Dear Christian Dad,

There aren’t very many places for a letter like this to start, but of the places available, I have to start with this: These words won't be coming from someone with a good example for a Father, because I never had a Dad. If someone who had a Father growing up, either a good Father or a bad one, and decided to write a letter to Fathers, the words to follow would be vastly different from the ones you are about to read. 

Growing up, I wish I did have a father. I truly do. I have to point that out, because when I was a teenager, as teenagers are apt to do, I was adamant that “I don't need or want a father.” In fact, any lack of fatherhood, for teenage Jacob Marchitell, was just a really, really good reason to be more “me”. To give in, to all of those towering thoughts and emotions that a teenage boy could have. To let loose the anger, the angst, the rambunctiousness, and indulgence of a boy without a Father. Honestly, can you think of a better excuse? 

So, to get on with it, the words you’ll be reading aren't from some specialist in the topic of fatherhood. I now have three of my own children, and have failed in ways my Father never had. Which sounds odd, I know, but an absent father can’t lose their temper. An absent Father can’t break a promise. An absent Father will never be able to fail in the same ways that a present Father does. So yes, I have failed my children in ways my own Father never failed me. But to flirt with my own ego, (you’ll notice I put my failures first) I have succeeded in a multitude of ways that my Father never did. Primarily, I wa actually here when my children needed me. Every other item that could be on such a list, will more than likely all fall within the category of simply “Being Present”.

I prefaced this letter in such a way because every time I hear of someone telling me how I should or shouldn't be a Dad, I automatically shove my weakness and faults down deep, ignore them as efficiently as possible, and question their credentials. I am no one of importance that other Fathers should listen to. Having no Father of my own, and my own failures as a Father lying in wait behind my waking mind, I questioned if I should even write a letter such as this; but, to quote my mother, and thus give you any credentials I have to speak on fatherhood: “Your own Father may have failed you, but you have a heavenly one that never will.”

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Fellow Christian Father, what are you doing to help your children forward? What actions are you taking to propel them onward? To prepare them for the future beyond your walls, beyond your rules? Does it start and end with nothing but Christian niceties? Be polite, be nice, be this be that be this be that. If all of your preparations are concerned with external behavior sculpting, then you are ignoring the internal heart sculpting necessary to raise someone up behind you. To raise not only your children, but to raise a generation. To point them to the stars that are so very within their reach, and ask them to tell you about what they feel like when they lay their hands upon them.

Perhaps, you may be thinking, your children are young. Too young, you will say, to be thinking of how to send them into the World, let alone prepare them for the battlefield of the future that awaits. “They eat, play, and sleep. What could I possibly be doing to prepare them?”

Well, do they play with you, or do they play with an ipad? Not that technology is evil (why it has such a “pull”, deserves its own letter, at another time) but do you relegate the play you are commanded to give to your children by God, to something or someone else? “What? God commands us to play with our children?” Yes. Raising them in the fear and admonition of the Lord (Eph. 6:4) isn't a fine-edged border to put around the tying of shoes, the memorizing of Bible Verses, the quadratic formula, what poetry is, or how best to mud a drywall seam. Yes, it is your responsibility to teach your children these things, but playing with your children is unavoidably a part of raising them in the ways of the Lord.

They should have friends to build an understanding of how societal relationships work, to let their iron be sharpened by the iron of their friends, yes, but if you don’t play with your children, then you are failing them. Get down on the ground, and play. Build a castle and build a dragon. Draw a sunset on an ocean you've never seen, and a pirate ship filled with cannons and swords. Build a fort, fill it with your imagination, and then let your child’s imagination go to war with it. Pick up a plastic Unicorn, fly it over the Sun, and let the Princess of the Milky Way ride into the neighboring Kingdom on a peace mission.

Show the child who doesn't even reach your waist, how to perform an Arm-Bar.

“Why?” Because it's fun, that's why.

“But it's rough, and rowdy!” Yes, that's why I used it as an example.

