In case you didn't notice, I didn't write a Father's Day post like I did last year. It's not because I think Luke has slacked in this past year and doesn't deserve a whole post devoted to the phenomenal job he does as a father. Actually, it's quite the opposite. I could write post after post, actually daily, on the ways that I see my husband discipling, loving and nurturing our children. He is amazing in this role on so many levels.
But, this year I was overcome with emotion for the ways that I see our children adore their earthly father. And, if I'm honest, I was a little jealous. You see, I have the blessing of having grown up with two Dads. My real Dad and I were incredibly close when I was a child. To say I was a Daddy's girl was putting it mildly. It was not uncommon for me to frequent the deer woods, the hunting club (that would be a deer hunting club for you city slickers), the local fishing pond and early morning fishing trips with my Dad. He was the man I adored and the person I wanted to spend all my time with. I loathed dresses and bows and fru-fru girl stuff (aside from the Barbie and the Rockers bus I got for Christmas one year. THAT girly-fied thing was so cool.). Anyway, you get the idea. Where my Dad went so did I. Even to his hot, sweaty job as a brick layer. I would pile up scrap bricks and steal freshly mixed concrete and lay my own brick walls while my Dad labored in the sun, working hard to provide for our needs. He is a good man and in my childhood he was an amazing Dad. As I grew into adolescence our relationship became strained and now it is virtually non-exsistent.
Then, when I turned eleven I was blessed to gain another Dad. My step-dad married my mom and immediately he and I went toe to toe. We battled for my Mom's attention and I can say that I honestly didn't take it easy on him. But, he took it all in stride and was committed to loving me despite my pre-teen hormones. And, he still does love me, just like I am his natural born daughter. He loves my children beyond a level that I knew he was able. They squeal and scream and run top-speed to the awaiting arms of their PawPaw each and every time he enters their presence. And my "Dad" (because that's what I call him) fills that grandpa role with perfection. In fact, God not-so-subtly revealed to me that my step-Dad is, in fact, the person who showed me exactly what it looks like to love a child that is not your flesh and blood. He showed me that love knows no blood line. He created the ability within me to love Aaron and Baby Girl just like I do. If for only that, I will be eternally grateful.
However, I cannot claim that I have had a sustained relationship with any "Dad" that compares to what my children get with Luke. I have never been discipled by a man in the ways of the Lord. I have never walked in on my Dad reading his Bible or praying over me. I have never had a Dad sit down and explain to me why the choices I made were unbiblical and against God's desires for my life. Oh, how my life might look differently if only I had.
So it is with that thinking that I am jealous that my kids have Luke. You see, I'm still figuring this whole mother/wife/submissive partner role out. I don't have all the answers and neither Luke nor I grew up in a home modeling Godly faithfulness. Yes, we were raised by believers, but neither of us had a mother and father who worked together to exemplify the way to make Godly decisions. My kids see that each and every day in the face of their dad. They see a man who works tirelessly to earn for us. They see a man who loves their mother without condition, even when she's undeserving of that love. They see a man who's heart is so desperate to seek God's desires for his family that he remains humbly submitted to the throne of God. I praise God for this man who fathers our children and I pray that as our children learn from his faithfulness, so will I.
But, this year I was overcome with emotion for the ways that I see our children adore their earthly father. And, if I'm honest, I was a little jealous. You see, I have the blessing of having grown up with two Dads. My real Dad and I were incredibly close when I was a child. To say I was a Daddy's girl was putting it mildly. It was not uncommon for me to frequent the deer woods, the hunting club (that would be a deer hunting club for you city slickers), the local fishing pond and early morning fishing trips with my Dad. He was the man I adored and the person I wanted to spend all my time with. I loathed dresses and bows and fru-fru girl stuff (aside from the Barbie and the Rockers bus I got for Christmas one year. THAT girly-fied thing was so cool.). Anyway, you get the idea. Where my Dad went so did I. Even to his hot, sweaty job as a brick layer. I would pile up scrap bricks and steal freshly mixed concrete and lay my own brick walls while my Dad labored in the sun, working hard to provide for our needs. He is a good man and in my childhood he was an amazing Dad. As I grew into adolescence our relationship became strained and now it is virtually non-exsistent.
Then, when I turned eleven I was blessed to gain another Dad. My step-dad married my mom and immediately he and I went toe to toe. We battled for my Mom's attention and I can say that I honestly didn't take it easy on him. But, he took it all in stride and was committed to loving me despite my pre-teen hormones. And, he still does love me, just like I am his natural born daughter. He loves my children beyond a level that I knew he was able. They squeal and scream and run top-speed to the awaiting arms of their PawPaw each and every time he enters their presence. And my "Dad" (because that's what I call him) fills that grandpa role with perfection. In fact, God not-so-subtly revealed to me that my step-Dad is, in fact, the person who showed me exactly what it looks like to love a child that is not your flesh and blood. He showed me that love knows no blood line. He created the ability within me to love Aaron and Baby Girl just like I do. If for only that, I will be eternally grateful.
However, I cannot claim that I have had a sustained relationship with any "Dad" that compares to what my children get with Luke. I have never been discipled by a man in the ways of the Lord. I have never walked in on my Dad reading his Bible or praying over me. I have never had a Dad sit down and explain to me why the choices I made were unbiblical and against God's desires for my life. Oh, how my life might look differently if only I had.
So it is with that thinking that I am jealous that my kids have Luke. You see, I'm still figuring this whole mother/wife/submissive partner role out. I don't have all the answers and neither Luke nor I grew up in a home modeling Godly faithfulness. Yes, we were raised by believers, but neither of us had a mother and father who worked together to exemplify the way to make Godly decisions. My kids see that each and every day in the face of their dad. They see a man who works tirelessly to earn for us. They see a man who loves their mother without condition, even when she's undeserving of that love. They see a man who's heart is so desperate to seek God's desires for his family that he remains humbly submitted to the throne of God. I praise God for this man who fathers our children and I pray that as our children learn from his faithfulness, so will I.
