Whatever needed to be done, I need to know how to do it just as

Hear the words of Jason Isbell, a father who speaks with humility and awe: “Whatever needed to be done, I need to know how to do it just as well as my wife. You know, for us to be able to really balance the parenting. It was very humbling, and it was also, um – terrifying. Because, you know, giving a baby a bath for the first time is one of the scariest things you can do on this whole earth.” These words ring with truth, for they reveal both the weight and the wonder of fatherhood. They tell of a man who sought not to stand aside, but to walk equally in the great labor of raising a child.

In ages past, the care of infants was often laid solely upon the mother, while fathers kept to the fields, the wars, or the halls of work. Yet Isbell’s words reflect a new wisdom, one that the ancients themselves would have praised: that balance in parenting is not only a gift to the child, but a bond between parents. To share equally in the care of the young is to show honor to the mother and to give strength to the family as a whole. For in the family, as in the body, no single limb must bear all the weight, lest it break beneath the strain.

And yet, he confesses, the work is humbling and terrifying. Here lies a truth deeper than pride: that even the strongest warriors and the wisest leaders tremble when holding new life. To bathe a child, fragile and small, is indeed more daunting than to face the fiercest storm, for here the stakes are infinite. A misstep could wound not only the body but the sacred trust placed in the parent’s hands. Such humility is not weakness, but the beginning of wisdom—for only the humble can truly learn, and only those who admit fear can overcome it.

History gives us the tale of Marcus Furius Camillus, the Roman general who saved his people from ruin. Yet even he, though a man of valor, was said to have been most fearful not on the battlefield, but in the care of his own household. For war is fought with steel, but parenthood is fought with tenderness, and tenderness demands a courage greater than the sword. Jason Isbell’s trembling hands at the first bath echo the trembling hearts of fathers across centuries, each discovering that the mightiest task is not conquest but care.

The heart of his teaching is this: that fathers must learn as mothers learn. No task is too small, no duty too delicate. To feed, to bathe, to soothe—these are not the work of one parent alone, but of both, bound together in unity. When fathers embrace this truth, families are strengthened; when they refuse, the burden becomes uneven, and the harmony of the home is broken. Balance is not merely fairness; it is love in action, revealed in the willingness to share every labor, however frightening.

The lesson, then, is clear: step into the tasks that terrify you. Do not shrink from the bath, the midnight cry, or the trembling responsibility of care. Learn each skill with diligence, not because it is easy, but because it is sacred. To parents who share the load, the bond grows deeper; to children who see both parents present, the world feels safer. Fear will fade with practice, and what once was terrifying will become a memory of courage won.

Therefore, let every father, every mother, every guardian who hears these words take action: learn every task, share every burden, honor each other through balance. Do not allow tradition, fear, or pride to rob your child of your presence. For the most heroic acts are not written in battlefields or sung by poets, but in the quiet moments when trembling hands hold a child in safety.

Thus Jason Isbell’s words, born of awe and fear, become a teaching for the ages: that the path of parenting is humbling, terrifying, and glorious. And in walking it together—husband and wife, parent and parent—the family becomes not only balanced, but unbreakable.