My wife and I like Los Angeles, but we are planning to move to a much smaller city ASAP in order to raise our daughters in a place that is closer to family members and that has what we consider to be a better environment for kids and families. As a result, I am actively engaged in a nationwide job search. Following a recent interview with a recruiter for a leading retail mortgage lender in Detroit, I had the opportunity to accept a position as a mortgage banker that was ideal in many ways — location, earning potential, etc. — but would have required me to work from 8:00-8:00 five days a week and one Saturday per month. Once I had “proved myself” after a couple of years, some flexibility in scheduling could be arranged. Since we have 19-month and 3-week-old girls, I declined the offer. It wasn't a hard decision to make, but it got me thinking a lot about my priorities in life as a Mormon husband and father.
During the decision-making process, my wife urged me to go to the celestial room of the Mormon temple in Los Angeles, a place of reflection and inspiration, and pray about our tentative decision to turn down the offer. As soon as I entered the celestial room, my mind was drawn to the sacred promises that I had made to my lovely wife on our wedding day in that same building as we created what we believe is an eternal family unit. As I considered the prospect of spending 13-14 hours/day (including the round-trip commute) away from my wife and young daughters, I had the very distinct impression that this would be a violation of the promises that I had made during the temple marriage ceremony. I had to wait for many years to be blessed with a wife and children, and I was positive that God hadn't given them to me so that I could neglect them.
When I was called to be a bishop two years ago, the regional leader instructed me to place my family first, career second, and church third as I considered how to allocate my time. Since I firmly believe that one can learn from bad examples as well as good ones, I thought of examples of parents who had ignored this advice.
One father in particular sprang to mind. During my clerkship at a leading international law firm in Dallas following my first year of law school, the young associates all told me that the firm's managing partner was the poster child for the kind of lawyer who succeeds in the demanding practice of international law. The associates with kids also told me that they rarely got to see their children during the week. While I knew that the managing partner was a workaholic, I was not prepared for his comments during a private meeting following a short trip that I made to Michigan to see my week-old nephew, my sister's first child. The partner proudly told me that although he had several children, he had not taken even one day off work to attend their births. According to him, his wife enjoyed their affluent lifestyle and accepted the fact that she and their children were not the number one priority in his life. His implication clearly was that if I wanted to succeed at his firm, I would have to relegate family concerns to a distant second place. I thanked him for his candor, and walked out of his office feeling very sorry for him and his family. I also thought that he was a moron.
During our very first conversation, my future wife and I talked about the ideal way to raise kids. LDS leaders have always pointed to the man/provider, woman/nurturer arrangement as the ideal, and we decided to emulate the example of every Mormon General Authority (top Mormon leader): to the best of my knowledge, all of their wives stayed home with the kids while their husbands assumed the primary obligation to provide for their families. However, ever since my wedding day I have become acutely aware that God does not sanction the neglect of one's spouse and/or children in order to attain professional goals. When I was called to serve as a bishop, I promised my wife that I would not neglect her or our children as I sought to serve the members of our congregation. It is inconceivable that I would do so in order to sell more mortgages.
If I were to absent myself from my home 13 hours a day, I would miss having breakfast with my oldest daughter (the youngest one is breastfed), my daily morning stroll with both girls, dinner with my family, story time, baths, and bedtime. Weekdays would be much more stressful for my wife, and she and I would have far less time to unwind together at the end of the day. In short, I don't think that I could be a good husband or father if I worked 12 hours a day. OK, I'll go ahead and say it: I don't think that any man can be a good father to very young kids if he works 12 hours a day. I guess that you can try to make it up to them on weekends after neglecting them for five days, but I think that young kids and long-suffering wives deserve better than that. I recall a painful conversation with the daughter of an LDS regional leader who only saw her attorney father on Sunday nights. I was single at the time, and have to admit that I didn't have the same level of respect for him afterwards.
Of course, I am referring here only to people who choose to spend long hours away from their families, not those who have to (e.g., single parents or those who have to work several jobs in order to make ends meet). I have known many Jewish and Mormon fathers and mothers who choose to work long hours, and now that I'm a father I don't have a great deal of admiration for them. They are of course free to make whatever lifestyle choices they wish, but since the family is central to both of our faiths, I remain baffled as to why an involved Mormon or Jewish father with young children would choose to be a 12-hour-a-day mortgage banker. For me the job search continues.