The Art of Snapping Part 1: Frustration

For the most part, my five year old is peaceful, joyful, jolly...  until he gets frustrated.  He could be having the greatest day imaginable and then he hits a wall.

It happened last month when he came with a simple question.  "Dad, how do you snap your fingers?"  

I showed him.  For the next three days he would ask the question, try to snap and shout, "I JUST CAN'T DO IT." 

Last week he came to show me something.  "Dad, close your eyes."   He had been practicing on his own for three weeks.  Now he's an expert snapper.

For two weeks, we've been working on tying shoes.  He has all the tools.  He knows the bunny ears.  He knows the Through the Tree.  But I hear it again.  "I JUST CAN'T DO IT."  

But before I shake my head and say, "Oh, those five year olds," I remember how ridiculous I get when I don't succeed immediately.

Over the years, I have splintered entertainment centers, treated screwdrivers like throwing stars and Leg Dropped appliance boxes.

Oh, those 32 year olds.

Sometimes I feel like asking for help equals weakness.  If I can't do something then I'm not a man.  I get wrapped up in the idea that if I successfully complete this task it will bestow more masculinity on me.  If I figure this out, I'm strong.  If not, I'm weak.

And I want life to be easy.  Failing strikes to my very core.  For years I thought I was on my own.  I believed that there was no one who could really help me...  What's worse, I didn't know if there was anyone who wanted to help me.  

Feeling alone to deal with the challenges this world offers. 

I daresay I'm not alone in feeling alone.  

And it's not just the frustrating tasks at home.

I'm already running late and now a train's crossing the tracks.  

I'm walking out the door as I spill juice on my shirt.

The smallest failure and we think we're useless...

My son is not useless.  He is not weak.  He has more strength than he knows, strength this world needs.

One of my greatest tasks as a father is to repeatedly remind my son that he isn't alone.  He has a father who loves him and will help him in times of trouble.

...

Why do I forget that I have the same?

Thanks to Jesus, I have a Father who loves me and who will help me in times of trouble.  

As I concentrate on putting that message in my son's heart, he's learning to snap and I notice his fuse is getting longer.

As that lesson slowly invades my thinking, I'm heaving fewer tools and breaking fewer spare parts.  

And now that he knows how to snap, on to the next challenge...

"Bunny ears, bunny ears, playing by a tree..."