becoming a light-hearted man in a heavy-hearted world

Becoming like Jesus is as much as about having a relaxed and joyful heart as it is about believing and doing the right thing, as much about proper energy as about proper truth.

Ronald Rolheiser

These things I have spoken to you so that My joy may be in you, and that your joy may be made full.

Jesus

It’s 9.30 a.m. and I am sitting in a valley overlooking the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon.

I am gathered around a campfire with a group of dads and daughters who have ridden in from Utah on a Wilderness trip. Call it a grown-up version of the Dangerous Kids Club.

It’s the last day of a four-day ride during which we have laughed together, feasted like kings, camped on the edge of the Grand Canyon, been struck by the beauty of creation, and slept on the hard earth with deflated air mattresses. We’ve been covered in mud, stuck in the snow, and driven down roads barely worthy of that name. 

Now, we are in the final session before we head home. Back to our phones, back to business, back to the world that slowly erodes our hearts with stress. 

The dads and daughters circle up in an effort to understand the vision behind the trip and the reason we have invested the time, travel, and expenses to be here. Building a bond of love between us. One by one, we go around the group and answer two simple questions. 

What do you like about your Dad?
What do you like about your daughter?

Now, you have to assume that this is going to be a weep fest. It definitely is. 

Hardly any of the dads could keep it together when their daughters said what they loved about them. Some couldn’t even get the words out through the tears. So often, we go through life wondering if we are truly loved. It hits with violent force when it’s finally spoken out loud.

As moving as this time was, I began to notice a pattern emerge as we moved around the circle. This pattern is not surprising, but one that is so often buried in the midst of our broken and busy world. It was what the daughters said about their dads.

There were the things you would expect in a moment like this. 

"You care for me." "You love me."  "You make me feel safe."

Simple words, but healing balm for a dad’s heart.

But here is what really began to stand out. Two things that came up over and over again.

"You play with me."
"You have a sense of adventure."

Adventure and play. These were what the girls were most grateful for.

In all the talks I have heard for men, these rarely make the list.

We talk about being honest men.
We talk about taking responsibility.
We talk about integrity.
We talk about initiative.

But adventure and play? We rarely talk about that.

I think that’s because adventure and play seem like luxuries for us. They seem almost irresponsible for serious men like us. Men who have to keep commitments, men who have to provide, men who have to grind things out so the lights stay on. 

If we are not careful, though, all this commitment and responsibility drip into our hearts until they begin to harden. 

We have weary hearts.
We have cynical hearts.
We have heavy hearts.

…and there is a danger in this.

Heavy-hearted men will drag their kids into their own stress.
Heavy-hearted men will be too busy for adventure. 
Heavy-hearted men will watch while the kids play by themselves.

Stuart Brown says, "When we stop playing, we start dying."

Adventure and play may turn out to be necessities and not luxuries after all. 

Ronald Rolheiser notes with piercing insight, "In Western culture, the joyous shouting of children often irritates us because it interferes with our depression. That is why we have invented a term, hyperactivity, so that we can, in good conscience, sedate the spontaneous joy in many of our children."

I don’t want to sedate joy; I want to cultivate it.

The disciples struggled with this, too. They pushed the children away who came to Jesus for blessing, but Jesus rebuked them, scooped the little ones into His lap, and blessed them. The children found out that Jesus was a light-hearted man. 

As I listened to these daughters share about their dads, a quiet resolve began to rise within me.

I want to be a light-hearted man. 
A man who can laugh and play. 
A man with a glint of adventure in his eye.
A man with a joyful heart.

I have to cultivate this because it goes against my instincts.

I am a serious man, an intense man, a critical man. 
I am a man with a burden, a vocation, and a call. 
This often means that I am an unavailable man, a busy man, a distracted man. 

But I am resolved to become a light-hearted man.

___________________

With some nervousness, it was my daughter's turn to share.

What would she say about me, watching me as her dad for these 21 years?
What would she love about her father standing before her?

Her answer brought me to tears.

"I love your sense of joy and wonder."
"I love your gratitude for life."

As we drove back home, racing a storm all the way to Utah, my daughter beside me, I prayed for more grace to follow Jesus well. I prayed that I would follow Him more closely and that I would know in increasing measure that His yoke is easy and His burden is light.

Here’s to becoming light-hearted men in a heavy-hearted world.

Men of adventure and play.

Thanks for reading.

Cheers.

Jon.