I like hats. Over the years, I’ve pared down my collection of them but I still have my favorites.
There’s my Wild Health Genomes hat, paying homage to a minor league baseball team that only lasted for one year in Lexington, Kentucky.
There’s my Alabama Crimson Tide/Atlanta Braves collaboration hat, proudly supporting my two favorite sports teams on one baseball cap.
And there’s my hat from Hawaii celebrating the state’s fish: the Humuhumunukunukuapua’a (with the name wrapping around the entire front and side of the hat).
Hats communicate different things. Paint-splattered hats communicate that I’m ready to get my hands dirty. My Asbury Theological Seminary hat communicates my pride in that institution.
The thing about hats is: they can be taken off. If I don’t want to communicate what a hat communicates, I just don’t wear the hat.
In the English language, we also talk about hats metaphorically.
When you sit down with your accountant friend for dinner and then briefly interrupt to ask a tax question, you may ask her to “put her accountant hat on.”
Or when a coworker leaves his job and you have to cover his responsibilities until a replacement is hired, you might tell people you’re “wearing a lot of hats.”
The figurative hats we wear communicate things about our identities: we’re a lawyer, a Little League coach, an HOA president, a volunteer firefighter, a church member… the hats as varied as each individual.
Recently, though, I’ve been thinking: there’s one hat that I can’t seem to take off.
I can’t take off my Fatherhood hat.
Nine months ago, my wife and I welcomed our baby girl into the world. I always heard that when you have a baby, your life changes forever. I’ve found that to be quite true.
But what I didn’t realize is that the world around me doesn’t change forever.
Don’t get me wrong: I have hopes and dreams that my daughter will change the world. I pray that she’s a kind, Christ-following person who loves people courageously, stands up for justice, and invests in other people so that the world is different because she is in it.
But what I’m saying is that, the day after my daughter was born, most people around me didn’t change.
When I’m driving down the highway, the truck driver next to me doesn’t know that I’m a father. When I’m purchasing something on the Internet, that seller doesn’t know that I’m a father. And when I’m buying yet another carton of formula at Walmart, that cashier doesn’t know that I’m a father (okay, maybe they do…). But their lives aren’t changed just because my life has changed forever.
And yet, even though much of the rest of the world doesn’t recognize that I’m a father, I can’t take that hat off. I can’t take it off on the highway. I can’t take it off while scrolling the Internet. I can’t take it off at Walmart.
Because Fatherhood (and Motherhood) isn’t a hat. It’s an identity.
Now… let me clarify. In a culture that obsesses over childhood performance and accomplishment, it needs to be said that I’m not saying we should find our identity in our children. Whether our child crushes the SAT or a homerun shouldn’t change how we see ourselves or present ourselves to the world. Children shouldn’t have the responsibility of giving you your identity.
But what I am saying is that—as fathers and mothers—we should be finding our identity in the fact that we are fathers and mothers. And to clarify, that’s not our sole identity—we may also have the identity of Christian or a spouse or a child—but it should be a primary identity.
What I find crazy about being a father is that I can never give this part of my identity up, even if I wanted to. I could be fired and no longer be a pastor. I could get fed up with the Braves and no longer support the A. I could move out of state and no longer be an Alabamian.
But being a father is permanent. God forbid, even if my child runs away from home, or disowns me, or dies, nothing can change the fact that I, Hunter Bethea, am a father.
At this point, you may say: “Well, duh. What are you getting at?”
What I’m getting at is this: though it’s a simple concept to recognize that fatherhood or motherhood isn’t a hat that can be taken off, we and our culture sometimes act like it is.
In subtle and not so subtle ways, culture may say: “Take your fatherhood hat off.” Stay late at work, check your email on weekends, drive faster down the Interstate, don’t prioritize your health, go into unnecessary debt.
You and I will need to be countercultural to resist a culture that tries to take off that which can’t be taken off.
But sometimes, it’s not even culture that wants us to take off our fatherhood or motherhood hat. Sometimes, we even pretend like we can take it off.
We might be tempted to get in the car and head to work and subconsciously think, “Whew! Glad I don’t have to be a father right now. This morning was rough.” But whether you file taxes or serve coffee or pastor others, you do so as a father or a mother.
No matter your job, you are helping to shape the world your children will live in. When you file someone’s taxes, you are helping to sustain a nation your child is a citizen of. When you smile as you hand someone their coffee, you start a chain-reaction of joy that gets passed from that person to another to another, making the neighborhood your child grows up in a happier place. When you preach a sermon that calls the church to be a place that disciples others, you are encouraging those who will disciple your own child.
But this goes beyond just your job.
When you scroll through the internet and get tempted to click on a link that does damage to your soul, you’re deciding whether your child’s father or mother has a soul of peace and shalom or anger and lust.
When you choose to save money at the convenience store, you’re deciding to save money that can enable an earlier retirement where you get to help disciple and love on your grandchildren.
When you vote at the ballot box, you’re deciding who you want to shape the future of the city, county, state, or nation that your child will grow up in.
If you are a parent, you and I can’t get away from the fact that being a father or mother is who we are wherever we go.
Some of you may be thinking, “Gee, that’s a lot of pressure.” If every decision you make is as a father or a mother, it may feel crippling to think about making even one decision.
There’s a way this can be taken to an extreme. (Hamburger or hotdog…? Which one do I choose as a father? Do I order cheese as well? Do I, as a father, add mustard?)
Start small. As you go about your day (especially when you are away from your kids), remind yourself: I am a father. I am a mother.
How does that identity change your decisions? Maybe you drive a little more safely down the highway. Maybe you choose a healthier lunch option. Maybe you tell your boss that you can’t stay late.
Frankly, what we’re doing when we think about our identity as father or mother is quite simple: we’re recognizing reality. Fatherhood and motherhood aren’t hats that can be taken off. Something has happened biologically that has changed your life. Whether culture recognizes it or not, you will show up differently because you are different.
Let me tell you one way this idea of fatherhood being central my identity, rather than a hat I can take off, changed my habits and behaviors.
Over the last many years, I’ve had tension in my neck and shoulders. I knew what the cause was (stress) and I knew helpful solutions (massages, relaxation techniques, stretching). But those were time-consuming and, frankly, I was too prideful to do anything about the occasional cricks in my neck and uncomfortable shoulders.
But over the last many months, I’ve been thinking about my health as Hunter the Father and not Hunter the Individual. I get up early and spend some time exercising. I began a yoga routine several times a week. I got back into running. And I even stretch after running.
And all of this because I realize that, as a father and hopefully a future grandfather, I want to get down on the floor with my kids. I want to pick up my grandkids and twirl them around. And I knew that if I wanted to do that in the future, I couldn’t try to take the Fatherhood hat off when I thought it would be convenient now.
Everything we do as fathers and mothers is done with a Fatherhood or Motherhood hat on. So whether you’re Dada, Daddy, Dad, or Pops… Whether you’re Mama, Mommy, Mother, or Mom… Embrace who God has created you to be. Don’t try to take off that which you can’t take off.
Thanks for reading! If you’d like to read some more of my blog posts, check out any of these recent posts!
Hunter Bethea 
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