God made fathers to be rough and rowdy. To show them, not teach them, how to bundle the pillow into one corner before you swing it by its opposite. To lay your daughter across your chest, bench press her, swing her wide and tickle her till she calls for mercy.

Fathers should be rough and rowdy with their children to give them a chance to challenge themselves, against someone who loves them.

Can you imagine what it would be like if the first place your child meets opposition…is from someone who doesn't love them? How will they respond? What will they do? When they find themselves in the situations of this life where they are forced to butt heads, lock horns, draw swords, and engage with an adversary, what will they do? What mental and emotional tools will they have to call upon, when they are challenged by someone who doesn't care about them? That is your job, Christian Father. Your duty. Your responsibility. To forge and form and hammer and shape and sharpen the tools your children will find to be necessary when living a life for the glory of God. 

Play rough with your children. Throw them into the air, higher than their Grandmother finds to be safe. Teach them how to throw a punch, how to take a punch, and when they each need to happen. Bodyslam them into a pile of cushions, or a pile of leaves. Dunk them in the pool, and make them all have to team up to see if they can dunk you, and don't let them. Show them how to make the perfect snowball, and then let them feel why it's the perfect snowball. Build bike ramps and sled ramps, and lay down under them while they take flight. Show them how to start a fire, gut a Deer, hammer a nail, and execute a choke hold. Be rough and rowdy with your children.

When my oldest son, who is now 18 and headed off to his own future, was only two years old, he woke up in the middle of the night, afraid of monsters. These monsters were of a peculiar sort, in that they didn't live under the bed or in the closet, these ones lived outside. His bedroom had a large window that looked out on to our front yard, and there be where monsters lived. So, like the Father I wished I had, I showed him what to do. I didn't tell him it was imaginary. I didn't lie and say “monsters aren’t real.” I picked him up, held him tight to my chest, walked over to that window. The deep black of the night, stretched out before him, filled his blue eyes. We stood a few inches away from the glass as I squeezed him tight and asked; “Where are they? Point them out.” His little finger, creased at every joint, timidly pointed to place in the yard, an especially dark corner far from the reach of the moonlight. “What do we do to monsters? We kill them.” I showed him how to make a gun with his thumb and forefinger, and there, on that cold and dark night, from the safety of a warm and loving home, a Father and Son slew the monsters that threatened their family.

Monsters are real, my Brother in Christ. The Devil is real, and his yellowed nails do point to where he sends the demons that fell with him. Monsters are real. They take shape as Nations, as Governments. As Rapists, Kidnappers, Murderers. They take shape within places children were once thought to be safe, and they take shape, sometimes, within their very homes. We live in a World with Dragons, and are called to raise Dragon Slayers.

We do this by playing with them. By wrestling till they tap out, and teaching them how to make you tap. By challenging them to make a bigger cannonball splash than you. By hiking, in the rain. By throwing, by catching. By evading and attacking the Aliens that have come to Earth and are in hot pursuit of your minivan, and it is only with erratic movements and missile launchers that you are able to reach the safety of your two car Space Port.

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When Fathers play rough with their children,

they are creating people well suited for drawing the blood of dragons.

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I am normally not one for nuance, but I feel that the opportunity to contort my words is such that I should shake some out. Just a pinch though.

Yes a Father should be rough with his children, I’ll defend that till I die. In fact, here's a little bit of a defense to wet your appetite in preparation of dismissing my nuance; A father that isn't rough with his children, is, either voluntarily or otherwise, helping them along one of two paths.

First, you're turning your child into a wimp. You give them no opposition, no challenge, no fight, and when they leave your nest they will go into a World that will turn them into just as big of a push over as you are.

Second, you're turning your child into a bully. You're giving them no one and nothing bigger and stronger than they are, and when they leave your nest they believe themselves to be as self-important and untouchable as you believe yourself to be.

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If you're still with me, here's that nuance I promised. 

