Our Father, Who Art in Heaven
I've never been a big fan of this day.
Father's Day. I tend to regard it with mixed emotions. On the one hand, it's a day that brings out so much pain for me. I honestly don't know if there's any day or any place that makes me feel so left out. I look around at all the smiling kids wearing "My dad rocks!" tee shirts and wish that, corny as it may be, I could wear something similar. I sit through school concerts, award ceremonies and graduations and watch beaming fathers proudly cheer on their children, frequently longing for someone to fill that seat for me. I attend wedding ceremonies and start to panic, realizing I don't know who will walk me down the aisle or if I'll get to have that father-daughter dance. While most days I can handle it, brush it off my shoulders, smile and move on, on this day I can't. Father's Day blatantly reminds me of all that I'm missing out on, and it hurts.
This Father's Day is particularly hard. Today marks the one year anniversary since my mom's boyfriend Troy passed away. I'm not pompous enough to presume that I even understand all I'm feeling about that. I do know my emotions are a little confused and chaotic. I know that I'm grieving with and for my family. I know I was about one more "Are you okay?" away from bawling in the bathroom stall at church this morning. I know I did not expect to spend my Father's Day at the cemetery.
I know my heart aches.
On the other hand, this is also a day that often fills me with thankfulness. One of my favorite psalms, Psalm 68, has lines that describe God as "a father to the fatherless" (v. 5) and one who "sets the lonely in families" (v. 6). I've been unbelievably blessed in my short life in the ways I've gotten to experience these truths. I have a mom who loves me more than I know, even in the midst of all the stress that comes with trying to force two parenting roles into one. I've been distinctly privileged to have men in my life who have stepped up to fill in the gaps. To my father figures--you know who you are--thank you. Thank you for making sure I got to go on daddy-daughter date nights. Thank you for teaching me how to drive a car and paddle a canoe. Thank you for showing up to my senior presentation and my graduation. Thank you for calling me when I'm at school, just to see how I'm doing. Thank you for being ears to listen and shoulders to cry on. Thank you for all the ways I've caught your legacy--from the examples you've set for me in faith to the weird little phrases I now say (I'll unpack that statement later, maybe ;) ). Thanks for setting my bar high. Thanks for showing me Jesus's love on a consistent basis. Thank you for being part of the bigger family my lonely heart longed for. I would not be the woman I am today without a whole village of people who modeled what love and faith look like to the extent you all did.
I'm thankful, though, in other ways. I'm thankful for how I've learned to forgive because of this. The wrongs are not made right and may never be, but I forgive you, dad. I'm thankful for the ways I've learned to love because of this, reaching past traditional familial bonds and bridging that care and commitment into my community. I'm thankful for the passion God's put on my heart for kids from divorced homes or kids with absent parents. I'm thankful for the perspective it's given me for all that I do have and what I hope for when I get married.
What I'm most thankful for, though, is the intimate way in which I can connect to God. He truly is a father to the fatherless; I know that from experience. I am so thankful for all that He's given us- for grace, for mercy, for Christ on the cross, for forgiveness- but today I'm especially thankful for love. Today I'm thankful that when Jesus taught us how to pray, he revolutionized our lives, starting with "Our Father." Not God. Not Lord. Not Master, though all those names are more than true. No, He said Father, a title that's closer to our hearts than almost any other. A good father knows his kids, and he knows them well. A good father is there through the high points and the low. A good father roots for the best for his children, but he disciplines them when required, recognizing that they need that, too, to thrive. A good father cares. A good father loves.
God's a pretty good father. The best, even. And you know what?
He's ours.
So happy Father's Day, friends. Happy Father's Day to the men in your life who have been there for you. Happy Father's Day to the men in my life who have been there for me. Most of all, though, happy Father's Day to the one who created the universe, the one who can move mountains, who can walk on water and cause the dead to rise-- and who looked out on His creation and picked me for His child.
