Fathers

Being in the presence of my father always felt safe.  No matter what I did, even if he handed out discipline, I walked away from the experience feeling both loved and valued.  I may have not liked the punishment, but  I never once walked away from him feeling defeated or broken.  He somehow wove the concept of hope into every single solitary  interaction, and everything he did as a father was within a framework of love.  

What added to my feeling of safety was the way I witnessed my father treat my mother.  They had a ride or die, until death do us part, mutual respect and honor with Christ smack in the middle of it all.  I am under no illusion that everything was always perfect or even always ok.  Marriage relationships are nuanced, and require effort from both parties to be healthy and sustainable and my parents were no exception. But watching my father love and care for my mother unconditionally placed an indelible mark on my heart and mind.

What was particularly extraordinary to witness was how my father fulfilled  the role of the head of the  household.  My father was the head of our household but not in an overbearingly, power mongering,  patriarchal way (to the extent that’s possible within a larger  patriarchal societal construct - but I digress). I’m just saying that he fulfilled that role from a position of servitude,  in that he believed it was his responsibility to ensure the safety and well being of his family, both physically and emotionally,  both in and outside of the home.  He believed that financial provision, while necessary (and admirable I guess),  is not the only role of  a father.  My parents both contributed to the finances necessary to sustain the household.  I watched both of them work tirelessly so that my sister and I had the best of everything.  My father made sure we were aware of the shared sacrifice. That it was not just him. I’m telling you, having William James Story as a father was a privilege and a blessing. I thank God every day for such an extraordinary earthly father.

As I became older, I departed from the safe space of my father’s presence and entered into a space that on the exterior appeared as something wonderful and authentic, but in actuality was anything but.  It was not even in the realm of acceptable, let alone wonderful or authentic.  My father’s example caused me to reclaim my time from a situation that was not emotionally safe and begin to live in freedom again. My father’s voice was always inextricably linked to the Word of God, so that when my father passed away I was not left alone without a guide. My father would always sing the hymn, “No, Never Alone” and made sure I knew that the words he spoke to me were not his, but God’s. My father (and mother) taught me that God’s word is a refuge where I can continue to run to when storms rise. Listen here. Those words, that wisdom saved my life.

Father’s, it is my prayer that you make it a priority to provide emotionally and physically safe spaces for your children.   That you teach your children the Word of God and HIs will for their lives so that even when you are gone, your children will not be alone. I pray that you love your children fiercely without compromise and support them throughout their lives.  I am praying your strength as you endeavor to lead your families and pray that you lead them only as God leads you.

For those whom this day brings anxiety and pain, please know that there is a Heavenly Father who loves you more than any earthly father could.  He will never leave you, nor forsake you. In Him there is no lack.  He will fill the empty spaces in your life and lead you to safety.