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The Summer Debrief: What Fathers Learned by Taking Things Away

Previous Week In Practice

One thing we ask every dad in the group to do is get coffee or lunch with another dad sometime outside of Friday morning.

One dad came back from vacation this week and said he already had several of those conversations on his calendar—which he admitted was a bit of a humble brag.

Another dad shared about having coffee with a father in his sixties whose kids are now grown. Two things from that conversation really stayed with him.

Years ago, this man had an opportunity to take a promotion that would have meant more money, a better title, and a lot more travel. He turned it down because he knew what the travel would mean for his family. He also knew it would probably limit how far he went in his career, and it did.

As the dad in our group told the story, he got emotional. There was a real cost to that decision. But his children grew up with a dad who was there.

The other thing this father had done was much simpler. Every Sunday afternoon, he spent about thirty minutes one-on-one with one of his kids. They might talk about something they were working through, something going on in their lives, or something he wanted to teach them. It simply became part of the rhythm of their family.

Today, all four of his children are still walking with the Lord.

Obviously, none of us would claim that one parenting habit guarantees an outcome. There are faithful parents in this room whose children have walked away from the faith. But someone pointed out that thirty minutes a week over eighteen years adds up to hundreds of hours of intentional time with a child.

That kind of relationship usually doesn’t happen accidentally.

This Week’s Topic: How Did Parenting Go This Summer?

Back in the spring, we spent one Friday talking about how we wanted to parent intentionally through the summer.

This week we came back to a simple question:

How did it actually go?

There wasn’t much more structure than that. We went around the room and let dads talk about what worked, what didn’t, and what they learned.

Taking Something Away Made Room for Something Better

One dad told us about his thirteen-year-old planning his own sleepover. He invited six friends, dragged mattresses into one room, and basically organized the whole thing himself.

Dad supplied the pizza.

At some point late that night, he realized something: none of the boys had been on screens. They were outside in the dark playing Ghost in the Graveyard.

He had actually put the remotes away beforehand just in case, but nobody ever asked for them.

Another dad said he put his newly thirteen-year-old daughter on what he jokingly called an “electronic vacation.” For a couple of weeks, they dramatically reduced her access to screens.

He said the difference in her attitude and how present she was with the family was noticeable—and even more importantly, she noticed it too.

There were a couple of things about his approach that seemed helpful.

First, he called it a vacation rather than a punishment. The goal wasn’t to communicate that she had done something wrong. They just wanted to see what life felt like with less technology in it.

Second, he was realistic. A phone is also part of how a thirteen-year-old stays connected with friends, especially when they don’t live nearby. So the answer wasn’t necessarily “no phone.” It became something more like an hour instead of unlimited access.

The conversation wasn’t really about screens being bad.

It was more about how easily they fill whatever space we give them.

Sometimes you don’t realize how much room something is taking up until you remove it for a while.

That led us to 1 Corinthians 6:12: “All things are lawful for me, but not all things are helpful.”

Hebrews 12:1 came up too—the call to lay aside “every weight, and sin which clings so closely.”

Some of the things we talked about giving up this summer weren’t sinful. They were just getting in the way of something better.

Being Present Was the Whole Plan

Another dad said his summers are usually dominated by work travel.

This summer was different.

He described his goal simply as being present with his family, and he said they could all feel the difference.

During the summer, his son went to camp and prayed to receive Christ. Since then he has been coming home with questions about God and faith—some of which his dad admitted he doesn’t always know how to answer.

He actually seemed encouraged by that. His son is asking, and they get to work through those questions together.

Another dad shared that his middle son came home from camp after opening up about some serious struggles with a group of other thirteen-year-old boys.

Then he came home and told his dad too.

The father kept coming back to how grateful he was that his son trusted him enough to tell him now rather than carrying it alone for years.

It reminded us of James 5:16: “Confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed.”

Another family spent part of the summer visiting ministries they have supported for years, including three boys they sponsor and had written to but never met in person.

Their ten-year-old walked into one family’s home—sheet-metal walls, concrete floor—and immediately commented on how nice it was.

