Father’s Day Thoughts

My dad: WW2 vet, married to one woman, breadwinner, shrewd thinker, uncomfortable about faith, better with small kids than pre-teens or teens, giver, uncomfortable in crowds, adventurous.

My dad was a flawed man. He battled insecurity, anger, and alcoholism. Yet as I thought about him this Father’s Day, I smiled and thanked God for him. He exemplified the American dream. He came from a dustbowl, Depression-era home in Oklahoma and survived a broken home at age 10. He knew the stigma of living in a single-mother home when very few other kids did. He started smoking about the same time his dad left his mom, and gave up smoking in his late fifties in support of my mom who had to quit smoking or die.

And despite his broken beginnings, he served in the South Pacific as a pilot in WW2 between stints at Oklahoma University, and when he finally finished college, he went to night school while working days at his dream job—an engineer at a corporate firm—to earn his Masters. He provided for his wife and two kids, and later his third—me—and made sure we had everything we needed.

Although he battled his demons, he sought to live in integrity. As outraged as he could make me (and he did seem to look for buttons to push), I am thankful for the man God gave me as my dad. Just recognizing that he was not only flawed but also longed to do what was right most of the time helps me to honor him in my memory despite those flaws.

He passed away in 2008, and I am thankful for his positive input in my life and for the lessons I’ve learned from the more unpleasant times. I’ve chosen to forgive him completely and to love him as the gift of God that he was able to be. Although he shunned my offer of leading him to Christ, he heard the truth. I can rest in the love of my Heavenly Father and trust that God has it all covered. And perhaps…maybe…my dad heard the message one last time, and recognizing his eternal need, quietly opened his heart to Christ.

I am writing this for all of you who did not have a “perfect” dad. I know that wounds can still fester on the inside of many—even Christians—due to the thoughtlessness, negligence, and sometimes abuse of their fathers. If this describes you, I challenge you to find the positive—whatever it may be—in the relationship you’ve had with your dad, and thank God for it. I found that great healing started in my life and love for my dad  increased as I thanked God for the good that he was able to instill in my life.

You don’t need to pretend that everything was—or is—hunky-dory to look for the good. But as you seek out those good things (I bet you’ll find something) and thank God for what you discover, a washing and a healing in your heart will begin, and a new compassion—the love of Christ—will rise up in your heart for that one flawed man called Dad.

God bless you,

Dorothy