Dads, Bring What You Have

It’s Father’s Day. Mixed emotions fill rooms as people think about the dad they love, the dad they miss, and the dad they wish was different in some way than he is. I know something of all three sentiments.

Growing up, I primarily lived with my mom. My parents separated and divorced when I was fairly young. And even before then, I spent short timeframes with my dad as he was a Navy man and often out to sea. I grew accustomed to his everyday absence, yet looked excitedly to the breaks throughout the year when my brother and I would visit. There are staples in times spent with him that I’ll always relish. Anytime he’d make us roast, rice, carrots, and potatoes (my absolute favorite); fried chicken (a close second); Cornish hens, and spaghetti. His offbeat dancing as he counted one two, one two (there’s more than one lineage I get my non-coordination from lol). That time he thought I liked those Totino’s pizza rolls because I consumed them quickly in an attempt to get rid of them, only to discover a fresh bag in the freezer the next day (I’m triggered just thinking about it). How he made me and my brother pick out and then wrap our Christmas gifts. And one of my favorite memories was thinking our dad had some cool bat mobile that with the push of a button, could go super fast. All we had to do was say the magic words: Boom, Power, Activate!

My mom had remarried later, so I did have my stepdad for more of the everyday connections; yet there was a part of me that still wished and wanted my biological dad to be there. To be closer. I don’t think I processed how I felt about it until post-college, as I was looking at the pieces of my life and heart trying to piece them back together. I went through a period I was mad at both of my parents. Nursing my wounds, thinking that had they done this or that perhaps I wouldn’t be.

I remember taking a young lady to a summit about fatherless daughters thinking this would benefit her, only for me to discover in some way I had been one too. Even for those of us who have our dads, it’s possible not to have them in all the ways we want or in all the ways we need. Those gaps leave space for things to get in, disrupt, and destroy. I was looking at my past and present pinpointing the evidence of that reality in my life. Mixed emotions – sadness, anger, gratefulness because at least… when I compared my story with others.

As I encountered life and challenges, there were things I wish I had received from my parents, but I soon had to realize whatever those things were I was now accountable for obtaining them on my own. I realized that I couldn’t hold my parents hostage to the image of the Huxtables or my vision of what I thought they should have been or done in raising me. As I grew older and had relationships and then became a mom, I became aware that we typically give out of the deficits we experienced growing up. My dad gave out of his. He grew up with a single mom for most of his life, seeing her fight to make ends meet to care for four children by herself until she married again. He didn’t want to replicate that lifestyle for his children, so he focused on financial stability through career advancement. It's one of the reasons my dad joined the Navy. That and the fact there had been no funding for him to go straight to college. He was and still is highly intelligent, which led him to accelerate in rank quickly, achieve first black milestones in the Navy, and eventually return to college to earn his degree with superior marks.

I’m sure I would not have liked it then, but as I grew older, I looked back and longed for my dad to cover me from foolish and naïve ways and boys. I wished I had a guard and someone to guide my focus and feet more closely, particularly in relationships and life navigation. Yet now as an even more mature woman, I can say with fondness that I’m glad my dad is who he is, and I’m glad he’s mine.

Because my dad was a good financial provider, even though we lived waveringly with my mom, it’s one of those qualities that was easy for me to identify in God. I frequently told others and my dad that it was always easy for me to see my Heavenly Father as one who would supply my needs and take care of me because my earthly one did. I appreciate that I can call my dad and ask him hundreds of questions and for his guidance about financial investments and decision-making. My dad taught me the importance of an integral name. His example throughout his career made me swear off the military, so I never tarnished his good one. And he taught me foundations in building and maintaining credit, which has opened doors even if I didn’t have but two pennies to rub together. There may not have been a lot of money in my bank account, but my credit reputation could get me access to some stuff.

Just like me, my dad needed grace. I needed to see all that he did do, offer, and instill in me, rather than focus on what I wished he had. Dads run for a lot of reasons. Sometimes I think because they feel inadequate. Because they don’t, can’t, and aren’t. But I want to encourage dads – bonus dads, stepdads, adoptive dads, wherever you fit dads – to bring whatever you have. Whatever you have, Jesus can use. Just think, He didn’t have to, but God chose you to be your children’s father. And He wants and needs you to be their dad. There’s still time and opportunity to heal those relationships and grow them. There’s still time for you to heal and grow too. There’s still time to bring what you have.

Dads, check out these two messages to encourage you in what your presence has the impact to do in the hands of Jesus:

• The Legacy of a Father

• A Father’s Legacy: Standing in the Gap

P.S. This message (The Sister Circle Podcast: Kia Stephens on Overcoming Father Wounds) popped up on my feed maybe a week ago, but I didn’t listen to it until after I had written this blog. I was questioning whether I should share what I had written as I had written it. I think her story solidified that I should. I recommend it to kids big and small who have wrestled with father wounds. Kia Stephens stated, “A father wound is synonymous with father absenteeism and so a father could be absent in myriad of ways – by way of divorce, abandonment, abuse, incarceration, drug addiction, alcoholism as it was in my case, premature death, an affair, or a physically present father but an emotionally absent one. So, any one of those circumstances, not limited to those circumstances has the potential to leave a woman [boy, girl, or man] wounded] in her soul and it can linger for a lifetime – the ramifications of that.”

When Josh and I were at the library this past weekend, I came across a few children’s books related to absentee dads. Missing Daddy by Mariame Kaba is about a boy whose dad is incarcerated. Here and There by Tamara Ellis Smith is about a boy living between two homes and his journey to find joy in visiting his dad. I had previously bought Divorced: 7 Keys to making it through your parents’ divorce which was written by a young boy and his mom (C.J. & Lakisha L. Simmons); it helps kids process and navigate living between homes while providing parents insights into some of the frustrations and losses they feel. If father absenteeism is a part of your child’s story, children’s books can be a great way to help them grapple with their struggles and griefs of living with and apart from dads in multiple ways.