The other night, I was in a room full of adults and one teenage girl. Earlier in the evening, this young lady had stood before our group to explain her need and urged us toward action. Her high school speech club was holding a regional contest and they needed judges. I was not inspired to volunteer, only because of my full-to-the-brim schedule. But what struck me most about her was her father. When came to pick her up, he scanned the room looking only for one person, his daughter. He was uninterested in anyone else, even those who wanted to commend him for the wonderfully poised and articulate young woman he was raising. This earnest focus of a father on his daughter, caused me to remember my father.  

The Father Daughter Relationship

I’ll never forget my dad. As a kid, he was the one in whom I trusted far above any other adult in my life. He was the one who read me bedtime stories, and who tucked me at night. I’d sit on his lap on the front porch swing, his arms wrapped around me for warmth and comfort during those summer thunderstorms he loved to watch.  His presence assured me that I was cared for, cared about and watched over. Early on, I learned to rely on him, trust in his love for me and took for granted that he’d always be my dad. But then the worst thing in the world happened, something unimaginable to me. He ended his life. Poof! Just like that, he was gone. No longer did he exist on planet Earth. No longer was he alive. No longer was he my dad. 

It was an abrupt ending not only to his life, but also to our relationship. I missed him and for quite awhile, took his death personally. It wasn’t until I was well into my adult life, a parent myself, that I forgave him for the pain he caused. But even forgiveness does not erase the yearning a daughter has for her father. 

I missed my dad while in high school. I wanted to feel important to someone and if he’d been alive, I know I would have been important to him. I didn’t attend my high school graduation because I couldn’t even imagine my future. If he’d been alive, he would have pointed me in a suitable direction.  

I would have liked to have introduced my dad to the man who proposed to me, and to have him walk me down the aisle at my wedding. I know Dad would have been proud of me for choosing such a man as I’d chosen.

I missed my dad when I gave birth to my first son, and when we buried our third born. My sons never knew the man I called my father.  

His suicide left an absence that could be filled by no other.

But, this lack of a father also led me to seek what I was missing, or more clearly who I was missing. It did not happen immediately, but slowly over time. I built a relationship of trust with an unseen, but felt Father. I became familiar with his love, his voice and learned how to articulate my heartfelt needs.  

I know for sure, without any doubts, this Father is completely reliable, and trustworthy. His eyes are always on me and he will never leave me. 

Why bother considering your Father? Believing in God, and believing God for who he says he is, joins us to a Father who knows we are his.