The family had cleaned everything carefully to welcome them, and that was what he noticed.

The dad also shared a tradition they have at Christmas. Instead of simply choosing where to give money themselves, they give their boys a real budget, hand them a sponsorship catalog, and let them decide together where the money should go.

After meeting some of the people they had been giving to, those decisions became a lot more concrete.

We also had a dad who was new to the group and new to the school.

His family had moved away from a neighborhood where their kids knew people all around them, and he said the transition had been difficult.

His daughter tends toward anxiety and was especially worried about losing touch with her friends. Rather than immediately giving her a phone, they bought her a pair of tin-can-style phones so she could still talk with friends nearby.

Mostly, though, he said the summer involved a lot of prayer.

He used the words desperation and powerlessness.

Then, halfway through the first full week of school, his son started waking up happy instead of grumpy.

It wasn’t some dramatic resolution to everything, but it felt like a small sign that maybe they were beginning to settle in.

He also said that simply knowing this group of dads exists has given him some hope.

The Conversations We’d Rather Skip

One dad joked that he has now managed to ruin his son’s beach vacation two summers in a row by making the beach the setting for their annual sex talk.

His twelve-year-old apparently complained about last year’s conversation for months.

This year, though, the dad said he wanted to go beyond simply saying, “Pornography is bad.”

He wanted his son to know that sexual temptation is something many people struggle with, that struggling does not mean he is somehow uniquely messed up, and that he can always come talk to his dad about it.

His plan is to keep having the conversation rather than treating it like a one-time talk.

That seems important.

Most of the conversations that shape our kids probably aren’t one big perfect conversation. They’re the things we return to again and again as they grow.

Psalm 119:9 came to mind:

“How can a young man keep his way pure? By guarding it according to your word.”

Another dad talked about learning to accept that he doesn’t have to be the expert on everything.

His wife told him that when it comes to raising a teenage girl, there are some things she understands in a way he doesn’t.

He said that after spending much of his professional life being responsible for having answers, it was surprisingly freeing to admit that sometimes his job is simply to let someone else lead.

When a Ten-Year-Old Asks a Hard Question

Toward the end of the morning, one dad brought up a question from his daughter, who is about to turn ten.

He has been encouraging her to look for the good in people and say encouraging things.

She came back with a problem.

What is the difference between a compliment and a lie?

She knows lying is wrong. So if you tell someone something nice that you don’t actually believe, aren’t you lying?

It turned into a longer conversation than any of us expected.

One suggestion was that instead of trying to manufacture a compliment, we can approach people with genuine curiosity.

Ask a question.

Learn something about them.

Give them an opportunity to tell you who they are.

The dad said his daughter worried that asking questions might seem rude, but we talked about how good questions can actually communicate care.

Philippians 2:4 says to look “not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.”

We also talked about the difference between encouragement and flattery.

Flattery is praise we don’t really mean, usually because we want something from the other person.

Proverbs 29:5 says, “A man who flatters his neighbor spreads a net for his feet.”

The motive matters.

But several dads also thought her concern about honesty was something worth protecting.

She believes lying matters.

We probably don’t need to talk her out of that.

Actionable Steps for This Week

  1. Put one coffee on the calendar. Meet with another dad outside of Friday morning and talk about something that actually matters.
  2. Spend thirty minutes one-on-one with one of your kids. Pick a day and make it a regular rhythm if you can.
  3. Take one thing away for a little while. Screens are the obvious example, but it could be anything that has begun taking up too much space. See what fills the space instead.
  4. Reopen a conversation you thought you already finished. Especially one about sexuality, temptation, faith, friendships, or something else your child may need to hear more than once.
  5. Let your kids make a real decision about generosity. Give them a budget and let them decide where some of it goes.
  6. Ask a question instead of forcing a compliment. Let your kids watch you practice genuine curiosity about another person.
  7. Take a Friday. The first open date is October 2. You don’t need to come with answers. Bring something you’re actually trying to figure out.

“And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” — Galatians 6:9