Tag Archives: Father’s Day


It’s Father’s Day.

I forgot how much you don’t like Father’s Day until I was sitting in church this morning and something reminded me of you. Something reminded me of the Father’s Day years ago when I was sitting in a different church and you texted me that it was Father’s day, I typed, “Yes?” and you replied, “I hate this day.”

This morning, I felt your pain again. I’m sorry that you hate this day. You deserved a dad who acted like your dad. You deserved a dad who showed his love to you, who taught you how to be wise, who shared your humor, and who was there for you. And your mom deserved to have help; she deserved to not have to be both parents. Though I will say I always loved how you celebrated her both on Mother’s Day and Father’s Day.

Today – and this is kind of a long shot – but today, I bet you felt those same feelings but they were matched with feelings of fear. Today, I bet you felt inadequate. Today, I bet you hoped desperately that you will be the father to your son that you needed.

Don’t worry too much about it, okay? Because you will be. You’ll do whatever you can for him. You’ll love him and teach him and, goodness knows, you’ll get him rolling his eyes very early with all of your dad jokes. You are loving and caring and gentle. You will show him what it’s like to be human in this crazy world and you will absolutely fail sometimes. But that’s okay. Because you can teach him that failing is okay, humbleness is necessary, and you move forward and learn from your mistakes.

I am sorry if you’ve felt pain and fear today. I hope you’ve also experienced joy and love. You deserve joy and love.

Happy first Father’s Day to you my brother.



“I hate this day.”

I opened my phone again. Read the message. Typed a short response.

I needed to stop. The service was going to start soon. Didn’t want to be a bad example texting in church. My thoughts flashed to all the jr. and sr. high schoolers sitting behind me. But he was my best friend. And I wanted to keep texting him.

He abruptly changed the subject.

“It’s Father’s Day.” He said.
“Yes?” Was he just stating facts?
His response made my heart sink.

“I hate this day.”

My mind thought of his biological father- a man who only in the past few years had come into his life. And by ‘come into his life,’ I mean ‘became friends with him on Facebook and shoots him a text on his birthday.’

I thought of his step father. I don’t really have much to say about him. He wasn’t a good guy.

I thought of his current step father. Barely. As of a couple of months. Too late now. He’s alread grown.

So, yeah, I get why he hates this day. I get why he can’t stand it when he scrolls through the Facebook posts of all the dads and all of their children saying how great they are. I get why he feels like a part of him is missing. I get how empty he must feel today.

And no, I don’t really, truly get it. Because I have a dad. And, yes, he’s difficult. Yes, he’s far from perfect. And yes, a lot of other things that I’ll not put on here for various reasons. But I have a dad. I always have.

It just breaks my heart. My best friend is only one small cry in the midst of the screaming children being raised without their fathers. CHILDREN NEED THEIR DADS. I could go on and on and on with statistics about how destructive it is for a child to have an absent father. But, here’s the thing…

Until we, as a society, realize that marriage is not a game… Until we realize divorce shouldn’t just come because it can…. Until we realize relationships take work, and a lot at that….

Until women let their men be men… Until men decide to step up and fully accept responsibility for their families…. Until parents really try to raise good children…. Until we begin to prioritize people over things… Until we learn to love at its fullest…. Until we realize love is not a word, it’s an action….

Then we’re going to have broken people. Broken families. Broken children.

So many broken children who, today, had no one to say “happy Father’s Day” to….

If there’s someone near you who doesn’t have a dad who’s really and truly present in their lives (and the chances are that you do), pour your love and encouragement out on them today.

My word…. How many broken people are out there? How many people have said those words?

“I hate this day.”

Well, my friend… I think I do too.