“And you, fathers, do not provoke your children to wrath, but bring them up in the training and admonition of the Lord.” Ephesians 6:4
Sorry to be such a Daddy-downer on this Father’s Day, but for me, it has become perhaps the melancholiest day of the year. I feel like such a failure. Why? I struggle to answer that question.
I know I cannot lay this feeling on my kids. Their lives have become unique journeys of meeting life’s challenges and opportunities in their own ways. I am proud of them for what they have accomplished and are making of themselves. I think I’m beyond judging them against what I may have projected for their lives.
My kids love me, and I love them. I gather that most people who know me would say I’m a great dad. Yet I can’t help but feel like I have failed as a father in some significant ways.
Perhaps the feeling on this day is something like the melancholy felt at Christmas, when, for many people, the experience never quite lives up to their expectations. But do I really think that what I have done as a father should result in my children showering me with attention and honors, along with a ticker tape parade? I know I don’t need that and certainly don’t deserve it.
Still, I can’t shake this feeling that I have failed. Was I present as much as I could have been with each of them? Was I fully the imitation of Jesus that would draw them closer into a relationship with the Living God? Did I really nurture them in the “training and counsel of the Lord?“ or did I spend too much time provoking/exasperating them in ways that did not foster a closer relationship?
I grow anxious about the ripple effects of my sin and failure. Have any of my selfish behaviors negatively impacted my children? Exodus 34:7 states that God visits “the iniquity of the fathers on the children and the children’s children, to the third and the fourth generation”. I know that this is not an arbitrary curse, but the natural, painful consequence of worldly behavior I may have modeled to my family. What is there of that?
I can certainly rationalize that the things of this world naturally pull us apart. Or, is it just a matter of the inevitable separation of children from parents and my desire to claw them back under my wings? Do they want to hang out with us and spend more time with us? Have we fostered that desire? Perhaps I didn’t foster enough shared interests? I feel that I have failed, but how have I failed them? One thing I know is that, somehow, through all the years with whatever else I’ve focused on, I’ve cheated myself of a deeper relationship with my kids to some degree.
As far as God is concerned, His grace overcomes my guilt. Ultimately, God’s grace is sufficient, and He promises to work all things for the good of those who love Him (Romans 8:28). Perhaps what I am feeling is giving me a taste of the sadness and jealousy God feels when I choose to invest my time and interest in so many things other than in seeking Him.
Time is running out in this realm, but there is still time, so I’ll commit to making the effort where I can to foster more in my relationships with those I love. I pray on this Father’s Day that God would create in me and in my kids a desire for greater connection with each other to be a model of the greater connection He desires with us.
Tucked In and Lamps Burning 