Father’s Day has changed for me over the years. As a child, I remember looking up to my dad with awe and recognizing that he was the one person in the world I most wanted to be proud of me. The day itself always seemed to sneak up on us. Usually, Mom would say something like, “Tomorrow is Father’s Day,” or “This Sunday is Father’s Day,” and I’d panic a little: “Oh no – what do I do?” Thankfully, my mom was great at suggesting something a six-year-old (or whatever age I was) could give (usually with her help, of course) to the man who might as well have been Superman, the Hulk, and my best buddy all rolled into one.
By age 11, I started working, and I’m not exaggerating. I was mowing about four different yards around town, not including my own, which brought in a steady income each week for the summer. Shortly before this was when the family started attending church regularly. So, two things happened at this point regarding money. I started tithing, giving 10% of all I made to the church, and I no longer had to depend on my mother or father for gifts on their respective days of honor.
Fast forward to my twenties when I became a father and the meaning of that day in June changed again. It became something that even now is difficult to put into words. How strange a feeling to be responsible for life. Still, as any young father knows, those early Father’s Days are more “honorary” than real. Those of us who are lucky have spouses who buy a card or present us with some special gift or thoughtful notion in honor of the children we share together. Still, the day itself is a gift–to look into the eyes of another, to feel them leap into your arms or to play with them on the floor. I remember the day becoming more of “my day” than my father’s for a while. Our relationship had strained over the years as sometimes happens. Mine came, as most do, with some unique circumstances. It’s a story for another time. But I will tell you, at one point, my dad told me, “Son, you’re a thousand times more of a father to your three than I ever was to just you.” Those words were powerful, healing, and came from the heart of a man who had finally been spending some significant time with Jesus. He became open to reflection in ways he hadn’t previously.
This led to the next few years of Father’s Day being my favorite. I got the best of both. I could honor my dad and enjoy my boys. The picture of all of us from the final Father’s Day I spent with him is still on the lockscreen on my phone. It stares at me all the time, frozen in time, reminding me of the gift of not just fathers and sons, but of Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit. That gift can change hearts, mend relationships, and bring the best out of life even during some of the worst times.
The following year in 2021, just four years ago, I said goodbye to my dad for the last time on Father’s Day at two a.m. when I had the responsibility for my family to make the decision to turn off his heart pump and pacemaker. That moment came less than six weeks after Kara and I had gotten married.
It reminds me of many of the passages of Ecclesiastes where we read about the wisdom of appreciating God’s good gift of today, the joy of good food and drink and family, and all that we have been given, whatever that might be. Father’s Day is a powerful reminder of the seasons of life, each representing the ebbs and flow of good and bad, of growing up and growing old, of being a son or daughter, and subsequently for many becoming a father or mother ourselves. For everything, we read, there is a season.
May this Father’s Day represent for you a season of knowing and appreciating the gifts God has given you, be they the gifts of a father or a son or daughter or the many other gifts that we often recognize with summer and family get-togethers and loving relationships. These sorts of days change for all of us through the years. But our God promises the newness of life, forgiveness and reconciliation, and that He is always with us. Those remain the same.
Happy Father’s Day, Pastor Chris
