Perk Your Ears up This Summer: Here's What It Means When a Kid Yells, 'Daddy, Watch Me!'

COMMENTARY

Remember those lazy summer afternoons at the neighborhood pool when you were a kid? And remember how the atmosphere would change in a heartbeat if Dad showed up?
                    
Mom was like a superhero, shuttling you and your siblings or friends from event to event, game to game. She was always there, like an air-traffic controller making sure all the important affairs in your life stayed in the air and stayed on schedule. No dentist appointment or friend's birthday party would be missed.
                    
So, of course, Mom was at the pool. Who else would have carried all the floats and the cooler and the towels and snacks?! (Moms, we love you!) But Mom was often the under-appreciated, stabilizing force in your universe—like gravity or Newton's law of physics.
                    
But then Dad would make an appearance and we'd lose our minds!
                    
Thoughts like this one take me back to our annual family vacations in Florida when I was growing up. We stayed in the same motel every year, a fairly simple 1960s set-up right on the beach comprised of two double-story buildings, their efficiency rooms facing one another across a grassy lawn. The swimming pool was tucked in between the two buildings near the parking lot.
                    
All of us kids (we normally took our vacation with two or three other families) spent most mornings in the pool waiting for our dads to return from their deep-sea fishing outing or their early morning round of golf. When the dads showed up back at the motel, exhausted I'm sure from being out in the sweltering heat, the oh-so-common exclamation arose from the swimming pool.
                    
Daddy's here! YAAAAAY!
                    
Our excitement soon led to chants of: Dad, Dad . . . come in the pool! Soon followed by the invariable cry shouted by kids the world over:
                    
Daddy—watch me!
                    
Do you remember a moment like this one? As soon as your dad arrived you couldn't wait to show him what you could do, what you had learned—your best dive, your best splash, your best underwater swim, your best jump. So you called out again, and you called out louder: Daddy! Watch me! Daddy! Daddy! Look what I can do! Watch me float on my back! Watch me jump into the pool! Watch me, Daddy! I'm going to do my running dive! Hey—look at me! Are you watching me, Daddy! Daaa-aaa-aaa-dddy!
                    
What was happening in that moment?
                    
Maybe you wanted so desperately for your dad to look your way. You wanted him to validate your new skills. You wanted him to acknowledge how special you were to him. You wanted him to celebrate you. You wanted him to cheer for you.
                    
Maybe you simply wanted your father to notice you. You wanted him to look your way and say, I see you. You wanted him to be there.

For you.
                    
Can you still feel that moment—or a moment just like it? Maybe for you a scene like this one played out on the trampoline in the backyard. Or maybe it unfolded at your basketball game when you noticed your dad walk into the gym during halftime. Or maybe your "dad's here" moment happened at your piano recital when, after peeking repeatedly around the curtain before your turn to perform, you finally saw the outline of your father's frame in the doorway.
                    
In each case, you weren't implying Mom's opinion didn't matter—that her approval wasn't important. In fact, I want to say that I'm not discounting the amazing and irreplaceable role Moms play in our lives. Their blessing is essential, and we can't fully flourish in life without it. It's just that there was something different—and special—about what your daddy thought about you.
                    
THAT PRIMAL CRAVING
                    
I'm writing this for everyone who has a father. And for all those who know what it's like to long for a father's blessing—a father's approval, affection, and attention. It's for anyone who longs to hear your daddy say, I love you and I'm so proud of you.
                    
Maybe that blessing has been there in your life. But maybe it hasn't. Or maybe the blessing was there for a time, but then you sensed it slipping away. Or maybe the approval was never there in quite the way you wanted it to be. You always felt it was performance-based, not unconditional.
                    
That's the raw spot where we want to go to. Because that longing for a father's affection and approval is innate and universal—and a lot of us didn't always get what we were desperate for from the man who was responsible for bringing us into this world.
                    
That longing is unquestionably there when we're growing up. We crave our dad's attention and approval when we're little kids, and we want so badly to hear him say:
                    
That was incredible, baby girl.
                    
Wow, Ace (that's what my dad called me), that was the best game of all time.
                    
I see you, Princess! Do it again!

Way to go, son! You're getting so much better!
                    
Yet, that longing is still there when we're older too, even though it may show up in different and more complex ways. Every one of us is desperate for the approval of a father—no matter what our age. A recent study in Psychology Today underscores this need for a father's approval, even at the stages of life where we have matured and reached levels of success. Dr. Peggy Drexler writes:
                    
In my research into the lives of some 75 high-achieving, clearly independent women, I knew that I would find powerful connection between them and the first men in their lives. What surprised me was how deep (and surprisingly traditional) the bond is, how powerful it remains throughout their lives, and how resilient it can be—even when a father has caused it grievous harm. No matter how successful their careers, how happy their marriages, or how fulfilling their lives, women told me that their happiness passed through a filter of their fathers' reactions. Many told me that they tried to remove the filter and—much to their surprise— failed. We know that fathers play a key role in the development and choices of their daughters. But even for women whose fathers had been neglectful or abusive, I found a hunger for approval. They wanted a warm relationship with men who did not deserve any relationship at all.
                    
Did you catch that key phrase—the "hunger for approval"? The same can be said for sons as well as daughters. According to Dr. Frank Pittman, author of Man Enough, "Life for most boys and for many grown men is a frustrating search for the lost father who has not yet offered protection, provision, nurturing, modeling, or, especially, anointment."2 That word anointment refers to being chosen, blessed . . . approved. We are all desperate for our fathers' approval. But it's not always there.
                    
Without this approval, we can feel given up on, abandoned, deserted, or disowned. We can feel ignored or isolated or jilted or judged. There's some kind of thirst we can't quench on our own, a hole we cannot fill no matter how hard we try. This void, this lack of a father's presence and approval, can feel like a shadow that is always there, an intangible missing piece we don't even know how to find. In the words of Dr. Drexler, our happiness or satisfaction or contentment or peace, still passes through "a filter of  [Notes:our]  father's reactions."
                
And when that approval isn't there, in one word, we feel . . . forsaken.

That word, forsaken, means to be left behind or to be left in a difficult condition by someone when you really needed that person to stay. But know this—the God of heaven is not moving on without you. He's not walking out on you or trying to inflict pain on you.

Louie Giglio is the founder of Passion Conferences. This excerpt comes from his new book "Not Forsaken" which tells about God's favor and blessing on us as His children.