by Ken Canfield, Ph.D.

What keeps a dad motivated and hopeful?

That’s a key question that I’ve been pondering and researching for some time, and I’ll have more on this in the coming weeks and months. I’m more and more convinced of this:

Hope is a powerful force and can be an important part of effective fathering.

Many dads struggle at times with a deep sense of hopelessness, and the causes or origins can be varied and complex. You might feel hopeless as a dad because you have unresolved issues or deep wounds from your relationship with your dad, or the absence of a father’s influence in your life. It might happen in connection with an unexpected separation from your child, a messy divorce or difficult marriage, trouble in other relationships, a personal crisis stemming from unhealthy behaviors or addictive patterns in your life, or even incarceration.

Feelings of hopelessness can also be related to choices a child has made. You’re trying to be a good dad and in many ways you are, but then your child chooses a path that’s vastly different from what you have hoped for, invested in, and believed for him or her. Questions and feelings start to churn in your “good dad” heart and move you toward embarrassment, isolation, and possibly shame. Meanwhile you see other parents in your community or on social media whose kids seem to be thriving and succeeding in every way. It can sap your sense of hopefulness as a father.

Whatever the cause, when fathers become hopeless they lose their umph, their energy and motivation, and their confidence and know-how to address the issues in front of them. It’s especially sad when these dads give up; they check out physically and/or emotionally and it can start a downward spiral that can leave their children vulnerable in significant ways, maybe effectively fatherless. And of course this can hamper the dads in numerous areas of life.

If we’re honest, we all wrestle with hopelessness as fathers at some times and in some ways.  

So then, where can we go to resolve feelings of hopelessness? Is there a formula to reverse-engineer hopeless fathering? What plausible pathways can we pursue in order to overcome feelings of humiliation and failure associated with our own mistakes, a child’s prodigal life, or both?

First, I must mention that growth for fathers occurs best in groups. A community of hopeful fathers surrounding a struggling dad can help to jump-start his passion and restore his optimism. Beyond that, I believe the transformation from hopeless to bold, faithful fathering is found in something that might sound simple—but it definitely isn’t easy:

Selfless and intentional acts of love.

Hopeful fathers have a wellspring of love emanating from their hearts. And if the feelings of love are not coming naturally, they commit themselves to carrying out selfless and loving acts anyway. They determine to do what they know is right, even when it’s the opposite of what they’re feeling, knowing that over time the feelings will follow. This kind of active, persevering love inspires and drives new and healthier habits and attitudes, and helps to keep these dads from sinking back into patterns of hopeless fathering, which cycles into fatherlessness and on and on it goes.

Two stories come to mind that illustrate this transformation from hopeless to hope-filled, and I hope they will give you a fresh perspective on your fathering. They both happen to come from dads of special-needs children.

When Brad welcomed his first child into the world, he had no idea of what lay ahead for him as a dad or for his son. Tyler was diagnosed with cerebral palsy, and Brad knew his hopes and dreams for Tyler would be much different from those of most other fathers. It took several years for him to realize just how different his fathering situation would be.

He eventually found out that Tyler was emotionally sensitive but had an IQ of 36 and would rarely speak except for a few words and short phrases like, “Happy,” “Upset,” “Not too bad,” “You happy,” and so on.

Later, Brad and his wife had two more children who didn’t have severe impairments. Both grew up to become accomplished athletes. Tyler would go with his parents to watch their games, no doubt wishing he could compete like they were. Tyler would sometimes say to his dad, “Proud of me?” That phrase proud of me became the title of a short life-story book Brad wrote about Tyler and his fathering journey. A fathering situation that seemed hopeless at first was transformed into hope-filled fathering through Brad’s simple response, inspired by love: “Yes son, I’m proud of you!”

The second story is one I have told quite often, about a similar situation when the DeVincks had their first child. Oliver was born severely disabled, and the doctors soon told them that their son would never see, crawl, speak, or hold anything in his hand, and would need almost constant care. He suggested that they find a suitable institution to care for him.

With resolve, Oliver’s dad José said, “Oliver is our son, and we will take him home.” They gave him full-time care for thirty-three years. He matured to an adult but was the size of a ten-year-old, with a large head and twisted legs. His family members fed him three times a day, and bathed and changed him regularly. As his younger brother Christopher would later write, Oliver was, in all respects, one of the “weakest, most helpless human beings” you would ever meet.

Looking back on those years with Oliver, Christopher asked his father, “How did you manage to care for Oliver for thirty-three years?” José replied, “I just asked myself, ‘Can I feed Oliver today?’ and the answer was always, ‘Yes, I can.’”

Facing daily frustrations and exhaustion, dads with no hope might think, feel and even make comments like: “I’m done with you.” “I’m not doing this anymore.” “I’m sick of your behavior.” “I’ve had enough.” “See you later. Have a nice life.” Those sentiments are often understandable in some situations, and they need to be verbalized in the right setting; holding in all the angst and anguish creates fertile ground for hopeless fathering.

But dad, do all you can to resist throwing those comments like darts at your children or their mom. Negative comments like that can do serious damage and haunt your family members for decades—maybe even their whole lives. Instead, find a close friend, a battle buddy, or a men’s group with whom you can share the depth of where your heart is.

Surround yourself with other dads who are positive, healthy influences.

Find men who will talk sense to you and help lead you back to hope-filled fathering. They can understand where you are and still call you out for ways you’re off track. Over time, they will help you process deep-seated negative thoughts and replace them with new thoughts, words, and actions. Like in the stories above, you can learn positive responses like, “I’m proud of you,” or, “Yes, I can continue to act with love toward you, even if I don’t like the current situation.”

In time, your perspective can change. Instead of seeing only problems, you can see reasons to be grateful. Instead of shutting down or assuming the worst, you can express emotions in healthy ways and work toward better, heart-filled relationships.

Dads, if you’re like me, you see plenty of hopelessness in the world. But hopefulness can be our secret weapon as dads. Without it, we aren’t giving our children our very best—and we might be contributing to their struggle. We must address the difficult aspects of our fathering situation with confident resolve and learn to respond to the negativity that all dads face with hope.

In what areas do you feel hopeless as a dad? And where do you find hope as a father? Please leave us a comment on our Facebook page. We are assimilating fresh data aimed at creating new pathways to hope-filled fathering, and by sharing your insights you can be part of the team.