Fathers

Several years ago, I heard about this experiment by a man named Frank Warren who wanted to see what secrets people would share if the identity of the person was not given away. He created an organization called, "Postsecret" where people could send their secrets in to him on a postcard and he would publish them. I frequented the site and would find the books whenever I went to the library or a local book store. I remember sitting on the floor of a bookstore for nearly an hour just flipping through the books. Some were quite eye-opening (to say the least), some really blew me away....and still others, hit home more than I'd like to admit.

The other night, I went to the site and found that the theme of this week's post was on Fathers. I would assume that with Father's Day right around the corner, Frank Warren found it to be an appropriate time to post these secrets.

Several of the cards were amazing....thanking his/her Father for being there...and for creating a great childhood for the writer. Sadly, though, a majority of the cards were of deep, intense heartache and wounds that were created by the father....

questions....

longings....

sadness....

disgust....

anger....

My heart began to feel the pain of the writer....and I instantly began to feel that intense, gut-wrenching pain that can overtake you when you visit a place of deep agony.



My parents were never married. Two teenagers...in love....who quickly broke up when I was too young to remember anything else. My Dad was just a teenager. He was a broken kid who had been used and abused his whole life (trust me....this is NO exaggeration) and he already had two kids before me. Trying to navigate through his life of crime and addiction was a hard enough job without trying to take care of children and the women who mothered them.

Growing up, though, I never took any of that into consideration. I wanted a DAD. I wanted a DADDY. I wanted a FATHER. I wanted a MAN who would stand up for me, kiss my boo-boos, send me to bed without dinner if necessary, and whose eyes would dance when they met mine. I sit here with a lump in my throat, as do so many others around me...and around the world. I realize that my pain is not isolated to only me and that having little pity parties that center around me are ridiculous and uncalled for because so many little girls.....little boys....big girls...and big boys....are longing for a man to step up to the plate.


Sadly, the absence of father's in our lives have created great hardships....

many insecurities....

many pains that have yet to heal because the void is so big...

so vast...

and so........ empty.


I look at the best Father I've ever seen; my husband. The love in his eyes when he looks at our dear son....and the way his eyes dance when he looks into those of our baby girl and I look on with deep admiration and joy. I am reminded now that God looks up on His children this way yet it's hard to see sometimes because I'm still hiding in that place of deep longing....desiring something deeper....and hoping that one day, my Dad will ....still ....come ....around.

For some, Dad is gone. He hit the road and never looked back. For others, he is so wrapped up in his iPad or his cell phone or his laptop or his notes or his books or his meetings or his travels or God or his dreams or his failures or his toys that he fails to see the wide-eyed little girl or boy just begging for his attention. For some, Daddy died. He wanted to stay, but something tragic happened and he is now gone. For others, Dad never knew how to be a dad because he was too busy licking his own wounds from childhood, still trying to figure out who he was in the midst of the muddle. Or maybe Dad wants to be involved but Mom is keeping him away....out of revenge.....and his own heart breaks.


Being a Father this day and age is a tough responsibility but it is oh so needed. Bear hugs and wrestling and kisses on the cheek or head or lips....snuggles....words of praise and affirmation...singing and dancing and and structure and tucking them into bed and making meals for them and enjoying the things they enjoy whether it bores the crap out of you or not and maybe even acting like a complete idiot because the world is beautiful because your kids are.in.it.

and if your children are older, a phone call, a hand-written note, an email, a huge hug or kiss on the head or cheek, words of affirmation and praise, support, a shoulder to cry on, arms to hold them, and just plain 'ole showing up.....remembering birthdays and anniversaries and the things your children enjoy and enjoying life with them because the world is beautiful because your kids (no matter how big) are.in.it.

We just need dads to show up.

There are wounded children, teenagers, and adults all around us who need(ed) a Daddy to just try to be a Daddy. They don't always nail it (whatever it is) but the willingness to put themselves out there and try to be a Daddy is the most powerful thing a man can do.

"My father didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it." -- Clarence Budington Kelland