“A roof is a man-made thing.” Matthew McConaughey, Greenlights
In the fall of 2020, our country was in the middle of an emotionally charged political season. Like many others, I was wrapped up in the news, debates, media, and personal, let’s just say intense, conversations. This is common for most people during a presidential election season, but this one was different. We were also navigating through something that most of us on the planet had never experienced, a world-wide pandemic. This brought an exponentially heightened level of stress for the unknown. For years, and including this particular season, I spent an average of three hours a day driving. I devoured audio books, all non-fiction, and some were dry topics in the self-help genre. I had just finished a book that was emotionally heavy, and with everything else going on in the world, I needed a break. My mind was about to explode.
When Matthew McConaughey’s book, Greenlights, came out that same fall of 2020, it popped up on my Audible account. When I saw that he also narrated it, I thought, “Alright, alright, alright.” Sorry (had to do that). When I finished the book, I recommended it to my brother with my book review consisting of only one word, “Refreshing.” This is the same word I gave to my wife, when just the other day, she came across it in our Audible account. She started listening to it. A couple of days ago she barged into my office and said, “Hey, you gotta listen to this.” She played about a thirty second clip that ended with the quote from above. This is a topic she and I had been discussing recently and these words were very powerful to us in the season that we are currently in.
I’m not sure if Matthew is the first to say these words, but I am grateful that he spoke them. What was refreshing is here you have what felt like a conversation between two men. One is talking (Matthew) and one is listening (me). Two men, who do not have to agree on every detail of our worldviews, but can share, listen, and learn with mutual respect. I may or may not ever meet Matthew to discuss things further, but I respect and appreciate men who are bold and yet, humble, enough to share with others who might listen. How do I know that he respects me? Because even though he doesn’t know me personally, he invited me to hear his deepest, most sacred, personal thoughts; much like what I do in my own writing. This is something that, generally speaking, men are not great at. When a man shares in this way, you know you have his respect and trust. Maybe it was just good timing for me, but this was “refreshing.”
A Roof is a Man-Made Thing
Now that I have given the proper credit, lets dive into what this means, especially in how it pertains to fathers and sons. A roof is important for a man to provide for his family for obvious reasons, and maybe some that are not.
A roof is protection. The obvious purpose of a roof is to withstand the elements of mother nature. It serves as a shield and insulation from most of what Mother Nature might throw at it. If you have read my tornado series, then you know I am grateful for the section of roof that stayed nailed down over my wife and youngest son’s heads.
A roof is security. A boy knows that he can go outside and have as much adventure as he desires, and when something goes wrong, a bad day at school, a bully was on the bus, a stranger steps on the property, etc, he can run back to the protection of that roof. That roof sits on four walls and a door that locks. For some, that roof sits behind even extra lines of defense such as gates, a fence, dogs, cameras, or an alarm system. Even if that roof is only tested a few times a year, depending on where you live, it provides a sense of peace and safety when you go to bed each night.
A roof is leverage. It provides a place for the above two things to happen and a father knows this. Therefore, of all the things that parents provide for their families, he chooses the “roof” to hang over his kids’ heads (pun intended) during a heated disciplinary moment. He knows he can drive his point home with this phrase, “As long as you live under my roof, you’ll do what I say.” I’m pretty sure that I gave my dad ample opportunities to say this one during my childhood.
A roof is forgiveness. Yes, it buys a man a free pass. Let me explain. I’m sure you have heard this statement from grown men many times, “My dad _____” (fill in the blank with…didn’t make much money, didn’t talk much, was never there, was an alcoholic, cheated on my momma, etc), “but he put food on the table and a roof over our head.” A dad was considered a man and forgiven for wrongdoings if he did those two crucial things. Obviously, the roof did not really provide forgiveness for those deeper wounds. But every man deeply wants to find and say something positive about his father, even if the roof is the only thing they can come up with. Providing a roof and keeping food on the table is something to be proud of your father for.
A roof is a foundational lesson. In an earlier post, A Fatherhood Lesson From the Greatest Cowboy, I discussed how a father inherits a toolbox from his father. He takes away some tools and adds some new ones. He then passes them along to his son who continues the same process. Although I own literal toolboxes that came from my grandpas, I am speaking metaphorically. The toolbox describes how we father our children. We decide whether we are going to use the same tools our dad did, mix and match, or start from scratch because our father did not have any tools worth using or there just was no father to inherit one from. Many times, one tool can do the same job as another tool, just in a different way. In these cases, the tool is not what is important, it is how we use it. It is the purpose, motive, and intention behind its use that creates the value. Providing a roof is not one of these tools. A roof is a roof, and a father providing a roof is must. For every son who leaves home and decides to begin his own family, step one is providing a roof.
A roof is man-made. I have said a lot to finally get to this one. Matthew, in seven words, eloquently said what it took me over fifteen hundred to convey. When my wife had me listen to the quote, the words you just read are what raced through my mind. He reminded us that although a roof has many purposes, it is still man-made. We get so accustomed to living underneath one, working underneath one, driving here and there underneath one, that we forget to look up to see the vast possibilities that are out there. We forget to dream and dream big. We confine ourselves to something that we made. God did not place a roof over our heads. Although I believe He knew we would eventually need one, maybe He was teaching us this lesson. He didn’t put it there, we did!
Fathers, please provide a roof over your son’s head. But do not stop there. Teach him this lesson. Explain to him why there is a roof and explain that it is man-made. A man-made object can be taken down, it can be expanded, it can be moved, it can be destroyed and then rebuilt. A roof was never meant to contain his purpose. His purpose, his value, and his dreams can extend through the whole earth, and for some, beyond.
Although my wife and I loved this quote for the relevant reasons and reach that we are pursuing, I could not help but relate this message to fathers and sons. It is what I do! I do not write out of my perfection, but out of my reflection. Perfection as a father (earthly speaking) does not exist. Failure does, but it does not define a father. A father must choose what he does with failure. Does he build a roof over it and plop in his favorite chair, or does he rise and try again, and again, and again…? I choose to build a roof over my family for the reasons mentioned above. But as for my failures, my dreams, my reach, and my purpose, a roof cannot contain them. I need more room to deal with those. I hope you feel the same way and I hope you teach your son as well.
Mr. McConaughey, well said brother.
