How Jesus Gave Me Back My Dad

I’m linking up with my friend Kelly at Mrs. Disciple today. Join me over there for some great posts in honor of Father’s Day. 

Like so many kids of my generation, I lost my dad to divorce at a young age. Oh, I saw him every other weekend for many years, but visitation can’t replace a day-to-day relationship, as any child of divorce well knows. The older I grew, the farther apart we seemed to get, emotionally and relationally. Many factors contributed to this, and many of those factors weren’t my dad’s fault. They just were. I’m not going to unpack the years of grievances and issues here, because this is a thankfulness post, a celebration post, and because grace has washed all of that away. We are all broken, even in our relationships with our kids–as a parent myself now, I know that beyond a doubt. But I also know that God is bigger, and that he has the power to heal.

When I was in my mid-twenties, long after I’d given up on having a good relationship with my dad, he met Jesus. I was deep into my own faith by then, and I remember wondering what would come of God’s newfound claim on my dad’s life. I never imagined my dad would become a Christ follower. For years afterward, I watched as my dad developed a passion–a zealous one–for the Bible. I watched as his politics and his faith became inseparable, and then diverged again and took their rightful places. I sat through many a sermon in my stepmom’s kitchen, interjecting whenever I could get a word in edgewise to remind him that he didn’t have to try so hard to convert me–I was already a believer. I even had opportunities to speak truth into his life, to remind him that the faith we share is built on grace.

Because of Christ, I’ve had the pleasure of watching my dad’s transformation from a new believer into a true disciple. His journey reminds me that I’m in my own ongoing state of transformation–we all are, if we are walking with the Lord–and that the process will never be over. It also reminds me that God can lay claim to someone at any age. There’s no expiration date on Christ’s offer of salvation.

Today, sixteen or so years into his life as a Christian, my dad is a much softer person thanks to God’s constant efforts to work on his heart, and we have a relationship I could never have imagined. We chat on the phone fairly often, and he makes the eleven-hour trip from Michigan to Memphis every few months to see his granddaughters. L loves her papa tremendously; he’s a fantastic grandpa. We have great conversations about the state of the world, relationships, how to be intentional and on mission in our daily lives, and Scripture. We get to live out our faith together, thanks to our heavenly Father.

So this weekend, if you’re rolling into Father’s Day with a broken dad relationship in your life, I want to say this to you: Don’t stop hoping. Don’t stop praying. Don’t stop believing that God can heal the breach. Because he can.