Today marks 7 years since my father passed away.
I used to think about him everyday. The further away time takes me from his death, the less I think about it. But when I do remember, the memories tend to be a bit more intense. What hasn’t changed is the degree to which I miss him. I long to call and fill him in on my life. Like every other grown man, I still want to hear my dad say he’s proud of me.
I wonder the kind of man I would’ve become had he been alive the last seven years. I’ve had a thousand moments where I wanted to sit with him and talk.
As a teenager, I never valued his true leadership. As a leader myself now, I wish I could value his friendship.
I hear from dozens of grown men who are frustrated by their fathers. I understand. I hope they will come to see the treasure in their presence.
My dad and I didn’t have a perfect relationship. He didn’t do everything right–giant mistakes blemish his fatherly record. But I’ve gained a new perspective.
I’m a father myself now. I’ve come to understand I, too, am full of mistakes. My own fatherly record is just as screwed up as many others. It’s hard to sit on this side of life and judge my father for mistakes that, quite ironically, seem to be generational.
But I’m grateful for a Heavenly Father who understands my hurts and needs. He covers mistakes. His grace is sufficient. He’s all I need, and I get to hear Him say, “I’m proud of you.”