Windows of Opportunity

By Rich Wagner

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times. It just depended on who you were talking to … Charles Francis Adams was a prominent political figure during the mid-nineteenth century. Politics was in his bloodline—he was, after all, the grandson of President John Adams. But it was also his passion. Armed with a Puritan’s work ethic and sense of duty, Charles believed his time and energy should be devoted to public service and government. His resume speaks to his devotion—Massachusetts state representative, state senator, vice presidential nominee, congressman, and U.S. ambassador to Britain during the Lincoln Administration. Charles was the father of four sons, but given his preoccupation with work, he was not around his family that much.

However, because the members of the Adams family were regular journalers, we know that on at least one occasion he managed to take his eight-year-old son, Brook, fishing. Brook was deeply affected by the experience and wrote in his diary about his father-&-son outing when he returned home that evening, “Went fishing with my father; the most glorious day of my life!” 

When I first read Brook’s account, I thought that Charles, as busy as he was, was able to relax and enjoy the brief time away with his son and give him his full attention. Perhaps Charles even got a bit misty-eyed thinking about how quickly Brook was growing up. But when I dove further into the story, I discovered that I was plain wrong. Charles may have been pleasant enough with his son, but his mind was somewhere else. He logged an entry in his diary for that day saying, “Went fishing with my son today; a day wasted.”  Clearly, Charles would have rather been at the office getting work done than fishing with his son.

As the story of Charles Francis Adams shows, the years of fatherhood come at the most inconvenient time for a man. He begins to grow his family at around the same age in which he builds his career. It is not long before the boundary lines are set for the battle over his heart. A playpen or a promotion. Diapers or dollars. Noogies or networking. Happy Meals or hobnobbing.

For many men, the deck is almost stacked against the family at this stage of their lives. The potential of a man’s career is almost too seductive to resist. He is beyond the entry level jobs of his mid-twenties, through with post-graduate programs, and on the verge of peaking professionally. He retains a youthful bravado and energy, but now has experience to back it up. In the back of his mind, he senses that he is approaching the “make or break” point in his career. Based on his performance over the next few years, he will continue to rise up in his profession and gain prominence or end up plateauing into a mid-level existence. With this pressure and purpose, very few men are prone to be reflective or contemplative about their family at this stage of their lives. The kids, after all, are still in diapers or just entering school. I’ll have plenty of time for them once I am established, he reasons.

Remember the scene in Field of Dreams in which Ray Kinsella asks Doc “Moonlight” Graham about his one shining moment in major league baseball—playing in one inning of one game. You’ll recall that Graham was sent up from the minor leagues to the New York Giants three weeks before the end of the season. In spite of his initial excitement over the chance to prove himself, he rode the bench the entire time—that is, until the final inning of the final game. “Graham,” shouts the manager. “Right field.” Graham eagerly dashes out to his position hoping at last to make a play. But three quick outs later, the ball never even makes it out of the infield, bringing an end to the season and his best shot at the majors. Unable to bear the thought of being sent back down to the minors the next season, Graham decided to retire and become a doctor instead. As Graham shares with Ray his memories, he looks back at his life and says, “You know, we just don’t recognize the most significant moments of our lives while they’re happening. Back then I thought, well, there’ll be other days. I didn’t realize that that was the only day.”

In this scene, I love the way Moonlight Graham nails it—he perfectly captures something I call the Myth of Other Days that dogs so many men. When a man has kids growing up in his home, time goes by quickly. But not that quickly. When the kids are young, the moments really do seem like they will last forever. He can easily lull himself into believing that “there’ll be other days” once he takes care of business.

Maybe it is the life-or-death reality of the setting, but Everest climbers do not fall victim to these kinds of myths and procrastinations. They know that the secret of conquering Everest is timing. It matters little when the climbing team would like to go or what is most convenient for their schedule. Instead, it’s the weather that dictates the summit attempt.

For over 250 days a year, Everest is held hostage by violent, hurricane-force winds from the jet stream that savage the peak with bursts up to 200 mph. Not to be outdone, storm clouds rise from the surrounding valleys to barrage the mountain with snow. No climber would ever try for the summit in this weather or he would literally be blown off of the mountain. However, twice a year, during the months of May and September, Everest is granted a reprieve. Warm monsoon air comes from the south to push the jet stream high over the summit, creating a short, calm window of ideal climbing weather. These weather windows last only a handful of days, but they produce clear skies and winds as little as 5-20 mph.

As an expedition team acclimatizes for several weeks, its leader uses satellite and internet technology to continuously monitor meteorological reports. His job is to locate a five-day window of stable weather and then correctly position his team on the mountain to be able to make a summit attempt once an exact date and time is set. An experienced leader keeps an eye on the meteorological forecasts but knows there are local weather systems on the mountains that the reports cannot predict. In the end, the leader has to develop a natural instinct for when to go and when to stay. He risks the lives of every member of the team if he is gung-ho and cavalier. But at the same time, he cannot afford to wait until the “perfect” conditions come along either. Since his team is waiting at extreme altitude, they grow physically weaker and weaker as time goes on. If he holds out too long, then the team will lose any opportunity at all to go for the summit.

The weather window on Everest parallels the short season of life that you and I have to spend time with and influence our children. Like an Everest climber, we are not free to decide when it is most convenient to play dad. Our children do. For a time, God grants us a window of opportunity—several years to mold and shape the hearts and minds of our children. But if we wait too long, we will miss our chance and the window will close forever. Let’s make the most of it—today.

Based on an excerpt from Rich Wagner’s The Expeditionary Man: The Adventure a Man Wants, the Leader His Family Needs. To purchase the book click here!