Father's Day.
My children... still without their earthly father in their lives.
I thought it would get easier, going through yet another Father's Day with my children longing for their dad, but somehow this year was harder.
Their dad was "around" last year for Father's Day, sort of. He had spent roughly six months seeing them multiple times a month after a year-and-a-half-ish disappearance. But by Father's Day, he was slowly fading out again.
It's now been nearly a year since the kids have seen or heard from their dad. I am holding onto hope that progress is being made, after finally talking with their dad again, that they will see him again soon, and that he will be a positive in their lives. But, when you've had your trust violated hundreds of times by the same person, even when you believe with your whole soul that God can and does perform miracles, and can redeem anything and everything, you're very skeptical and guarded even when things seem they may turn around.
This year, the children are all older, obviously, and each one of them understanding Father's Day now, makes it harder on them. In turn, it's harder on the mom who is also pulling the weight of the dad.
This morning, we woke up for church, the kids were excited as they are every Sunday. Then, the oldest mentioned it was Father's Day. The middle one laid back down with the covers over his face and proclaimed he was sad. He missed his daddy. He never sees his daddy, and his daddy is rude because his daddy doesn't make good choices. I never have told them any details of their dad's abandonment or betrayals, just that he's not making good choices. I started crying, unable to hold back tears, and told them all how sorry I was that their dad is still not making the choices that lead him back to them, and that I know they miss him, and that I miss him being in their lives too. We regrouped and moved happily on to church.
While at daycare, the children made their gifts for me, or for their Papa. They were all thrilled to do so.
At Sunday School this morning, two out of three of them made pictures for their dads. It was either an oversight or perhaps the teacher had no idea. The kids handled it well, though.
I sobbed at church. I often cry, because worship moves my soul like that. But today, I just felt the pain my children have been expressing over the past week. I have been weighed down with their burden, knowing that I cannot understand what it must feel like to be rejected by their dad. I cannot imagine being so young, and feeling like my dad doesn't care enough about me to see me. Or call me. Or send a card. I just cannot wrap my mind around that, and to know they have pain I can't understand breaks my heart.
They're all so strong, though. Truly.
At daycare on Friday, someone kept asking my oldest son repeatedly, "Is your dad even gonna be there for Father's Day?" My son said nothing. He was so strong.
The message was obviously themed around fatherhood, fathers of all kinds, including spiritual fathers. I am so blessed to be able to look around the sanctuary, right around my own seat, and see men who have stepped up as spiritual fathers in my childrens' lives. God placed me in the perfect church for my children for that reason. They are loved there.
The message was hard, though, as I sat, knowing that their dad was somewhere across town, not embracing his God given role to be a father to his own children. I felt the burden of a father, pulling as much as I can of the weight of both roles. But I'm not a father. I'm a mother doing as much as she can in the absence of a father. It's obviously not the same. I wept. I'm so grateful for the support I have in church, as my dear friend whispered she had already placed tissues under my chair, because she knew it was going to be a hard day for me. That's love.
We came home, and the kids all were silent for a while. We talked about missing their dad again. They watched a cartoon and I hid in my room for a bit, crying again, just thinking about how much they miss him, and how I hope with all my heart he will follow through and be reunited with them.
I decided that we would leave and enjoy the park and the sunshine and fresh air, laughter and memories together, because we are good at that. But, of course, being Father's Day, the park was filled with big gatherings and lots of kids with their dads. My children noticed too, and we each had separate moments together under the tree where I filled them with God's Truth about who they are, their value, and my love for them. Every single one of them told me I was the best mom in the whole world and that they loved me so much. And I stopped crying. Because I knew they were really okay, even though they were hurting.
Because God's got us, as he always does.
But, like I said, this year was harder. I also believe it was harder, because it's yet another year, another milestone, another holiday, where their dad is consciously choosing to be absent. Yes, he's contacted me with interest in seeing them. But he hasn't followed through completely, has stalled out some, and we aren't where we thought we would be by now. And I know that's on him, and I know that I am doing what's best for my children in giving him steps to follow through and not a free pass. But that doesn't make it easy. It doesn't mean it doesn't feel like I'm hiding things from them.
I have to just keep praying.
Even when it's hard.
Especially when it's hard.
But hopefully, this year will be the last year where my kids have a dad-less Father's Day.
The good news is, we WILL make it through, no matter what, stronger, happier, more resilient, and filled with boundless joy and love. It has been our testimony since the day our world started crumbling. God's mercies are new every morning.
