When Fathering Gets Hard

Marcus had been working on his golf game for two years. Lessons. Range sessions. A bucket of balls, twice a week, before work. He watched videos, tweaked his grip, tried different swing thoughts, different clubs. For long stretches, nothing improved his scores. Whenever he thought about how much time and money he’d spent versus the progress he’d seen, he’d get discouraged and entertain thoughts of giving up the game.

He kept going anyway. And then one morning on the back nine, something clicked. His drives were landing where he aimed them. The swing that had felt mechanical for two years finally felt like his. All his practice had been taking hold all along — he just couldn’t see tangible results until that day.

Fathering works the same way.

If you’ve been at this for any time at all, you’ve probably hit a season where nothing seems to connect. Maybe it’s the early years when you have a colicky baby or a toddler who tests every limit, and you’re wondering when fathering starts to feel like something you’re actually good at. Maybe it’s the teen years, when your kid goes quiet and every attempt you make lands wrong — you’re too eager, too clueless, too late.

Maybe you’re in a stretch where it seems all you do is work, and by the time you get home there’s nothing left for the people who need you most. Maybe you’re carrying the weight of past mistakes and you’re not sure the relationship can recover.

Fathering is just plain hard sometimes. And for some dads, the struggle is about not being able to see their kids as often as they want — separated from them by distance, or circumstances, or a custody arrangement that leaves you counting the days. That kind of discouragement can run deeper than most people understand. And in those seasons, some dads ask the same question Marcus asked himself on the driving range: Is any of this working? Is it worth it to keep going?

It’s a lonely place to be, but many fathers have been there.

Discouragement doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong.

Every father hits these seasons. That’s not a flaw in you; it’s just the nature of the job. Some seasons cost more than they return for a while. The question isn’t whether you’ll go through them — you will — it’s how you’ll carry yourself when they come.

A dad named Derek spent months driving his teenage son to practice, leaving notes on his door, saying “Good night” to silence. He had no way to tell whether any of it was landing. Then one evening his son walked in and showed him something on his phone — nothing life-changing, just a moment of contact that his son had initiated. Derek hoped it might be a turning point, but he tried not to read too much into it. He focused on staying consistent with his day-to-day investments in the relationship.

That’s what staying devoted looks like: faithful presence, compounding steadily.

Your kids are probably giving you more credit than you think.

A fifth grader named Richale didn’t see her dad often — he drove a truck and she only saw him every other weekend. Here’s part of what she wrote about him:

Even though I don’t get to see my father that often, he is very special to me ... He stays in contact with us letting us know how much he loves and cares about us ... No matter how far he is I always knew that he is thinking about me.

This daughter wasn’t keeping score of the weekends he wasn’t there; she was thankful for the man he was when he showed up. Kids tend to do that — they extend more grace to us than we extend to ourselves, and they’re quick to assume the best of us.

The lie discouragement tells a dad is that nothing is getting through, that he’s not doing enough. That’s almost never the whole story.

Do Your Best — for Them

This is the hardest shift to make, but it’s an important one. Discouragement asks: Is this worth it to me? That’s the wrong question. The better question is: What does me showing up consistently do for them?

A challenge from the book of Galatians puts it plainly: Do not grow weary in doing good, for at the proper time you will reap a harvest if you do not give up.

Hang in there, dad. Do all you can to stay engaged and give your best. Trust that the harvest will come, even if it doesn’t happen on the schedule you’d prefer.

When your kid is irritable, distant, or hard to like — don’t pull back. Keep showing up. Keep saying I love you even when it isn’t returned. Keep leaving the notes, keep going to the games, keep sitting close.

It all has a way of taking hold. Your kids will remember and admire a dad who didn’t quit.

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