For over twenty years Father’s Day has been about the children in my life. I can’t remember when I last experienced Father’s Day… as a daughter. I don’t know if I ever have.
Because of work, my father spent his life on the road. He divided his down time between the families of the children he sired. I don’t think this ever went over well with my mother. She came to New York with friends straight out of high school and married my father after being here only 3 weeks. By the time my siblings and I were old enough to know the deal…well the jig was up. We only brought presents for him if we knew he’d be with us on a particular holiday. Father’s Day wasn’t a holiday in our home.
A chill comes over me as I write that. Whatever it is around my heart over this, is heavy and it hurts. It feels known and unknown. Finding the words is hard. But part of a holy work I have to do. Whatever it is, is bitter and bolted shut. The taste of blood reminds me I’ve bitten my tongue…for too long.
Big Daddy worked and Ila had a long session at the ice skating rink on Sunday. We came home nap needy and worn from the week. I wanted to bake a cake, really I did, but instead curled up with Ade’ on the couch feeling like a little girl lost. Not knowing why.
I’ve watched my children grow strong and secure in the love of a sensitive and caring father. There is no shortage of live out loud hugs and juicy kisses in our home. Clouds of “I love you” cover us, flowing, settling, hovering. In and out. It’s real and it’s free. This is the gift and grace of love coming from a man who didn’t know his father. My husband loves like Jesus does and one of the sweetest gifts of his fatherhood is how it magnifies my motherhood.
Rodney doesn’t fully understand what I mean when I say “everything’s different when you’re at home”. But his presence in our home is redemption. Whole and complete. A fatherless son and a broken daughter working out life as parents in Christ. Cue the holy hallelujahs y’all. Through our children, the curse of fatherlessness is broken. But I know there’s more.
For me. Although I know and love my heavenly father a real part of me walks around fatherless. I’ve never let anyone father me. I nurture because it’s my calling but what if I nurture because of the love I’ve missed. That’s redemptive but still, a little messed up.
Little girls are always looking for approval from their fathers. Until one day they aren’t. I guess that’s when the steel turns cold. Solid, stainless. We polish it up and call it shiny. You won’t see the scars…because of all that brilliant bright light.
I wrote my father a letter once, and a good while after, welcomed him into my home. The acknowledgement of my letter came with a hug. One I thought healed the wound. But that day marked the closing of a door. I thought writing the letter freed me. And it did. Just not in the way I thought. A part of me wrote the letter to say goodbye. Self-sanctioned walking papers, releasing me from a lifetime of hurt. From that point on, a part of me didn’t care. And I don’t think I meant for that to happen. Because if you asked me now I’d say I love him. I’ve remained loyal in my words but not in my heart. Not completely.
All these years later, Father’s Day, for me, as a daughter, means nothing. I have a loving father in Christ but haven’t embraced the concept enough to feel like celebrating. My wedding picture with my father was obligatory. He showed up. We both played our part. The tears you see in the pictures have nothing to do with him. I cried because of the love I felt in the room, in spite of him. That’s redemptive…too…and still, a little messed up.
Ade’ settles his 3-year-old boy body near mine and I realize I’m sad about all this. I remember the hugs of father figures in my life. And how I’ve never allowed anyone to get too close. I remember the way my children wrap their bodies around my husband – like he belongs to them. And he does. I imagine how right a hug like that must feel. That’s what I’ve missed. The feeling of being a daughter in the arms of an earthly father.
I don’t write this to complain. God is still on the throne and my sitting in the park crying behind my mamas’ sunglasses is part of the real work He’s doing in me. I’ve said before…blogging…all this online loveliness, is part of something deeper. It’s the grace plan for my life being walked out…one step at a time. This is what healing looks like. It’s what has to happen before I can fly.
In writing this I recognize it’s not about my father. It’s about me and how I grew up….the daughter of two particular parents. My father was honest to a fault and lived life on his own terms. I can’t be mad at that. I’m not mad at all.
I’m sad. This is the real talk from a real girl who finally put the pieces together. This weekend, I missed the love of my father. I let these words pour from my heart because my messed up redemption demands it. For now, it’s what I’m working with. I’ll let words like these do the work, bringing with them, the promise of agape love. The freedom found in full redemption.
and this…a Father’s Day promise for all
“I’ll be a Father to you; you’ll be sons and daughters to me.” – 2 Corinthians 18 MSG
Linking with Kelli today for Unforced Rhythms.
