A Man of Consequence

Sitting on barstools at a counter on the rooftop of the terrace of the hotel, we surveyed the golden beauty of Southern California on display in all directions. Endless beaches, sun-kissed and full of people lounging, stretched before us as surfers and swimmers bobbed in the water, glittering in angles of waves and movement to the horizon. Palm trees lined the busy street below us and cars, motorcycles, e-bikes, regular bikes, and all forms of humanity moved along, across, and beside it, in shifting patterns of color, sound, and motion. Carlsbad is one of those distinctively California coastal towns that melds the laid-back vibe, upscale vanity, and wonderfully eclectic flavor of the Golden State in a way that draws smiles of wonder, head-shakes of surprise, and a pervasive sense of being in scenes created on a carefully curated movie set in some Hollywood studio.

As we watched it all unfold, somehow simultaneously leisurely and frenetic, a man walking below caught my eye. He had stopped and was wrangling the leashes of two large dogs. At first, I thought he had two little dogs in carriers strapped on his chest, but closer examination showed that they were actually two babies with white sun-hats on, their legs dangling down each side of him. A water tumbler hung from his teeth as he was diligently working to untangle the long leashes of the two big dogs, standing patiently beside him. For what seemed like five minutes, he worked at the leashes shifting the tumbler, the twins, and dogs rather deftly to get everything lined up so forward motion was possible. Finally, all was situated and he strode forward, water tumbler in his right hand, leashes in his left, sunglasses perfectly placed, and babies flowing along smoothly with him toward the beach.

This scene played over and over in my mind during our stay. What was it?

The next day we had a chance to join a young local couple for dinner. We met at a lovely local restaurant full of energy and live music. During dinner, we spoke of children (they have three and one on the way) and the many beautiful gifts and challenges of parenthood. I was struck by their joy, undiminished by the normal challenges of young children: the demands on time, pocketbook, and energy, the smiles never stopped. They spoke as one, describing their journey, her leaving a big job to focus on the family, and his challenge with time, focus, and the call to fulfill the roles of father, husband, son, and leader in his business.

Reflecting on our dinner, I was reminded of the young families in our lives and the bold commitment it takes to enter into parenthood. It is a journey of self-sacrifice, an ongoing reminder that your life is not about you. These “growing years” are consumed with the things of children: food and shelter, activities, teaching, disciplining, cleaning, tending, protecting, fearing, and forming. Everything must necessarily revolve around this vocation and it is consuming physically, mentally, and financially.

Returning to the man on the street, I asked myself: what is he in the lives of those twins, strapped to his chest and out for a walk? Protector, provider, steady presence, firewall against the world, hugger and cleaner of skinned knees. At his best, he may be a confidant and emotional bulwark. As lover of their mother, he is the example of how to love and how they should expect to be loved. For the rest of their life, he will be their father, and regardless of how perfectly or imperfectly he plays that role, he will be a man of consequence in all that they become.

Merriam-Webster defines consequence as:

• a conclusion derived through logic
• something produced by a cause or necessarily following from a set of conditions
• importance with respect to power to produce an effect
• social importance

I look at my own sons and this season in life. The growing years – growing a family, growing a career, growing into manhood, growing into a different kind of sonship. Growing in meaning and purpose – for many, that is attached to growing in faith. It is demanding, tiring, difficult, rewarding, consuming, work. It goes fast, has no playbook, and will reveal one’s many weaknesses even as it brings him to a fullness he never imagined possible. He is made for it, yet many will fail, falling to their own desire, doubts, and flaws. For those who persevere, the becoming is something extraordinary.

During our dinner with that young couple, he repeatedly referenced his own father. Pieces of wisdom, places of showing up, examples of manhood that have stuck. What a gift. A gift of a beautiful masculine example in fatherhood, as a husband, as a working professional and provider, and a faithful human and spiritual sonship. May we all be spoken of so highly when our children reflect on all they love in their parents.

What is it to be a man of consequence? Whether you realize it or not, you already are. In our little corners of the universe, we all are. But what kind of consequence? Father, son, brother, husband friend, leader, mentor, teacher…whatever your role, you are consequential – your presence is impacting everyone within your dominion in positive and negative ways. You are leaving a wake and it is changing someone else’s life.

In his book, The Meaning of Your Life, Arthur Brooks defines meaning as coherence plus purpose plus significance. He goes on, “to understand the why of your life, you need to ask why things happen the way they do around you, why you are doing the things you are doing, and why your life matters.” During our dinner, the young father, husband, and leader shared the beautiful struggle with being and doing all that he feels called to do. The conflicted feelings of balance and time and presence in the face of competing demands. In the act of wrestling with all of it, the wonderful consequence of such an example will do exactly what it’s supposed to do. It will never be perfect but that is a wonderful part of it’s necessity.

There is a glorious freedom in believing you are exactly where you are for some reason. A reason that you cannot see, define, or fully understand. Arthur Brooks would call this complexity – a right brain activity not meant to be solved but to be pondered and lived. The wrestling with the why’s of our life is simply one of the great gifts of living. So keep asking. Keep wrestling. Keep striving to be the kind of consequential that leaves a legacy of others remembering just where you showed up for them and the difference it made. It will never be a straight, flawless line…but it was never meant to be.