These days I've made a diversion of watching E-Sports, particularly Sybert's C&C cast. It has a very nostalgic appeal to me; I used to enjoy C&C a lot, and he reminds me of the Solaris announcer. It makes me want to fund a tournament of my own!

I'm making slow and steady progress on Isaac's Enchiridion. I've mostly completed the section on practical hermeneutics, and I'm enjoying the difficult task of categorically separating that presentation from the section on epistemics. The plan is to set up the study of hermeneutics as fundamental to all other fields of knowledge, including epistemics. We justify our epistemic theories by reference to scripture, and our epistemic theories all establish scripture as the sole ruling and elucidating affirmation of that most fundamental sense of the divine.

I have been really worried about how effective I can be as a father, given my work circumstances. I have a relatively relaxed work-life balance, but even working a simply 9-5 job sometimes leaves me feeling like I lose consciousness as soon as I see my family, and recover only in time to leave home again. I worry that this daily feeling is a summary of the pattern which will characterize my whole life. Every moment is so precious that I neglect upkeep to hang onto it, but then those things un-kept are harmful on their own, and the result is worse than if I had spent less time on what's really important. How can I fight the enemy when I'm so busy fighting the war? 

Chowon and Isaac have been in Korea for a couple of weeks, though, so I've been taking advantage of this time to get the house in order. I've been fixing several little things here and there. My list has kept me so busy that I've spent most of my after-hours each day on it, giving myself about one hour of break-time each day right before I sleep. Consequently, I haven't actually had much time to sleep, but I can't give up the break time -- if I don't wind down any other way, I'll sit in bed for quite a while trying to wind down with only my thoughts, a less effective mode of relaxation. So I've been barely getting to bed on time this week; and the last two days I really didn't want to get up.

My wife told me to just relax and not worry about the chores, but my anxious desire to maximize the small time I have with my son borders on frantic. If I don't get every single thing done this week, then I will sacrifice too much by doing it later. I want so badly to be a dad who benefits my son and angles him toward his only Savior, that the desire alone would surely incapacitate me if it had not first driven me to my knees in effectual appeals to God for strength. How can I impress the holiness of God upon this innocent boy's mind? 

I've done a lot of thinking about why why adults seem to enjoy quiet much more than children. I enjoy sitting in quiet and just looking at a cloud, but the endeavor bores my son almost to barbarity. I'm inclined to think that it's because I've been exposed to much more content that I struggle to reconcile with the goodness of creation, and in those quiet moments my subconscious finds liberty to till its soil which has been hardened and salted by all the awful turmoil made discretely apparent to me by so many mundane activities outside. Every homeless person I see is potentially me and my family, every broken or burned house mine, every police officer protecting us from us, every cloud of pollutants a cancer cell in our bellies. But my son sees these things and his thoughts on them seem dictated solely by my reactions, so what can I do but project confidence in his security and safety, and give generously to all who are in need, so that the world will seem to have some kindness in it? Why should he be stressed about reality now, when that stress is a certainty for all adults, and the innocence he now has, once lost, can never be regained? And yet, if I fail to prepare him, he will surely be harmed.

One of the men at church comforted me, though. He said to me that there are all kinds of men; some who exchange financial security for time at home, and others who exchange time at home for financial security. Some who are fun and adventurous, some who are stoic and wise. He said to me that not all fathers have to be the same in order to be good dads, and maybe my skills have limited my options; maybe I'm just not built to be X kind of dad, but I should rather capitalize on my strengths by being Y kind of dad in the most consistent way possible. It was hurtful, but also extremely comforting to hear him say that. But I actually don't know what kind of dad I am, or how to be that dad in a good way. All I can do is keep trying my best, right? But what is burnout? Is that something I need to watch out for, or will my concern for my son well up into endless reserves of nervous energy, compelling me to more and more acts of fatherishness? And how can I take care of myself without sacrificing too much time? What is the most efficient way for me to rejuvenate myself?

All this and more I don't understand. Maybe it's ok to not understand, and it's best to be frustrated with my lack of understanding, so that the pursuit of perfection will yield constant improvement and sanctification. Maybe this frustrated and confused mode of feverish desire for goodness is truly the ideal state for a person in my circumstances, with my limitations...

"But what do I know?"