You're never ready for kids

We're just waiting for a few years.
I just don't think we're ready for that yet.
We want to make sure it's the right time.

My wife and I said and thought all of the above. And then she got pregnant. Sure, we planned—as much as a human with extremely limited virtually zero control over the substantial events of life can plan such things.

Our daughter was born while I was essentially between jobs and starting a new business because applying to hundreds of jobs hadn't panned out. Sixteen months later, our son was born. And then 15 months after that, we had our youngest son.

We now have what folks would call a FULL HOUSE. When people see us, they say, "Wow, you're busy."

It's more than a full-time job. Even with Especially with a mom and a dad who are deeply invested in their kids.

In the four years since our daughter was born, we've moved a whopping six times. I started a business that seemed to fizzle out mid-flight. We experienced lots of upheaval with respect to our living situation and finances.

If it had been up to us, we probably would have delayed having kids until we "arrived at a stable place." We might as well waited to find Bigfoot or capture a unicorn.

Having kids is perhaps the single most disruptive thing that you can do in your life. They disrupt everything—your sleep, your dinners, conversations with your spouse, the margin in your schedule, your ability to take a weekend nap, your control over what's played on the radio in your car, your finances, your emotions, and everything else. Their tiny hands grab ahold of your heart and flip it inside out faster than you can say warp speed.

Perfect stability is a pipe dream. The most stable thing that we have is the love we share within our home. That might sound like a piece of wall art from Hobby Lobby, but it's absolutely true.

And here's the biggest thing I've learned over the past four years: You're never ready to have kids.

You never have enough money to make all the questions and struggles go away. Having kids shows you where your priorities are and where they ought to be.

You can't read enough parenting books to know how exactly to diffuse the timebomb of a public grocery store meltdown. There's no "right" technique for correction or consolation. You find your voice as a parent and you figure it out as you go along, which sometimes requires an apology or three from you.

You never have enough emotional poise and spiritual maturity such that you breeze through parenting like a wooden canoe on a glass lake. Having kids shows you where you need to grow, and in parenting gives you the opportunity to change.

Nothing could have prepared me for the challenges of being a parent. It's trial by fire. It's the school of life 24/7/365.

At the same time, no one could have expressed the joy that comes from seeing them around the dinner table, from hearing their prayers about fire trucks and good days together as a family, from seeing them learn to crack eggs for breakfast, from hearing them yell "Daddy!" with glee when I come home from work, to seeing them hug each other, from feeling that true I-love-you-arms-wrapped-around-my-neck squeeze.

I'm busy taking care of them, but more importantly, I'm busy soaking in all the moments and memories. This is the youngest they'll ever be.

Today, I'm thankful that God doesn't work in my timing, because His timing is better than I could have dreamed.

You're never ready for the hard. But you can't imagine the beauty and the mystery either.