I really love holidays to remember the special people in my life and the roles they play (or have played). I have had and continue to have some great men in my life, so Father's Day is no exception. But it's not all happiness and roses for many, myself included: it's often a reminder of the things missing in our life.
This is my 12th Father's Day without my dad, and the 10th without my grandpa. Both were wonderful men whose example and love continue to be a grace to me. Each year when Father's Day ads and cards show up after Mother's Day, I feel an aching sadness in my heart... still. The first year without my dad, I went shopping at Target and naively walked past the card isle. I totally lost my cool right there in the middle of Target, y'all. It was an authentic, raw sorrow that I couldn't fake if I wanted to. After that experience, I made more concerted efforts to avoid such experiences. A couple of years passed, and I lost my (only) grandpa. Avoidance of the card isle in late May and early June became a norm for me.
I came to a place of mourning every Father's Day. Not just for my losses, but for all the fatherless: for those who have never known a father, for those who knew only a poor example for a father, for those who lost their fathers somewhere along life's journey, etc. But by the grace of God, I soon came to mourn with hope. The reason the lack/loss of fathers is weighty and worth mourning is because their role in life is meant to be a picture of a greater things, that we might have a sense of the weight and good news that their is a good, loving Father in heaven for those who are redeemed.
This is my 12th Father's Day without my dad, and the 10th without my grandpa. Both were wonderful men whose example and love continue to be a grace to me. Each year when Father's Day ads and cards show up after Mother's Day, I feel an aching sadness in my heart... still. The first year without my dad, I went shopping at Target and naively walked past the card isle. I totally lost my cool right there in the middle of Target, y'all. It was an authentic, raw sorrow that I couldn't fake if I wanted to. After that experience, I made more concerted efforts to avoid such experiences. A couple of years passed, and I lost my (only) grandpa. Avoidance of the card isle in late May and early June became a norm for me.
I came to a place of mourning every Father's Day. Not just for my losses, but for all the fatherless: for those who have never known a father, for those who knew only a poor example for a father, for those who lost their fathers somewhere along life's journey, etc. But by the grace of God, I soon came to mourn with hope. The reason the lack/loss of fathers is weighty and worth mourning is because their role in life is meant to be a picture of a greater things, that we might have a sense of the weight and good news that their is a good, loving Father in heaven for those who are redeemed.
But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” -Galatians 4:4-6
Today, while I celebrate my husband and the good father he is (and I can search through Father's Day cards without tears!), I also mourn and pray for fathers and the fatherless. I pray for fathers to be caring servant-leaders in their families, loving their wives as Christ loved the church, disciplining their children in love, and being present and active in the lives of their kiddos. I pray for the fatherless to be able to mourn without shame, and that their losses point them to the great hope of our Father in heaven, knowing that the love of God our Father is without bounds.
I was thinking of you and the others I know who have lost their dads. Thanks for the great post. Praying for you!
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