Be rough with your children, yes, but understand that they are still children. They have limits that you should push and stretch, yes, but their limits are inevitably going to be far lower than you expect them to be. This is one of the ways that God sanctifies fathers. By giving them children that test their own limits. In fact, we could go so far as to rightly say that though it may feel as if God was rough with you, everything He has so graciously allowed you to live through, was Him being gentle and lowly with you. Did it feel rough to you? How do you know He was, in fact, being gentle? Because of how deeply you know Him and how deeply you feel HIs love towards you. Does it feel too rough for your child? How do they know that you were, in fact, being gentle? Because how deeply they know you and how deeply they feel your love towards them.

As I’m sure you have, and as I have presented it, “being rough with your children” has called to your mind something physical. I even said to wrestle with them. But this isn't the only way in which you should be rough. Challenge their thinking. When they're young, do it by telling them that you aren't really a human, but instead you are an Alligator. In fact, you can prove you are an Alligator because you have two eyes, and a mouth, and you know how to swim; then let them point out to you that this isn't what makes a Gator a Gator. When they get older, have more and more mature mental challenges for them. Ask them if beauty is objective or subjective, take the opposite stance, and defend it. If their argument has holes, point them out. If it doesn't, poke holes in it. Teach them how to defend the faith, by opposing them. Can you imagine what it would be like, if the first place your child meets opposition, is from someone who doesn't love them?

As a last point of nuance, while there are commonalities in how we as Fathers ought to be rough with our children, there is an obvious point of difference. That single point of difference, that will always manifest, comes about when you are raising a Son, or raising a Daughter. Catch snakes with your sons, the long slimy kind, right behind the head; and drink tea with your daughters, make sure to keep your pinky up. 

Wrestle with your Sons, more roughly than you would your Daughters. When he taps out, keep him in your grip and talk him through how to escape. When your Daughter taps out, you let go, and tell her how she could have escaped. When your Son walks around the corner, you plant a dart in his forehead and teach him how to check the corners when he enters a room. When your Daughter stands before you, you take her by the hand and lead her in a dance as if your living room were the grandest Hall in the grandest Castle.

Take your Sons to stand outside of the modern day Auschwitz that is Planned Parenthood, showing them what Men are called to do. Let them see you be uncompromising in your faith, in your argumentation, in your words and deeds, to the bleakest blood soaked corners of a society thirsty for the death of the unborn. Let them see you be kind and bold, at the same time, towards women bent on killing their children.

Take your Daughters with you when you are caring for someone in need. Let them see your care and concern for the small, the confused, the lonely, the alone. Bring her on a date, open the door for her, and listen to her words. Tell her, every single day, how incredibly and amazingly beautiful she is. Imagine if the first time she hears how beautiful she actually is…it’s from a man that doesn't love her. Show your daughter what a Godly man is, because in less years than you want, she will be looking for one.

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If that wasn’t enough nuance for you, and you feel as if there are words that need to be volleyed in my direction, then I encourage you to loose your arrows that I may fight in the shade.

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There can be, and has been, full books, libraries even, on the topic being a Father. And rightly so. This is something, in our current Society, that is sorely lacking. There is a deep and profound absence of Fathers, and this I can personally attest to. Where are the men in our World? Where are the Fathers, the Dads? Where are those who will stand at the front of the Battle, breaking their back and breaking their heart, so that the pieces of each can be used to build something great for their children? Where are the selfless and hungry Fathers, who push their children? Who challenge their children. Who show them, with their bodies and with their minds, how and when to fight. Who refuse to let the boiling fecal matter of a culture we have been forced to swim through, be the standard for how life ought to be lived, and instead do all they can to be a better man.

Fathers, do you pray to be a better Father? Do you admit, out loud, to the faces of the Children you have sinned against, that you have, in fact, sinned? Or do you leave it unsaid, ignorantly assuming that your Children will know you are sorry because you gave them a hug or bought them some new toy? Do you pray to be a better Father? A better Man? Do you want to be a better Man? Do you want more for your children than where your own life has brought you? Do you want to see your own weaknesses, your own faults, your own sins, exemplified in the lives of your Children? Do you want them to look up to you as someone to be like when they grow up? Do you want them to be better than you ever were? Draw closer to God than you ever have? Read more Books than you, climb more Mountains than you, create better art than you ever have, evangelize more than you have, and become someone to whom you yourself look to as an example of what a person can be?