This is the most beautiful song, it speaks to the brokenness and hope – the real life possibility of a relationship with a father. The full breadth of what I call, a dream.
Dance With My Father…by Luther Vandross
The Post I Didn’t Write…on Father’s Day http://t.co/3IUh3HBcLU
Oh freind– I so understand this. Growing up Father’s Day was just another day another rejection. Thank you for sharing your heart with us. Love you.
Jennifer Peterson recently posted…He sees you:
It hit me like a brick yesterday Jennifer. Hard to believe I never made the connection until now. He doesn’t heal in bits and pieces so I want full redemption. Writing it today is part of that. Hugs to you for the pain you’ve suffered around this topic.
I have no words for this, Lisha.
Such vulnerable words of both hurt and healing and Jesus and always redemption.
The Hound of Heaven has been chasing you for so very long, friend. Love the way you write your life.
Lori Harris recently posted…Messenger {Five Minute Friday}
That He’s continually pursued me is a blessing. I’m grateful and see His work, His hand in everything I do. Love that you’re here for this Lori!
Sniff. Thank you, Lisha. This is just heart-rending, but more than a little beautiful.
In fact, yours is the third post I’ve read today to shine a sideways light at the Father’s Day holiday. Not that it’s a bad thing to celebrate fathers – I didn’t hear you saying that at all – but that it is not an easy day for you. For some very valid reasons. Can tell you, my friend, that you are not alone? Can I wait with you in the dark as the rebirth grows into light? … Redemption is like that. But that’s not news to you, is it?
All my love, dear Lisha.
Kelli Woodford recently posted…Upon Returning {or Because the Magic is All Around Us}
I do know and it’s why I wait in confidence. Full redemption is a promise. It belongs to me. Grateful for your presence in this uneasy space Kelli.
No one I know speaks with their heart like you do, my friend. I wish I could put these Montana arms around your New York neck and squeeze on you a bit. Redemption comes in all shapes and sizes and wounds and scars. I pray for healing on that little girl’s heart of yours. Blessings on your head, friend.
Marcy Hanson recently posted…Psalms Series: 113
I’ve missed you around here Marcy but I know you’re busy with the move etc. I feel your hug girl. And I like it. Thank you my sweet friend.
@lishaepperson thanks for the share, friend. and your words here? oh my, how very moving.
Your post is achingly real and honest. I so relate to your story, although I did have my dad for my first nine years. I wrote a three part story of God’s healing in my heart over Daddy leaving mama and us for another woman. (A Journey of Forgiveness on my blog sidebar). I remember when I was about your age, crying on Father’s Day and telling God “Happy Father’s Day” because I realized that He was the One Who deserved to hear it from me.
Elizabeth Stewart recently posted…What’s not to love…
Oh… sister… I read this and I ache with you. Over the hugely painful gaps and what’s “messed up” that shouldn’t be, and I just so resonate with your words here. It blesses me so deeply — your courage to say what’s hard and painful and not neatly put together — and to love Jesus in the midst of all the imperfection. Really love your heart, friend.
The Post I Didn’t Write…on Father’s Day
#UnforcedRhythms http://t.co/NDCFZY7v9i
@lishaepperson — the post I am so thankful that you wrote. xo
The Post I Didn’t Write…on Father’s Day
#fathers #daughters
http://t.co/etVk9hppli
Lisha, Thank you so much for visiting CMB and leaving a comment. I am glad to meet you and look forward to getting to know you better. Your words are heartfelt and honest. I know you speak words that many share and your story will help them with theirs. Blessings to you!
Deb Wolf recently posted…I Don’t Pray for Patience
Thanks Deb!
Oh how I love this, and you! I too am blessed with a Honey who is an Ah-MAY-Zing Father and it has blessed me so, but nothing can replace that real belonging and father relationship really! I’m so glad you wrote this and I am praying for you, my friend… for us!
~Karrilee~ recently posted…That Thing I Do Now – Vol 48
I’m confident in the work He’s begun. He is faithful to complete it. Hope your birthday was extra special.
Hard, honest, powerful. Thank you for opening your story to us, and your heart. Our stories are different, but we have some similar long-term effects. Thank you for writing this post that you didn’t write for Father’s Day. I’m going to store it up inside to ponder.
