The act of becoming a father is relatively simple. Unless you were distracted by a lovely lady during biology class, and now you cannot recall what goes where or you're shooting blanks. All jokes aside, becoming a dad is easy. BEING a dad is a completely different bag of tricks. I am not a father, nor do I plan on being one anytime soon (please be patient, Mom and Dad), but fathers amaze me. My pops, grandpas, and Our Heavenly Father aka Papa, transform what I believe it means to be a father. They are a prime example through success and failure as fathers because no dad is perfect. I pay close attention to my dad and hope I'm listening to Papa because I understand how crucial a father's role is. Here are my two cents on BEING a daddy. Let's hope it fits the bill.

Fathers are present. (Not to be confused with the homophone present found under the Christmas tree, but their presence is truly a gift). The physical presence of fathers should be a standard. More importantly, fathers must be emotionally, mentally and spiritually present. Any guy can sit in a Lazy Boy and rot like a lump on a log while watching TV. Meanwhile, his kids are recreating "American Ninja Warrior" in the living room; begging for his presence with each leap and shriek. We need more fathers present emotionally, mentally and spiritually. My dad is present in every facet. He is a storyteller. He loves to laugh. He is not afraid to cry. I especially enjoy his spiritual presence. We B.S. and play P.I.G. on the driveway hoop with a backdrop of a thinned ponderosa stand and sweet aroma of vanilla emanating from the bark. After a competitive game of P.I.G., my dad will say something along the lines of, "Geez, son. Check out this view. We are blessed." That is my kind of church. This may seem so simple, but to me, this is the definition of presence. I challenge all fathers to be more present. Leave work at the front door. Set the cell phone down. Be present with family.

Fathers give grace generously. When I think of grace in relation to dads, a little tune by George Strait plays in my head, "It's a love without end, amen." In "Love Without End, Amen," a father passes on the secret of his love to his child. The secret: a father's love never ends. When I think of fathers unconditionally pouring out grace, I also think of the prodigal son. To summarize this fantastic Bible story, a son goes galavanting off into the sunset with disregard of everything given to him. He ends up face down in the dirt with nothing except shame, yet he returns home. The son runs home and cries to his father; apologizing profusely for countless mistakes. The father doesn't see the follies of his son, instead, he fires up the grill and starts an epic shindig to celebrate the returnee. This story perfectly represents the Heavenly Father's love for his children. It's a grace-filled relationship. Grace includes the freedom to choose. We are free to play in the mud. Papa and our earthly fathers are always ecstatic to be throwing a party for us, including an enormous bear hug, regardless of muddy clothes.

Lastly, dads maintain a level of vulnerability. Most men have a tendency to reinforce the walls around their hearts to uphold a false sense of masculinity; a macho man mask. Real fathers forget the facade. They make themselves vulnerable to their families by opening up their hearts. Caution: fathers must share feelings. My dad will never shy away from an opportunity to say "I love you." They share their weaknesses and strengths. I often witness my old man say he struggles with certain situations and he wants to improve the situation by improving himself. Weakness becomes the strength. A father also seizes every moment to be a weirdo. This is another form of vulnerability. My dad is a champion of lip sync battles, driving under the influence of dance and the occasional selfie. I love it. No matter how embarrassing, we all have to admit that we love watching our fathers be unashamed dingbats. When dads make themselves vulnerable, the bonds formed are beautiful.

Because of my earthly and heavenly dads, I am centered and present with those around me. I gladly and freely give grace, and I am unafraid to open up my heart and be vulnerable. I'm not a dad, so what do I know? I know I'm the child of a super dope dad and an amazing father. I challenge fathers everywhere to be present, grace-filled and vulnerable. Will you accept the challenge or nah?

P.S.: Happy Father's Day, daddio!