I subscribe to a lot of blogs.  Most of them are about leadership and topics related to leadership.  But I subscribe to some that have nothing to do with leadership at all.  (Or, at least, that is what it thought.)

My niece, Ashley Barnette is an active blogger, a wife, a mother, a college professor, and probably a bunch of other stuff that I don’t know about.  And this week she wrote an article entitled Do Your Eyes Light Up?  I really would like you to go and take a look at her original article.  It is very thought-provoking to me and it causes me to examine some of my actions and activities.  I won’t give you all of the details of the article because I want you to go and read it.  And while you are there, leave her a comment or a word of encouragement.  As writers, we often go for extended periods of time without getting any feedback on the pieces of our soul that we lay bare from time to time.

Her article asked the question, “Do your eyes light up when your child walks in the room?”  And that is a great question.  It speaks to us about our willingness to focus on them and the value that we place on our children.    But I was drawn to look at the equation from the other side.  Perhaps it is because my children are all grown and I don’t have that exact kind of relationship with them any longer since we are all adults.

My question would be do your children’s eyes light up when you come into the room?  I am blessed right now to have 2 of my grandchildren and our daughter living with us right now.  And I cannot begin to express the joy that I feel every day when I come home from work and walk in the door.  They come running to me squealing “Papa!” at the top of their little lungs.  And they leap into my arms as I stoop down to scoop them up.  And the look in their eyes . . . Well, to say that it is “bright” is an understatement.  It makes whatever went on that day seem so very insignificant.

And the eyes don’t lie.  

I am in Orlando, FL as I write this morning.  The kids are off at the playground and we are having a bit of a more calm day than the last few have been.  And I am looking for inspiration from our recent experiences.  And I found it at Disney’s Animal Kingdom in the live performance of Finding Nemo.

Just like in the animated movie, the little fish named Nemo gets caught by some divers and is taken to live in a dentist’s aquarium. To Nemo, being stuck in the tank is pretty trivial compared to not ever seeing his father again. (This theme is just about right for Fatherhood Friday, wouldn’t you say?)

But little does Nemo know that his father is the kind of father who will go to any length to try and find his son so that he can bring him home again.  Up to this point his father has been timid and afraid to let his son go out into the world and experience life.  Tragedy has touched their family and it has scarred the father deeply.  But adversity has caused him to rise up and be willing to go through rough waters, sharks, jellyfish, and unknown territory to find his son.

So what is the point for Fatherhood Friday?

The English language is tricky.  You can read the title of today’s article in two ways.  You can read it as an admonition that we should encourage our leaders.  And that would be a great admonition and a great article.

But my purpose today is to view it from the obverse perspective.  I want to admonish leaders that we should be “encouragers” to those around us.  And who doesn’t need a little encouragement?

One of the most important tasks of a leader is to encourage his followers.  Leaders often have to lead in the midst of difficult times and through tough circumstances.  These times and circumstances weigh heavily on our team.  And one of the things to which they will look to their leaders is encouragement.

Are you an encourager?  Do you build your team up?  Do you take pro-active steps to speak positive words to your team as they struggle with the tasks that you have given them?  Or are you demeaning and demanding?  When your team sees you approaching are they looking forward to what you are about to say?  Or do they feel a sense of dread and foreboding in your presence?

If I were to make a list of those who need encouragement from me, as a father, I need to look no farther than my own home. 

“I wish someone would have told me about that!”

How many times have we said that as parents?  I know that I have said it about a bazillion times.  Or, I have said it at least “ten hundred million” times, which was the largest number that I could comprehend as a child.

Human nature assumes that someone out there knows all of the answers.  And if that person would just share that knowledge with us, then we would be able to navigate the difficulties and challenges that life throws our way.  So human nature insists that there is information that is out there, but it is not always shared with us.  That may or may not be true.  I am hoping that some will respond to this with some thoughts on whether or not they believe there is some great cosmic consciousness that contains all that there is to know.  (My personal belief is that the Bible contains all that is necessary to do whatever we need to do in life — including parenting.)

But the thrust of Fatherhood Friday today is that although there are tons of things that we think someone should have told us, we probably would not have believed them if they did.

For instance, I returned from an international business trip last night just before my grandchildren’s bedtime.  I left home last Saturday morning and I returned home late last evening.  I was gone nearly six full days.  I never really travelled on business very much when our children were little.  I was away overnight a few times.  But not many.  And I was surprised by just how much I missed them after only a few days away.  And I was really surprised by how much they seemed to miss me!

My point is this.  People told me how much I would miss my family when I was gone.  But, I didn’t really believe them.  I really love my children and yet I did not realize the intense connection that exists in some (not all unfortunately) between a father and their children.  I can remember very clearly my own father travelling when I was young.  And I know how much I missed him when he was gone.  But I never looked at it from his perspective.  

As fathers, we are the “go-to” guys of the family.  There is a lot that is expected of us. We are given enormous responsibility and we are going to ultimately be accountable for the actions that we take as husbands and fathers.

How does that last sentence make you feel? Are you at peace with that statement? Or are you scared witless by the repercussions of it?

Fathers can be compared in some ways to a small town mayor or the owner of a small business. Think of the many roles that you are asked to fulfill. Have you counted the costs represented in each role?

You would probably not start a simple DIY project this week-end without sitting down and thinking about the steps needed to complete the project. You would roam around the garage and make sure you have the right tools and materials to complete it. You would plan a trip to the hardware store on your way home one night so that you can get a good start on Saturday morning. And you would do all of this just to replace the garbage disposer in the kitchen.

What if there were within each of us fathers a commitment to the same level of planning and preparation for the role of father? What if we planned to execute the role of father with integrity and maturity as though we were a project manager at work for the sake of our children?

Let’s begin with one of my basic premises: There is unity of life.

What does that mean?

It means that you are one person, not two, and not three or four. You are the same man, both on the job with your colleagues and at home with your wife and your children. You may think that they are different. You may use pop-culture words like “persona” to indicate that you take on different personalities and different habits and behaviors. And, in fact, you may try to live and act differently in those two different arenas. But you cannot live two lives; underneath the mask you are the same person in both spheres of responsible operation. And to argue against my basic premise is to further fortify it prove that it is true.

Men who are weak and ineffective as husbands tend to be the same as fathers by trying to split their lives between work and family. In other words, they live as producers at work but become consumers the moment they walk through the front door of the home. On the job they dedicate their powers to serious, responsible activity; but at home they are