
Father’s Day is often painted with images of joy—backyard barbecues, laughter-filled phone calls, homemade cards, and cherished traditions like watching the U.S. Open with Dad. It’s a day set aside to honor the fathers, grandfathers, mentors, and spiritual leaders who have shaped our lives with strength, sacrifice, and unwavering love.
But for some of us, it’s also a day of wrestling. A day of remembering. A day of wishing things were different.
I was blessed with an amazing father. He was strong, steady, and full of quiet wisdom. He served our country with honor, led our family with humility, and lived with integrity. I never doubted his love—but I often found myself longing to make him proud. That desire never left me. And now that he’s no longer on this side of eternity, that longing feels even deeper.
There are moments I find myself thinking, If only he could see what I’m working toward. If only he could see me striving to become a published author—sharing messages of hope, healing, and faith. If only he knew I’m actively pursuing the call to serve in uniform, just like he did—only, as a military chaplain. If only he could hear the words I now get to preach, or see the legacy of faith I’m trying to build for my own children.
But even though those if only moments tug at my heart, I find peace in this truth: he was proud of the father and husband I became. And that knowledge brings me joy—deep, grounding joy—even as I miss him more than words can say.
Maybe you’re feeling that tension too. Maybe your father was absent. Maybe he was present, but emotionally distant. Maybe your heart aches because your dad left behind wounds that still haven’t healed—or maybe, like me, you simply miss a wonderful dad whose absence leaves a gaping hole.
Whatever your experience, hear this clearly: You are not alone. And you are deeply seen.
In the complexity of this day, we are invited to lift our eyes to a greater reality: God redefines fatherhood.
He is not a distant deity or a reflection of human failure. He is the Father to the fatherless (Psalm 68:5). He draws near when others walk away. He stays when others abandon. Scripture reminds us that He is “compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in love” (Psalm 103:8). Where our earthly fathers fall short, God steps in with perfect love, unwavering presence, and healing grace.
When Jesus taught us to pray, “Our Father,” He wasn’t pointing to a broken model. He was inviting us into a relationship of intimacy and security—a divine embrace that never lets go.
So, if today is hard, let it also be holy. Let it be a sacred space to mourn what was lost, celebrate what was good, and receive what still remains—the love of a Heavenly Father who will never leave you.
And if you were blessed with a godly father like I was, let today be a celebration of gratitude. These men, though imperfect, gave us a glimpse of our Father in heaven—through their presence, protection, provision, and prayers. Their legacy echoes beyond the grave, and their fingerprints of faith live on in us.
To every father reading this— biological, adoptive, spiritual—you carry a high and holy calling. Your words matter. Your presence matters. You matter. As Ephesians 6:4 says, you’re called to raise your children in the discipline and instruction of the Lord—not with perfection, but with purpose and grace.
Here are four ways to reflect the heart of God as a father:
- Model God’s Character
Be patient when it’s hard, merciful when it’s undeserved, and love unconditionally. Children see God first through you. - Cultivate a Prayerful Home
Let your kids hear your prayers and feel your faith. Teach them where strength truly comes from. - Center Your Life on Scripture
Let the Word shape your decisions, values, and the way you love your family. - Be Present
More than provision or protection, your presence tells them they are valuable. It speaks louder than words.
To those navigating grief today: God sees your tears. He understands your pain. He meets you in the silence and fills the space with His love. He is near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18). You haven’t been forgotten—you are held. Fully. Tenderly. Eternally.
And even in the missing, the memories, and the ache… He is enough.
Prayer:
Heavenly Father,
Today, we come to You with open hearts—some full of joy, others heavy with sorrow. Thank You for being the perfect Father—steadfast, faithful, and kind. For those of us who had incredible dads, thank You for their legacy of love and faith. For those grieving loss, longing, or pain, wrap them in Your comfort. Let Your presence fill the empty spaces.
Help us, God, to see You not through the lens of human failure, but through the eyes of faith. Redefine fatherhood for every heart. Heal what’s broken. Restore what’s been lost. Strengthen the fathers reading this to lead with grace and humility. Remind them that they are shaping eternity with every act of love.
And for those of us still longing for one more hug, one more conversation, one more chance to say, “I’m becoming everything you believed I could be, Dad”—meet us there. Remind us that we are already seen, already loved, and already known by You.
You are our forever Father—and in Your embrace, we find peace.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.
In loving memory of my father—your life still speaks.
Your legacy lives on in every word I write, every sermon I preach, and every step I take toward the calling God placed on my life. I miss you more than words can express. But I carry your love with me always.

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