The why behind the what

So this is why I have a manblog...

We are sitting at the lunch table and I am minding my own business finishing off the Sunchips when out of no where, Kylie crushes the remaining chips! For no good reason! I appeal to my 2 daughters for support, taking a teaching moment for them to understand how wrong it is to do that and implant in their forming minds the evil of crushing another person's chips. Instead of loving support and outrage, the girls support their mother. No sympathy, no tears, no righteous indignation. (The "facts" of this story are open to interpretation)

That is why I manblog.

Men need a place where they can go and be men for a short time. In no way am I advocating men escaping their responsibilities or fleeing their God given role as provider and lover to their family. Instead, I want to suggest that the private world of a man (not things he does in secret, but a place and space that is his own with his thoughts) prepares him to reenter the world of wives, kids, and potato chips a better man, stronger husband, attentive dad.

But guys, don't take this for granted. Don't leave your family thinking you don't want to be with them. Don't give them an abandonment psychosis. When you leave, remind them how much you can't wait to come back, and then come back when you say. Find a place to be a man: garage, barn, tree stand, gun range, bookstore, coffee shop, den, cabin, sports arena or cab of your truck. See that as sacred space. A place to reconnect with God and for Him to reconnect you to your manhood. Ask Him what it means to be a man. Ask Him for help as you reenter the "family world". And thank your family for letting you go. You don't deserve it for all the hard work you do, it is a grace gift from the most important people in your life.

I love my girls. I love pink, barbies, stuffed animals and doll houses. At least I am growing to love them...but sometimes I like to just go down stairs and stare at my gun. I don't pick it up or touch it. I don't clean it or load it. I just stare. I imagine shooting through cans, hitting the target. I mediate on all things men, smile, and head upstairs. I love my life...but I am a little hungry. I wonder if there are any Sunchips left?