Will your Daughter be a better Mother than your Wife was? Will she fall for the first man whose honey-scented words betray the urine-stains on his heart? Will they love their Husbands? Submit to them? Are they going to be the kind of Mother to love their children more than themselves? Here and now, are they a blessing to those around them, or a headache? Oh Christian Dads, your Daughters will soon leave the safety of your Castle, of your Kingdom, and they will find for themselves a man just like you.

Will your Son be a better Father than you were? Will he lose his temper as often as you have? Will he break as many promises? Will he treat his Wife and his Daughter, better than you treated yours? Will he stand firm in the faith, never wavering? Will he loudly proclaim the truths of who Jesus Christ is and what He has done, to a World that hates Him and hates them? Here and now, is your son hard to control, or uncontrollable? Is your Son a loud and rowdy Knight, looking for a Princess to save and a Dragon to slay? Because this World has both.

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If these words have struck true, in whole or in part, then I would encourage you to take action. I would encourage you to be a better Father, a better Dad. To wrestle with your children, to be rowdy, to be rough, to raise Children that will fight the World to save the World. To raise Children that will themselves create works of beauty and art, instead of consuming what the dopamine addicted masses feed us through the screens in our pockets. Raise Children who raise World leaders, so that when their own time comes to join you in the grave you have long since embraced, they can smile on the future you helped create for their Grandchildren.

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When you join your Grandparents beneath the ground you learned to walk on, and your Grandchildren are left with the World that you left to their Parents…what kind of World will it be? For that is what you are doing, dear Christian Dad. You aren't raising children, you're raising adults. You're raising Fathers, raising Mothers. You wrestle with Presidents and Pastors. Your living room dance is with a Mother, with a Wife. You challenge Scientists and Scholars, Artists and Adventurers. Missionaries, Astronauts, Garbage Collectors, Inventors, Authors, Musicians, Factory Workers, Soldiers, Teachers, and Surgeons. You are raising the people who will one day rule the World.

Let them see you in prayer. See you reading your Bibles. Sit them down, your entire family, and unfold for them the glorious words long written down, penned into the very fabric of reality by the God to whom they will be held accountable. Teach them His ways, teach them His words. Take them to Church, every week. Let them hear you sing, loud, with a full chest, to the God who saved you in spite of your sins.

To the Father whose eyes have made it this far, and your bad choices, your sins, be they intentional or not; made in haste or not; made because of how your own Father may have raised you or not; if they are here and now dancing in your present to the music of your past as they laugh at your future…hear me clearly. Yes, losing your temper is a failure, is a sin. Yes, breaking a promise to your children is a failure, is a sin. Yes, not teaching them that God forgives just as much as He judges, is a sin. Yes, not taking them to Church is a sin. Yes, not raising them in the fear and admonition of the Lord is a sin. And precisely because all of these are sins, they are forgivable. Repent of them to the God who made you, ask His forgiveness, and He will give it. In fact, all of your failures as a Father can be forgiven, because the forgiveness that comes from God is not based on our performance, regardless of how righteous or wicked it may be. Our forgiveness comes from the fact that Jesus Christ is God and has taken the penalty we have earned from Heaven, upon Himself, when we repented of our sins and believed in Him. There is no father-failure so dark, so deep, so wicked that God can not forgive. There is no sin a Father can commit that the blood of Jesus Christ can not wash as white as snow.

It is only through the broken body and shed blood of Jesus Christ that we can ever be a good Father. That we can ever be the kind of Father we want to be.

The kind of Father we need to be.

The kind of Father that raises the Fathers our Grandchildren will need.

It is only through Jesus Christ that we can be a Father worthy of being called one.