Father's Day 2014

Father's Day has always been a complicated holiday for me. Too many emotions whirling around in my mind and heart. Now that I have my own children who have a loving father present in their lives, the burden is eased, but still aches.

I remember very little about my father in my younger years. I pretend to remember through photographs. We awkwardly reunited when I was 18 and kept in touch via mail and a few visits as he moved out of state. When I was 20 years old, he was diagnosed with colon cancer and died 3 months later.

I grieve what could have been. I think of what should have been when I was a little girl. I try to focus on the immense gratitude I feel that we were even able to spend some time together. And that he accepted Christ as his Savior and my family's years of prayers were answered. But Father's Day still stings. Some years more than others. And I am never prepared and I never expect it.

Pictures like this tell me he did love me. But I don't have the memories of him actually speaking it to me. I do have some cards and letters signed with love. And that is comforting. But not the same.

I was very blessed by the various men that took on important roles throughout my life, standing in the gap for me. My neighbor, Phil, who taught me how to play softball, gave me frog milk to drink and came over in the middle of the night when a tree crashed into our house during a tornado. Bill, my brother-in-law, who took an unwilling little Donna to a father/daughter dance. Jim, a high school boyfriend's father, who taught me what a godly leader of a family looks like and the respect I should be given in relationships. Joe, another brother-in-law, who showed me dads can be fun and will most likely want to watch ball games at all times. My Pap-Pap, my mother's dad, who was affectionate and communicated unconditional love. And of course the various youth pastors and teachers who simply lived life and gave me examples of Christian marriage, parenting, and random advice when I asked my crazy questions.

I remember the year I finally realized the burden my mother was under as she parented me alone. I gave her a Father's Day card that year, thanking her for being both mom and dad to me. She encouraged me to forgive my father and pray for him. She encouraged communication when I was fearful. She gently guided my anger of not having a father to be used toward pursuing a relationship with my Heavenly Father. And He has never let me down.

"A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling." Psalm 68:5

I come from a long line of non-verbal-commuincators. I find writing to be my outlet. I know my family loves my spurts of heartfelt letters that make everyone feel a little weird, but hopefully, mostly loved. I blog so that M and E will understand me one day. Maybe so that I will understand me one day.

I was fairly emotional, mostly angry, this year. The sermon and its accompanying pictures made me tense. I wasn't very fun to be around. I loosened up a little and we were able to have a great afternoon celebrating Josh at Smithgall Woods.

I absolutely LOVE to watch him be a wonderful Daddy to our girls. But some moments prick my heart. Make me sad for little Donna. That grew up into complicated Donna.

Thank the sweet Lord HE is more than capable to handle my baggage and His GRACE covers all of my quirky thoughts, muddled emotions and explosive outbursts. I am a work in progress, as are we all. He has surrounded me with the right people, at the right moments, to meet all of my needs.

Just as He will continue to do for my own little girls as I pray they find the only love that can surpass their earthly Daddy's. In a relationship with their Heavenly Daddy.