I stepped into the grocery store and frowned at the bunches of “Happy Father’s Day” balloons, strategically placed by the entrance. If I’d been shopping for my husband or my now-grown sons, who are wonderful dads, my mission would have been easier. But that day, I had to buy a card for my father.
When I entered the packed aisle, I didn’t reach for the cards that raved about the depth of a father’s love and care over the years. I couldn’t relate to the messages gushing with gratitude for the patient, providing, and protecting dad. I didn’t dare consider a card addressed to the best or number one dad. Even the funny cards didn’t guarantee an easy pick. Instead, I looked for the generic cards with “Happy Father’s Day” written inside. All I’d have to do is sign my name.
Father’s Day Can Be Complicated
The woman next to me shoved her selection back into its slot and said, “Where are the cards that say I’m only buying this because I feel obligated?” Before I could tell her that she wasn’t alone, she left. I returned to the cards filled with lies I begrudgingly wished were true, for both of us.
I’d forgiven my father decades ago but ignored him as much as possible, a skill I’d improved after my mom died in 2014. I forced myself to check in on holidays, but didn’t feel guilty when I forgot. I forced an “I love you” before hanging up whenever I prayed enough to make myself call, because I wanted to obey God.
I turned to escape the feelings invading my space and bumped into my husband. I recognized sadness in his eyes. Father’s Day was complicated for him, too. He still grieved the loss of a man he felt deserved the gushing poems of gratitude and earned number one and best dad awards. He missed my stepson, who hadn’t returned our calls for years. But he also enjoyed a healthy and loving relationship with our youngest son. We spent time with him and his family regularly. So, I thanked God, pretended my unresolved feelings didn’t matter, and white knuckled the tension between celebrating and lamenting Father’s Day.
Seeing the Man God Loves
The following year, a decade after my mom died, I avoided the card aisle. I asked my husband to choose cards for both our sons. As Father’s Day approached this year, however, the Holy Spirit brought Exodus 20:12 to my mind repeatedly: “Honor your father and mother, so that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you.” Ever since I was a kid, I had been respectful, obedient, compliant, and forgiving even when my father treated me poorly. So I prayed, ranting about the heartaches and scars caused by over half a century of neglect along with emotional and verbal abuse. There were reasons I ran away at fifteen and reasons I hadn’t visited since my mom died.
As I prayed, the Holy Spirit helped me to see my earthly father as a man made in God’s image. I realized that I didn’t know all he endured as a child or a teenage immigrant from Mexico. I didn’t know what he experienced in the military or after returning to civilian life. I didn’t know why my parents broke up and got back together, why they left me with my grandparents for years, or why they returned and forced me to move hundreds of miles away from the only home that made me feel safe. There were reasons behind my father’s alcohol addiction, reasons for the harsh ways he communicated with me in the past, and even reasons for the current behaviors that made me keep my distance.
I didn’t really know my father or his reasons, but God knew him. God loved him. And Jesus died for him. But my earthly father told me that people had to earn respect while my heavenly Father commanded that I give honor to my parents without conditions, like a gift. Though I understood God’s command and reward in Exodus 20:12 benefitted the one who obeyed Him, I couldn’t obey with authenticity.
Honor is Linked to Love
As I prayed and studied the Scriptures, I discovered that the Hebrew word God chose for honor doesn’t only mean respect. The word also means to be failing and overflowing, to be weighed down, rewarded, and unyielding; “then by extension, negatively: hard, dull, stubborn, and difficult in circumstances; positively: substantial, honored, and glorious” (The NIV Exhaustive Concordance, H3877). Though these definitions seemed conflicting and complicated, much like my relationship with my father, their complexity revealed that honor is a gift linked to love.
In the Old and New Testaments, love for God is rooted in reverence toward God. Over a thousand years after God gave Moses the ten commandments, Jesus—God in the flesh—said those who loved Him would obey His commands, through the power of the Holy Spirit (John 14:15-17). I began feeling guilty about not reaching out to my father. Then, again, he proved that his treatment of me hadn’t changed for the better. I was done, until God led me to Matthew 22.
When an expert in the Law asked Jesus to define the greatest commandment, “Jesus replied, ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself’” (vv. 38–39). The Greek word for love in these verses is the active love God has for His Son and His people, as well as the active love He empowers us to express to Him, each other, and even those we consider enemies (The NIV Exhaustive Bible Concordance). The message seemed clear. If I wanted to honor and love my heavenly Father as I ought to, I would have to honor and love my earthly father, my closest familial neighbor.
Still, I grappled with God. Would He really want His beloved children to honor and love their earthly fathers when He knew our relationships were toxic or unsafe? The answer was as complicated as the definitions of honor and love.
Being Content with Complicated
Sometimes honoring with love is rejoicing over a number one dad. Sometimes honoring with love is remembering as we grieve the loss of a man who earned the best dad awards. Sometimes honoring with love is reconciling. And sometimes honoring with love is maintaining cordial contact or no contact, while navigating the twists and turns of our relationships with Spirit-empowered honesty, vulnerability, and courage.
Whatever honoring with love looks like in our relationships with our earthly fathers, we can acknowledge their value as God’s image-bearers and be content with complicated. Our unfailing God can redeem anything, restore anyone, and revive any relationship. We can trust Him, even when He chooses not to do any of these things on this side of eternity. And as we rest in the peace of God’s constant presence, we can trust Him when we realize we’ll be okay if He doesn’t.
Whether we’re celebrating or lamenting (or both) on Father’s Day, the one true God will empower us to rely on His relentless and radical love for us, our number-one-dads, and our not-so-number-one-dads. As a gift of honor and love to God the Father, we can ask God the Spirit to help us honor the men He used to give us life with the greatest gift of love we can offer anyone: We can pray God leads them to repentance, the forgiveness of their sins, and a life-changing relationship with God the Son.
—Written by Xochitl Dixon. Used by permission from the author.