Ann Kroeker recently posted…Pursuing Your God-Given Dreams
Hi Ann! Truth is powerful and.sets us free. Based on responses to this post I see I’m not alone. Many have expressed similar hurts. I know He hears our cry. Blessings.
Oh, dear Lisha,
I just want to hug you right now for being so brave and beautiful by doing the hard work of grief and working out the pain in our little girl hearts…you are inspiring me to continue with my own processing…((hugs))
Dolly@Soulstops recently posted…To hear God’s message of love (& why we need you)
The emotions behind this post caught me by surprise. I didn’t know how i felt until i wrote it out. It’s been a fe days since this writing. Im feeling loved. Amen.
I think you must be my soul-sister! Every word – I’ve been there – from the curse being broken to saying to God, “I know you’re the best father ever – but I’m having a hard time down here – in the tangible – where I can hug it” – and He’s taken me on a journey – to fill those holes. He gave me a spiritual mother and father – where I learned to receive the Father words – because like you – it’s hard to trust – hard to receive when your heart doesn’t know it to trust it. God wants His girls whole – and He will fill that hole. Right now, I don’t always have to blow my nose when I hear “butterfly kisses.” Anytime you need a cup of coffee – and you’re feeling down – you should just come on down here to the blue cotton house! We won’t just sit in our brokenness – we’ll rejoice God lifting us out of it!
bluecottonmemory recently posted…where the happily-ever-after grows
Soul sisters – yes. My story is fragmented yet redeemed. So amazing, what He’s already done. What I know He will do. Thanks for listening to my heart.
Thank you for this Lisha. I’m walking around inside that pain too, I tend to want to push it down, but I believe there is something so necessary in feeling it, not to dwell there, but to move through, feel it out, that old wound. Ah, yes, there, that’s where it still hurts. May Christ enter in through the pathway of our pain.
Kelly Chripczuk recently posted…The Other L Word
Its important to express our vulnerability. Healing vomes when we show parts of us we don’t want others to see.when we are eeak He is made strong.Thanks fot visiting Kelly.
Lisha, this post is truly from the heart. I feel for you, I feel with you.
KalleyC recently posted…Slow To Anger
This one surprised me Kalley.So glad I wtote it. Let the healing begin.
The Post I Didn’t Write…on Father’s Day http://t.co/99l41L1bZU via @lishaepperson
As I take a huge sigh, Lisha, I think about the “missing” moments, the wondering, the non-existent hugs. I feel heavy. For you. For your husband. For me. I had my Daddy until I was 12; then he died. I so needed his touch in my life and am grateful for those years with him. But I miss him still after 53 years. I was able to write a Father’s Day post this past weekend for the FIRST time. My spirit was filled with sweetness though…in my thoughts, in my heart. Much different than your experience.
How many have missed having an earthly father for whatever reason? I tutor children who are missing their dads in different ways. The absence affects each child in a different way.
Caring through Christ, ~ linda
~ linda recently posted…Sustains, Lifts, Delivers
Hey Linda…I think the song/video hit me hard this year. I’ve always loved it but this year, for the first time sensed a personal disconnect. I longed for whatever I imagined I missed. Praying for continued healing as you take the next steps in processing your loss.
The Post I Didn’t Write…on Fathers Day #fathersday
http://t.co/ORy0L9KTQq
What beautiful words! I just tried to explain to my husband that it is so much harder when he isn’t here… it is different and I feel secure when he is home and not travelling. The family is complete. I think the heart of a wounded daughter will always crave that
The Post I Didn’t Write…on Father’s Day
#fathers #daughters
http://t.co/ORy0L9KTQq
i hear your heart and I am feeling sad and tender toward you this morning as i listened to the beautiful song. thank you for sharing this. We are headed back to PA for another memorial service for my dad with his family and friends, so this song was especially tender for me as i finally had time to listen to it. thank you.
Carol Longenecker Hiestand recently posted…Making it easier for your kids!
Lisha, so beautiful and heartbreaking and yes, redemptive. I so appreciate you and your voice.. and God’s glorious work in and through you.
Ashley Larkin recently posted…In memory of Grandma Fanny
I’m learning and growing Ashley…trusting Him for every step of the journey…especially the holy hard ones. Love you lady!
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