Fathers...

Today was super hard.  There have been other painful Father's Days in the past 4 years, but today reduced me to tears.  I'm not reduced to actual tears very often.  I don't cry a lot.  Even in my most depressive states (I am prone to depressive periods), I don't cry.

I joked with my kids a little, over the past few days, that they should make ME a Father's Day card, since I do both jobs.  My second son woke up this morning and did just that.  Love that kid and his big heart.  For the most part, it was just another day.  We went over to my parents' yesterday to celebrate with my dad.

On Friday, my oldest son brought home a gift he made for his father at school.  Since they will be seeing him in person in about 4 weeks, he decided he would give it to him then.  It was a jar, filled with thoughts on "Dad" and there are 10 little pieces of paper, raving, literally RAVING about how his dad is the best in the world, the most awesome, the most epic, the best a boy could ever have.  And while I'm happy he feels this way, it also makes my heart ache a ton.  An "awesome" dad doesn't walk out on his kids.  An "epic" dad doesn't throw away his marriage to their mother.  The "best" dad wouldn't be satisfied with a 15 minute Skype call once a week, from the other side of the planet.  A GOOD dad doesn't choose a job, a country, or a girlfriend over his CHILDREN!  The hurt part of my heart wants to drill that into my son, but I know that's not my place.  It is my place and my duty to encourage my children to love their father in whatever way they choose, and to support them.  But it kills me that they idolize him.

This morning, I wasn't feeling well.  We have yet another cold running through our house.  I felt wave after wave after wave of sadness washing over me as I hung out on my couch.  And then, the tears started flowing and flowing.  I carry this weight of sorrow in my heart, for the choice I made 14 years ago.  I made a choice to marry that man, to build a family with him.  Because of that choice, I have these 3 kidlets, who are the lights and loves of my life!  But that same choice now will cause them a lifetime of hurt, pain, confusion, as they are forever connected to this man who does not and will not parent them the way they should be.  I carry the burden of that, because it was MY choice.  I know God has forgiven me for it, but the sorrow is still there.  My children have pain because of it.  Every Father's Day.  Every time they see a dad interacting with his kids at the park.  Every milestone they will reach, and dear old dad has put them at the bottom of his priority list.  I regret marrying him, and I regret giving this legacy to these precious babies.

So I cried.  A lot.  My daughter saw me.  It might be the first time she's ever seen me cry.  I certainly filled her hair and clothing and blankets with the many tears I shed in her first few weeks of life, but she's never witnessed Mummy crying.  She had been asking me to read her a book.  She got very still when she saw me.  I whispered to her that sometimes Mummy gets sad and cries, just like she does sometimes.  She put down the book beside her and moved closer to me and climbed halfway into my lap, facing outward, and just rested her head on my body, and held my arm around her, and she let me cry.  When I was done, she hugged me, and I read her the book.  Her automatic reaction to comfort me was such a beautiful gift.  In so many ways.

My dad also dropped off some eggs for me (I order them through a lady in their church), and I hugged him, so tight, wishing him a Happy Father's Day.  I didn't want to let go, and we're not a super huggy family.  But he hugged me tightly also.  I have an earthly dad who reflects my Heavenly Dad.  I am blessed beyond measure to have witnessed and experienced a dad like him.  And while my children love their grandpa, it's not the same as having him for a dad.

God put this verse in my head today:  "Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows."  James 1:17.

I have, and my children have, the most perfect Father, who gives us the most perfect gifts.  He is there, in the midst of my sorrow, and heaviness, and pain.  As my children have pain, He is in their midst, too.  I pray they will recognize Him, turn to Him, grow in love for Him.  I thank Him for his comfort in my sorrow today. He doesn't always take that sorrow away, but He promises to be there in it.

And... I'm glad this day is over.