Father’s Day is always a really interesting day for me. My father passed away when I was five. I have memories of him, but not many. My mother never remarried. My uncles played a significant role and demonstrated to me the character of what a father is. I cherish those memories and their witness. When I grew up and had a child of my own, I was completely excited about the relationship my daughter would have with her father. That was short-lived as he exited her life when she was about seven years old. I found myself repeating the pattern that I’d experienced with my mother. Years later, when I met and married my husband, I watched him fulfill the same responsibilities as my uncle with my daughter. For that I am appreciative, and nonetheless, when Father’s Day emerges, I can’t help but think about how life would have unfolded had Henry Helms still been alive, or at the very least alive longer than my age of 5. Forty-three years later, I still miss him. And so, on Father’s Day as I reflect and get a bit misty, I am grateful that my heavenly Father gets my state of perplexity and ushers me into his arms.
Whether on Father’s Day or any other day, God is nigh. He does for me what I imagined my father would have done had he lived. He encourages me (Psalm 43:5), He cares for me (1 Peter 5:7), He corrects me (Hebrews 12:6), He loves me (John 3:16), He calls me friend (John 15:15), He reminds me of my purpose (Jeremiah 29:11), He affirms how I look (Psalm 139:14) and He knows my name (Isaiah 43:1-2). It doesn’t matter how many children he has, he knows me individually, set apart from others. We enjoy spending time with each other. He laughs at those who wrong me because he knows their day is coming (Psalm 37:13).
On this Father’s Day, I couldn’t help but continue to sing the lyrics to “Good, Good Father,” because that’s who He is! It would be magnificent to have my biological father in my life, it would be amazing to see the biological father to my daughter in her life, but sometimes the most beautiful surprises come by default. My sadness morphs to joy as I reflect upon the adoption of sorts that my daughter has been afforded. Similarly to what I’ve been granted through my adoption in Christ Jesus. We are fatherless far less, when we acknowledge our Heavenly Father standing with open arms. Let us walk with him not just the third Sunday in June, but each day that we are allowed to live, breathe and have our being. Let us be ever mindful of the fathering we can do to and for others who have less than us. Happy Father’s Day on earth, as it is in heaven.