I hope you had a truly wonderful Fathers Day.
I know we spoke on the phone, but it’s still not the same. I always feel guilty about not seeing you for this celebration. I guess it’s the price I pay for living on another continent, but I would so love to pop over for the day to make you dinner and spoil you a little. Or a lot.
I’ve been thinking about God as my Heavenly Father a lot recently, and you come into the equation for several reasons.
I know we are not supposed to compare God in His Fatherly capacity with our earthly dads (a bit of an unfair comparison, all things considered!), but it’s bound to have an effect on our outlook, on our ability to get our heads around God the Father.
You would be the first person to say you aren’t a perfect father, and I respect you for that so much. It’s not until we have children of our own that we realize how utterly impossible it is to be a perfect parent. (My kids will attest to that one!). But I want to tell you a few truths, just in case you need to hear them.
And hopefully, it might encourage other fathers in their journey.
You always make me laugh. Your sense of humor is undeniable, horrifically corny (which one of mine has inherited- thanks for that!), and quite frankly, I think it helped you survive raising FOUR daughters. It’s you, and I love it.
You have been my support. Always. Every decision I have made, including the biggie to up my family and move across the globe, you cheered us on, promising to pray for us wherever we were. That was huge.
You are the calm in a stormy gaggle of girls. Seriously horizontal. Always chilled, in control, unflappable. When I tried to jump out of my bedroom window at age 13 because I wasn’t allowed to go to youth group, you were cool, calm and collected. You prevented our household from imploding from estrogen overload on numerous occasions. You are a rock.
You never complain. About anything. Ever. Even when you had to get up at 5am each morning for years, to claim limited time in the bathroom (British house, five females, one bathroom- bad combo). You are possibly the most patient man in the world.
You are my spiritual hero. Your passion for the Lord has not dwindled since you were saved when I was 11 years old. You inspire me, spur me on, encourage me, are such an example for your grandchildren, and have such a tremendous legacy to leave one day.
So you might have done things differently in hindsight (wouldn’t we all), and you aren’t perfect.
But you are the perfect dad for ME.
To all the dads out there- your children already have a Heavenly Father who is completely perfect; they just need you to be YOU. For them.
Thanks for being you, Dad,