Taken from his Facebook page after Father’s Day but so needed to be seen by many.

 

   Sometimes it happens over a conference call line, with a guy I’ve gotten to know well, but whom I’ve never met in person. Sometimes it happens in a church lounge or classroom. More times than I can count, it happens in a coffee shop or across a meal.

     Ah, those moments.

Those moments where a man begins to understand, perhaps for the very first time, how much of his life has been impacted by his father.

     Almost always, there are tears.

Sometimes the tears are largely joyful, as a man begins to see with gratitude how his dad fought for him and taught him, even if imperfectly.

For others, the tears are indicative of some wound, perhaps never until now consciously acknowledged; stinging again, fresh, as if the injury – physical, emotional, spiritual – had just occurred. An absence. A heavy-handedness. Even a harsh word spoken at a critical moment in time.

     Sometimes, the emotion flows from a heart-stab of realization that they themselves have failed in some or many ways as a father. I certainly have felt that pang.

Without fail, however, because of the situation these men have chosen to put themselves in, coming to this table out of an intentional and earnest longing to become the men God created them to be, those overwhelming heartbreak sensations, regrets, and stirrings of Thanksgiving become bound up and find their focus and meaning in the Father of us all, someone who celebrates the victories of human fatherhood and, with equal fervor, redeems the failures.

     The God who knows that he is the only perfect Father and yet is eager to call us sons and daughters, to walk alongside and strengthen and redeem and celebrate every relationship, for those who want it.

     The God who created human fatherhood because we were created in his image.

To both my dad and my dad-in-law, thank you for leading us so well. While we all think that you are pretty special in and of yourselves, I know that you would tell us all that any success you have had as dads is only because you have followed THE Father. Perhaps. In any case, please know that your lives are having a greater generational impact than you will ever know this side of eternity.

     To the dads who are out there living intentionally, if imperfectly, thank you for your examples, and keep up the great work!

     To those dads who are bound by shame, living life in part lit by the flame of failure, I see you. It’s never too late, by the power of THE Father, to experience redemption in those relationships where you are now battling regrets.

     And to those who thought they would be (or still be) fathers but are not, there are plenty of “kids” out there who are hungry for someone to lead and to love them as surrogate and spiritual fathers. Thanks in advance for coming to the table.

Happy Father’s Day friends.

 

Phillip lives in Loisville, KY, and attended Portland Christian School and Lipscomb University.