Lately, fathers have become the subject of jokes.
When Mother’s Day arrives,
the world celebrates mothers.
When Father’s Day comes,
people say,
“Happy Father’s Day to responsible fathers.”
And I wonder.
Have we failed the family so much
that fatherhood now requires a disclaimer?
Have good fathers become so rare
that we celebrate them as exceptions?
Well, I do not know.
But this narrative must change
For young ones to once again have men worth emulating.
How can we have understanding of the words,
“Our Father in heaven,”
if we never see fatherhood on earth?
The older I grow,
the more I realize that fathers often bleed in places no one sees.
They swallow fears.
They carry burdens quietly
so their children can sleep peacefully.
Aside the many gifts God gave me,
He gave me a father.
And as for my father,
his strength has been unquestionable.
Not because he could lift heavy things,
but because he carried heavy responsibilities.
Before I knew where food came from,
he was already working for it.
Before I understood what bills were,
he had already paid them.
Before I knew what worry looked like,
he had hidden it behind a smile.
He gave me provision.
But more importantly,
he gave me his presence.
He was there.
At school events.
At moments that seemed ordinary then
but precious now.
I rarely remember the amount of time spent.
But I remember who showed up.
I remember his corrections,
even the ones I disliked.
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I remember the lectures that felt too long.
The warnings I ignored.
The principles I resisted.
There were times I thought he was being difficult.
Now I realize he was being a father.
A father sees dangers a child cannot see.
A father worries about roads his children have not yet travelled.
A father stands at doors
and takes blows his family never notices.
Some of the safest moments of my life
were purchased by battles I never knew he fought.
That is the mystery of fatherhood.
The best fathers make sacrifice look normal.
They carry weight so consistently
that everyone forgets it is heavy.
To my father,
Thank you for every prayer you prayed when I was asleep.
For every sacrifice you never announced.
For every burden you carried without applause.
For every lesson you repeated until it became part of me.
For being present. For staying.
For showing me, however imperfectly,
what it means to be a man.
And when I have the privilege of becoming a father someday,
I pray I will do for my children
what you did for me.
And perhaps a little more.
Not because you were lacking,
but because every good father inspires his children
to continue the story he started
Happy Fathers Day to all fathers… both biological and spiritual
