Doubting Dad

A poem of sorts

I sit here at my desk wondering how I can be so miserably frustrated. My inner muse silenced and dragged to the back of my mind. There is so much anger but only because there is so much love.

I sit here at my desk wondering why a tone, a face, a gesture can make me so upset. Kids poke the bear, knowing there is no bear claw. There is no fear of hurting those that care for them.

I sit here at my desk wondering if I would be better off without having kids. I would be free to do as I wish. If anyone were to be disrespectful, I could simply move them out of my life.

I sit here at my desk wondering, if freedom better than responsibility? Is carelessness better than the burden of another soul? Is easy really better than difficult?

I sit here at my desk wondering how empty my home would be. I would have nothing to fill the space. What good is space if it cannot be used?

I sit here at my desk wondering what my life would be without that moment when I saw my baby’s heart beat. That moment changed me at my core. I became something different that day.

I sit here at my desk wondering what it would be like to not be a dad. It darkens my heart and drains my joy. Being a dad is the single greatest milestone in my life.

I sit here at my desk wondering if the joy of being a dad is worth the pain, the struggle. Will enduring pay off? Will it be worth it?

I sit here at my desk wondering if I’m the only one who has doubts. Am I alone? Am I a terrible person?

I sit here at my desk wondering when this too shall pass. There is no truth these doubts. There are no doubts in my love.

I sit here at my desk wondering how my Father in Heaven is able deal with me when I can barely deal with my child. The answer is true for Him as it is for me. The love for a child is worth suffering for.

I sit here at my desk wondering what love is this that would go to the Cross? What is this love that endures endlessly? It is the love of a father.

I sit here. My tea is cool. My muse sings again.

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I’m not a poet, but this was the only format that matched my emotions.

I think we all have moments of doubt that seep through the cracks after a particularly difficult day or experience, dads and moms alike. I hope we can all give ourselves the grace and the time to reflect and regain perspective. There is no greater challenge then being commissioned to care for another soul. There is also no greater reward.

Hold strong. Hold Steady.

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This writing prompt was provided by

Scoot

as part of his Flash Fiction Friday on the Gibberish Substack. Writing Prompt: write about achieving a milestone