As millions across the world celebrate the birth of a child in a manger because there was no room in the inn, I wonder what sense of place and belonging do I bring to and receive from my own children. Am I providing the warmth, protection and care that they need and desire or do they feel like other people and priorities have pushed them to the back barn? Where do they experience my presence in our home? If asked, where would they place me?

Because I believe fatherhood is a lifelong relational journey between men and children that changes over time and circumstances I know that the answers to these questions are dynamic. But that is no less reason for taking a bearing at this time and place.

I’m reminded of the first chapter of Samuel Osherson’s book, The Passions of Fatherhood. The book was written during a year stay in a country house in New Hampshire. During this time he commuted into the city overnight once a week to maintain his counseling practice and teaching responsibilities. In the opening chapter he describes the process of finding his place in the home, a process that led him to reflect upon his father’s place in the home he grew up in:

"Where was my father’s room in our house? Some of my friends can identify their father’s “room” – his tools in a basement shop or among the cars in the garage. Are these dads inside the home or out of it? Sometimes our dads almost seemed like appendages to the home. I’m not sure my father, who owned and operated a cluster of carpet stores in New York City, really had a room of his own in our house. The den, the TV room, was often where we’d find Dad I the evening. But in my memory he seemed more real in the store, more substantial outside the home than in it. Did he feel comfortable in any room in our house? My mom and dad have a good marriage, they’re fine parents and superb grandparents, and I cherish the way they made our home seem safe and warm. Yet the stark truth hits me: It was my mother’s house.

I want to make room for myself in this family, in this house. Suddenly I feel part of an ancient struggle, uniting fathers across the generations, to find our way into the home."

My concern is not that a particular house feels more like mom’s or dad’s but rather, what place do you occupy? Is it intentional or by default? Have you found your way into the physical and emotional world of your children? Have you welcomed them into yours? With over 24 million children in our Country growing up in father absent homes the challenges for some are much greater than others, but the challenge is there for every dad. I don't believe circumstances have to be perfect . . . miracles can and have happened.