Yes, friends, I think today is a good day.
Father's Day. I tend to regard it with mixed emotions. On the one hand, it's a day that brings out so much pain for me. I honestly don't know if there's any day or any place that makes me feel so left out. I look around at all the smiling kids wearing "My dad rocks!" tee shirts and wish that, corny as it may be, I could wear something similar. I sit through school concerts, award ceremonies and graduations and watch beaming fathers proudly cheer on their children, frequently longing for someone to fill that seat for me. I attend wedding ceremonies and start to panic, realizing I don't know who will walk me down the aisle or if I'll get to have that father-daughter dance. While most days I can handle it, brush it off my shoulders, smile and move on, on this day I can't. Father's Day blatantly reminds me of all that I'm missing out on, and it hurts.
This Father's Day is particularly hard. Today marks the one year anniversary since my mom's boyfriend Troy passed away. I'm not pompous enough to presume that I even understand all I'm feeling about that. I do know my emotions are a little confused and chaotic. I know that I'm grieving with and for my family. I know I was about one more "Are you okay?" away from bawling in the bathroom stall at church this morning. I know I did not expect to spend my Father's Day at the cemetery.
I know my heart aches.
On the other hand, this is also a day that often fills me with thankfulness. One of my favorite psalms, Psalm 68, has lines that describe God as "a father to the fatherless" (v. 5) and one who "sets the lonely in families" (v. 6). I've been unbelievably blessed in my short life in the ways I've gotten to experience these truths. I have a mom who loves me more than I know, even in the midst of all the stress that comes with trying to force two parenting roles into one. I've been distinctly privileged to have men in my life who have stepped up to fill in the gaps. To my father figures--you know who you are--thank you. Thank you for making sure I got to go on daddy-daughter date nights. Thank you for teaching me how to drive a car and paddle a canoe. Thank you for showing up to my senior presentation and my graduation. Thank you for calling me when I'm at school, just to see how I'm doing. Thank you for being ears to listen and shoulders to cry on. Thank you for all the ways I've caught your legacy--from the examples you've set for me in faith to the weird little phrases I now say (I'll unpack that statement later, maybe ;) ). Thanks for setting my bar high. Thanks for showing me Jesus's love on a consistent basis. Thank you for being part of the bigger family my lonely heart longed for. I would not be the woman I am today without a whole village of people who modeled what love and faith look like to the extent you all did.
I'm thankful, though, in other ways. I'm thankful for how I've learned to forgive because of this. The wrongs are not made right and may never be, but I forgive you, dad. I'm thankful for the ways I've learned to love because of this, reaching past traditional familial bonds and bridging that care and commitment into my community. I'm thankful for the passion God's put on my heart for kids from divorced homes or kids with absent parents. I'm thankful for the perspective it's given me for all that I do have and what I hope for when I get married.
What I'm most thankful for, though, is the intimate way in which I can connect to God. He truly is a father to the fatherless; I know that from experience. I am so thankful for all that He's given us- for grace, for mercy, for Christ on the cross, for forgiveness- but today I'm especially thankful for love. Today I'm thankful that when Jesus taught us how to pray, he revolutionized our lives, starting with "Our Father." Not God. Not Lord. Not Master, though all those names are more than true. No, He said Father, a title that's closer to our hearts than almost any other. A good father knows his kids, and he knows them well. A good father is there through the high points and the low. A good father roots for the best for his children, but he disciplines them when required, recognizing that they need that, too, to thrive. A good father cares. A good father loves.
God's a pretty good father. The best, even. And you know what?
He's ours.
So happy Father's Day, friends. Happy Father's Day to the men in your life who have been there for you. Happy Father's Day to the men in my life who have been there for me. Most of all, though, happy Father's Day to the one who created the universe, the one who can move mountains, who can walk on water and cause the dead to rise-- and who looked out on His creation and picked me for His child.
Yes, friends, I think today is a good day.
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