father's day reflections

I have debated back and forth as to whether or not to write a blog on father's day. Quite honestly it has always been a holiday that makes me uncomfortable simply because I don't know what to do or how to feel about it.

This was the first father's day where I was completely fatherless, knowing that my father died last summer. Prior to this year I was fatherless anyway, it was just one big question mark as to where he really was.

Several years ago while visiting Arizona, we were told that he had died, although no one could confirm it and there was no official record of his death. At that time I mourned because I realized that I would never have a chance to see him again. After about a week of thinking that he was dead, I found out otherwise and went back to my normal life, knowing he was out there somewhere but not exactly sure what to do with that knowledge.

I last saw him when I was 2 years old. I have zero memory of him, although I kind of wish I did. I have pictures, and at least one birthday card that he sent when I was maybe 7 years old. People have asked me over the years if I had any desire to find him or meet him. For most of my life I didn't. I had no hard feelings towards him, I was just kind of afraid and not sure what I would do with him if I did meet him.

When in August of last year, we got a phone call from my someone on the reservation that he had died and this time it was official I had a mixture of emotions. I couldn't exactly mourn someone I didn't know and yet I still mourned. I mourned the loss of a relationship that I never had and would never have. And I mourned his life which was so far less than it could have been.

My knowledge of his life is somewhat sketchy, but what I do know is that it started out less than ideal. The reservations are a hard place to grow up. In my father's case, he spent his early years moving from foster home to foster home. His biological parents were alcoholics who died tragically. Native Americans cannot handle alcohol and my father was no different. When alcoholism took over his life, though at different times he made a profession of faith, he could not overcome the demons that ruled him. And because of that he could not be the husband and father that he might have been.

Here he was as a young man...

So for 26 years I've grown up knowing that I had a father, he was out there somewhere, and that God was my Heavenly Father. I'm still working through what that means...since I never had a relationship with my earthly father it sort of baffles me as to what exactly that means with a Heavenly Father.

But what I do know is that by God's grace, my life defies the statistics of those that grow up without their father present. In that sense my Heavenly Father has been watching over me.

So yesterday was still kind of awkward. I still felt a little sorrow. Unfortunately at this time in our culture, I am no longer in the minority since many children are now growing up in broken homes. And because of that there is a need for Godly male mentors that can be an influence on this next generation.

The message in church last night was an excellent exhortation to see what my Heavenly Father wants to say to me personally. That will be a lifelong quest.