Chasing gold in Canada

I’m seeking salvation this summer in Canada. Not in some cloistered monastery or atop a snow-capped mountain, but in a soccer tournament: the Women’s World Cup.

You see, I’m a soccer dad. Weeknights and weekends in fall and spring find me at a soccer practice or game for my three daughters: Naomi, 15, who plays for Roanoke Catholic School’s varsity team; Emily, 12, a starter on Roanoke Catholic’s middle school team; and feisty 10-year-old Meg.

Their love of soccer comes naturally. My wife, Julia, was their first coach -- indeed the first coach for dozens of girls in our small Virginia town where she’s also the local doctor.

As for me, I’m the transportation -- a soccer chauffeur. I drive where I’m told to drive and pickup when told to pick up.

Soccer dad.

I grew up playing baseball, football and basketball. American sports. When I thought about my future as a father, there was always a son in the picture, glove in hand, us playing catch. The son never happened. Neither did the glove and ball. Instead, it’s girls and soccer.

And I couldn’t be happier. So much so that on June 4, I’m loading up my girls in an RV for a month to follow the U.S. Women’s National Team on their journey through the World Cup. I’ll be posting trip updates to my blog, www.WorldCupSoccerDad.com, though I’m the first to admit that combining “World Cup” and “Dad” to describe me is more aspirational than actual.

For too long, I’ve been a passive father, though my resume would suggest otherwise. When our first daughter was born, I left my job as a newspaper reporter to be a stay-at-home dad. That fact alone gave me cache in the parenting world. Many stay-at-home moms I met felt pressured -- from society, from themselves, -- to produce perfect children to justify their decision to quit their careers.

As for me? I got a pat on the back if my girls were simply clothed. Never mind matching outfits and brushed hair, appropriate snacks and BPA-free water bottles.

I took advantage of this parental hall pass, and I got complacent. I didn’t commit a major moral lapse, nothing to trouble the priest about. But I became less interested in disciplining my daughters (and I use that word in its Biblical sense: guiding them to be disciples of Christ) as I allowed myself to be distracted by things of this world. A small business I started, a new newspaper column, some volunteer work, a book project -- all this sure made it convenient to overlook household duties and stay true to what should be my first responsibility: shepherding a Godly family.

Catholicism compels us to a life of faith and works, whereas Protestants profess sola fide, or “by faith alone.” In a twisted way, I’d adopted a “works alone” lifestyle -- whiling away at a variety of tasks without the faith ... and without the fruit of that faith, which is joy.

I was in … crisis? Too strong. Turmoil? Not quite.

Perhaps Walker Percy said it best: malaise. The everydayness of life.

And my malaise infected my family. We clung too tightly to petty grievances. We bickered too often. We were frustrated with each other, frustrated with ourselves, and to some extent with our faith.

No more.

About a year ago, I chose to change. I say "chose" because as Catholic Christians we don't submit to a passive life. Ultimately it comes down to a choice. Am I satisfied with my lot?

I wasn't.

I began paying attention to the dirty dishes. I lowered my voice. Or I tried. I shot more basketballs, threw more frisbees, played more soccer. At their school I started a choir. I led blessings at meals … and meant them. I learned to love their company. I learned joy.

And I thought up this trip to Canada, because I am now committed to making my family a better team. And a month in an RV seems a pretty good way to do just that.

We will travel some beautiful country, figure out how to live real real close, and learn to be better fans of each other while being fanatic about our U.S. Women’s National Team.

My dream ... no, it’s more concrete than that, more Catholic. My hope is that as the U.S. women work their way to Vancouver and that golden World Cup trophy, that we as a family end up champions, too.

Stay tuned!