Looking Back at Father’s Day

It started off with rain. The air was thick with moisture, and my joints screamed in protest. But as I sat in church and listened to the message about my heavenly Father, the noise in my body seemed to quiet and give way to the outpouring of His love.

I don’t know how it happened. One day, I was despising my father for not being there, and the next I’m sorry for all the time lost communicating with him.

I spent many years folding under the pressure of my parents divorce. I wasn’t the typical kid of divorced parents in that I never blamed myself for their parting of the ways. I never thought that if I was just good, then they would get back together. Rather, I was indifferent to it. I didn’t care one way or the other. I was invisible. At least I thought I was.

My mother was angry and hurt. So, because she spent the most time with us, I thought what she thought. I had no idea why. I was supposed to be angry and hurt because she was. I took on a persona that wasn’t me. She came to my games, she cheered me on from the sidelines and even drove me to meets when I missed the bus. She had dinner ready for me when I got home from a late practice, she encouraged me in my homework, she woke me up in time for breakfast before school. She did the laundry. She kept the house. She did all the things a mother is supposed to do and more. But she was angry and hurt at my father, and I thought I was supposed to be too. So I shut him out. Even if he had tried to contact me in those years he wouldn’t have been able to because I shut him out.

Listening to the message yesterday reminded me that my father, just like me, is human. He makes mistakes. He is NOT perfect. I expected so much more of him because I thought that he had let us down. But he didn’t. He did the best he could with the knowledge, training and background that he had. I’m not a fan of why my parents marriage broke up. But it’s not my issue. I’m the product of that marriage. Part of each of them is what makes me who I am. I look like both of them. I talk like both of them. I write like both of them. But I am not them. And they are not me. They too, are only just human, prone to mistakes and failures. Just like me.

My Heavenly Father is perfect. In Him I am made perfect. I can forgive my parents because my Father in Heaven has forgiven me. He is the one I need to look to. He is the one who will never fail me, who will never disappoint me, who will love me unconditionally. I am lucky to have had the father that I have. He is smart, witty, fun and loving. I’m sorry that I didn’t see that earlier in my life.

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