Clay

This word came to Jeremiah from the LORD:
Rise up, be off to the potter’s house;
there I will give you my message.
I went down to the potter’s house and there he was,
working at the wheel.
Whenever the object of clay which he was making
turned out badly in his hand,
he tried again,
making of the clay another object of whatever sort he pleased.
Then the word of the LORD came to me:
Can I not do to you, house of Israel,
as this potter has done? says the LORD.
Indeed, like clay in the hand of the potter,
so are you in my hand, house of Israel. Jer 18:1-6

I am this piece of clay.

I have changed in many ways over the course of my life. Trust me, those of you who knew me in high school, in the military, or even just a month ago know that I am different today than back then. I cam constantly being reshaped into something different all the time. I think we are all like this, all of us, it is universal to everyone.  Whether you believe in a God, or if you are Catholic like me, we are all constantly being changed into something better than we were yesterday.

I have 314 friends on my personal Facebook account. Each and every one of them, I know how they impacted my life, and helped to shape me, in some way, into who I am at this very moment. I would, if anyone of them ever asked, give them whatever they needed. I would come from a place of love and help them in any way possible, because they are my friends.  I have tried very hard to instill this in my children as well. I know that, from what I have learned in life, it is really more about the relationships you have, rather than the monetary value in things that you have.  I have had more money that I knew what to do with at points, and I have been so broke that all tha was in my pockets was that sticky lent ball. I learned, through all of that, relationships matter.

I know that if the time ever came, my daughter and my son would give anyone anything they needed, if they were asked. Here is how I know this, last Sunday, my daughter asked me if the man up there, referring to our priest, was sad? My response was, well, he doesn’t look sad to me, but he may be, if you think he looks that way. She said, o.k. Daddy. From there, Mass progressed, and I didn’t think anything of it. Then, when the time for the offering came, she took ours up to him, but after she placed it in the basket, she gave him a hug. She came back to the pew with a huge grin on her face. She said, Daddy, I hope that makes him happy. O.k., at that point, I was beaming. In that moment, I knew that maybe, just maybe, I was doing something correct as a father. Seeing the reaction of my daughter, that was priceless.

I am not writing this to trout my parenting prowess. I am not a perfect father at all, far from it. I just know that I want to leave a lasting impression on the world, and in a way that is different than just trying to start a movement, or even writing this blog. The one thing that has really struck me from this whole fatherhood thing is how my kids will be here after I am no longer. It will be what I instill in them that lives beyond me, and will be what they (hopefully) why strive to do with their children. This is the only way we are ever going to see changes in how our relationships with everyone improve. We have to instill the power of love within them, and shape them into a better generation than our generation.

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