan to remedy the foreseeable outcome; terminal.

He was angry and broken.
He wanted answers.
Wouldn't you?

News like this seems to come all too often these days and stories like this are part of our everyday life. Heartache isn't prejudge and it doesn't just pencil you in after the holidays! Pain is an absolute in being human and no one has immunity. We cannot avoid pain, but we can spend a lifetime trying to outrun it.

A few days ago I received word that a friend of ours, Isaac Hunter, had taken his own life. Some articles were written thereafter and, because of his status, much was made ado about the sensationalism of the circumstances surrounding his passing. As I looked at headlines and began to mourn the realness of it, one thought kept piercing into my heart... That could easily be me? 

He was a Husband, Father, Son, Brother, Cousin, Pastor, Friend, Man, Child of God living within a world where pain is very real and people are imperfect. Is that really any different for any of us? 

We have doubts. We have fears. We wonder and question, in tragedy; what good will come from this? We shout to the heavens asking, "Why? Why now?" Evil looks to corrupt us into buying that when pain exists, good will never come. But evil is a fat, fickle liar!!!

Maybe today you're struggling to see through clouds of doubt and injustice. We all do. For Isaac that struggle is over. And we wrestle with that while on this side of heaven.

Maybe your story won't be reconciled in the tangibles. From the deepest, most intimate space in my heart I plead with you... evil never really wins! Don't give up! With so much pain wandering around looking for residence in our hearts, it can feel like evil has the upper hand. But it doesn't and never will.

The advent of Christ was a season not unlike this. There were 400 years of silence before God spoke through a baby's cry. People were hurting and waiting to hear from God. They were searching for refuge and rescue. Aren't we all! God did not let them down nor did He give up on them in their mourning. You see, though our world remains broken, there will come a day that this will pass. The pain, the suffering, and the thousands of tears. We are promised a day in which we'll experience the fullness of God's grace, mercy and love.

So until then, even if you find yourself running from the pain or about to give up, God's love for you will never be outrun. Love always wins in the end.

"Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance." 1 Cor 13:7

“Pain is inevitable, but misery is optional. We cannot avoid pain, but we can avoid joy.” Tim Hassel


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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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