Give It All Up In Hope

Fatherhood particularly when raising four young children under five is a swift, sanctifying journey into self-denial. In the trenches of sleepless nights, never-ending needs, and the constant press of little hands and voices, a man learns to die. Not symbolically, not abstractly but really and daily. The room for “me time” doesn’t merely shrink; it disappears. And what replaces it is something eternally better.

Anthony Esolen writes, “The father throws himself away in hope.” It’s a stunning phrase, evoking the image of a man who, knowing his name may one day be reduced to a whisper in family lore, still chooses to spend his strength for the good of those who will outlive him. He hands down his tools, his wisdom, and his prayers, not for applause, but for legacy a holy seed sown in the soil of sacrifice.

Fatherhood is a kind of death, but a beautiful one. The married man, Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 7, is anxious about worldly things how to please his wife and his interests are divided. Add children to that equation, and the demands multiply. But it’s in those demands, in that daily burial of self, that the paradox of Christian living comes to life: “Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life” (John 12:25).

Jesus likens this mystery to a seed. “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit” (John 12:24). In other words, the life hoarded is the life lost. The life given joyfully, fully, continually is the life multiplied.

Do we not see this around us? The man clinging to his independence, the woman white-knuckling her solitude, the couple whose dreams never bent toward others these lives often end in sterile loneliness. “My kingdom come, my will be done” is a fast road to despair.

But the Christian life, the Christian father's life, is fundamentally different. It is a fruitful death where each small surrender, each postponed plan, each weary yes to children’s laughter and chaos becomes a deposit in heaven’s economy.

Consider the story of Joseph. The writer of Hebrews doesn’t emphasize his wisdom in Egypt or his dramatic reunion with his brothers. Instead, Hebrews 11:22 remembers this: “By faith Joseph, at the end of his life, made mention of the exodus of the Israelites and gave directions concerning his bones.”

His final act was not about comfort but about conviction. He believed God’s promises so fully that he made Israel swear to carry his bones to the Promised Land a place he would never see in this life. Fathers of faith think long. They live today with a vision of tomorrow not the next weekend, but the next generation.

Our calling is the same. As we wear grooves in old tools, as we soothe tears and teach truth and carry burdens we can hardly explain, we are sending our bones ahead of us. We are living out faith in real time, in real homes, with real children who, God willing, will one day say, “He was a good man, but his children are better.”

And if our names fade, so be it. Let them fade in the light of Christ's name being made known through the lives we shaped and the faith we passed down.

The math of heaven is upside-down. Proverbs 11:24–25 reminds us:

“One gives freely, yet grows all the richer;
another withholds what he should give, and only suffers want.
Whoever brings blessing will be enriched,
and one who waters will himself be watered.”

Give and grow richer. Pour out and be filled. Die and live. This is the pattern of Christ, and it’s the path He walked ahead of us. Jesus was the seed who fell into the ground and died and now a harvest of sons and daughters fills the earth. We are called to follow in His steps.

So, father, lay down your life. Throw yourself away not in despair, but in hope. Every mundane moment, every bedtime story, every correction, every sacrifice is a seed. Sow it deep. Cover it in prayer. Trust God to bring the increase.

On the other side of this death is life. Not just any life but a life overflowing with joy, legacy, and the eternal fruit of faithfulness. In the presence of God, the once-tired hands will lift in praise, and the once-dimmed heart will pulse with unending light. Your name may fade from memory, but the impact of your faith will echo in eternity.

Live now for the land you'll enter later. Sow now what you’ll reap forever. Throw yourself away in hope, and heaven will be returned to you.

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