Happy Father’s Day

Hello again, dear ones, I hope this post finds you all doing well! It’s yet again Father’s Day, and I’d like to take a moment to touch on something that I consider every year on this day. What makes a man a father? You know, if you’ve followed my blog for any amount of time, that I didn’t grow up with one. In fact, I barely remember him, since I was only six when my parents divorced and he didn’t seek custody. I carried his last name though, all the way up until I got married. If I wasn’t nearly an identical twin of my mom I might have wondered about whether or not I had been adopted. My sister had my mothers maiden name, so I was the only one in the house with a different last name. But the day that my name finally changed, a different man walked me down the isle and gave me away.

What made that other man more of a father figure to me than my actual, biological, father? My uncle is the only father figure I had growing up, after spending two years living with him and my aunt, and countless summers with them after that. He provided a home, food, clothes, love, and discipline, when no one else would. Of the five children he provided for during those years, only one was his biological son. Two of the girls were his step daughters from my aunts previous marriage, and the other two girls were my sister and I. It’s a tall order to provide for that many people, to go to work each day, to put them all in sports and then show up to every game, to couch when needed, to practice with them, to tuck them in when they’re sick. Never once while living there did I see a difference in how my aunt and uncle treated the five of us, if we weren’t all their children by birth it was hard to tell.

I remember asking my aunt if I could call her mom and call my uncle dad. She told me no, and explained that I had parents that loved me. I didn’t understand at the time, but it’s something unique and very special that two people who weren’t my parents had chosen to act in their place. It would have been easy to skim on the parenting part, to let some attitude issues slide, to ignore the glaringly obvious need I had for discipline. After all, I was eventually going to be someone else’s problem. But my uncle never ignored it, never let it slide, was never content to push off the right thing to someone else. Without his guidance, I doubt I would have been able to avoid drugs during my teen years. He taught me self control, and though I rarely demonstrated it in any other area, it was due to his structure that I was able to pass classes. I followed the template he and my aunt set for me, using what little self discipline I gleaned from his painstaking effort to get through the toughest moments.

What makes a man a father? I don’t guess, as a woman, that I’ll ever understand it. One man is my father by birth, I can just barely remember him singing Brown Eye’d Girl to me and playing the guitar to help me sleep. Yet, he wasn’t a father to me growing up. Another man, not by blood or by marriage, chose to step up into the roll of father, eventually walking me down the aisle and giving me away. There’s a disconnect here that I’m unable to reconcile. But I’m very thankful for God’s providence in allowing me to have a fixed point in my childhood, just those two years, and a man that helped teach me how to ride a bike, catch a ball, and tie a shoe. We have an issue in the Church, I hear it over and over again when I interview believers on the podcast, there’s no discipleship happening. We need men willing to stand up in the place where fathers are missing, and teach young boys how to follow after Christ. We need women willing to stand up in the place where mother’s are missing and do the same. I’m thankful to all the men and women who are already doing that. I’m thankful for the fathers that are teaching their children Scriptures. I hope you are all having a blessed Father’s Day. As always, beloved brethren, be good Berean’s and study to show yourselves approved.

Hymns of the Past – Behold the Sure Foundation-Stone

Today is Fathers Day here in America, a day that was full of sadness growing up without a dad. I want to tell you about three Fathers before you get to the beautiful hymn below. The first one is my Uncle, who married my aunt when he was just out of high school. She was much older then him and already had two little girls. They had a boy together and then took my sister and myself in. Five kids, only one his natural born. My aunt was a stay at home wife, which meant he worked very hard at his construction job to care for all of us. We stayed with him for two years, and never once in all my life have I heard him mention how that must have put him out. He walked me down the isle when Justin and I were married. That, dear brethren, is a father.

The second man I want to tell you about, shortly as he actually reads my blog and will be very embarrassed by this, is Justin. My husband is an amazing father. With multiple fractures in his back, a herniated disk, and sciatic nerve pain, he takes Kk out to the ballpark everyday he’s off to practice softball. He hasn’t missed a day of work in years. He takes her on daddy-daughter dates. He helps her with lessons, gymnastics, and even picking out clothes. He’s so tough that until she was 6 Kk was convinced he was Superman. That, my friends, is a good father!

Lastly, I want to tell you of a completely different type of Father. This Father is so great, so holy, so righteous, that comparing Him to earthly fathers is folly. He’s not at all like the dads we had growing up. He’s perfect, perfect in love and perfect in justice. I am, of course, talking about our Heavenly Father, who sent His only begotten Son that whosoever believes in Him will not die but have ever lasting life. His Son, Jesus Christ, condescended to become man, entering His creation and living a sinless life. When the time came He laid down His life, let none of you confuse this point, neither the religious leaders nor those Roman soldiers took His life. He gave it willingly, in complete obedience to God the Father. On that cross He paid a debt He didn’t owe, because we owe a debt we can’t pay. He died, was buried in a tomb, then rose again the third day! Praise God! This hope we have, that Christ took the punishment we deserve so that we can be forgiven and free. Repent of your sins, dear ones, if you have not yet, and put your faith in Christ alone. There is no other name under heaven that can save.

For all those fathers out there, Happy Fathers Day! For all those who had no father, or one that made you wish you had no father, flee to the cross. There is only one Father that is perfect, the rest are wretched sinners just like you and I. With that, let us heap praise, worship, glory, and honor to the only One who deserves it! And as always, beloved brethren, be good Berean’s and study to show yourselves approved.

Behold the sure Foundation-stone

Which God in Zion lays

To build our heav’nly hopes upon

And His eternal praise.

Chosen of God, to sinners dear,

And saints adore the name;

They trust their whole salvation here,

Nor shall they suffer shame.

The foolish builders, scribe and priest,

Reject it with disdain;

Yet on this Rock the Church shall rest,

And envy rage in vain.

What though the gates of hell withstood,

Yet must this building rise.

’Tis Thy own work, Almighty God,

And wondrous in our eyes.

Isaac Watts