A Tale of Two Dads

The first is the father of Eleanor. Easily the biggest fan of Israeli women's softball, with her wispy blonde curls fighting the wind underneath her white, over-size, backwards baseball cap, she quickly charmed everyone at the field into being "her friend." Anything but shy, she humorously informed me that "mosquito came to town" on my kneecap. She then educated me on the Hebrew name of the Israeli version of a ladybug, which happened to be her favorite. We sat in the stands, lemonade pops dripping stickily down arms and onto the bleachers, and I taught her how to cheer the team on; at least until it was time to wash the sugary sweet lemon juice off her arms. I leapt at the opportunity because Eleanor made you smile with her contagious and addictive four-year-old personality.
What does this have to do with Eleanor's father? Everything. You see, Eleanor's father brought her to a softball game a while back, and with her incredible personality, she won hearts and invitations from the players to return and watch some more games. Her father brought her back. He sat patiently while she bounded around the park, all the while keeping an eye on her. He bought her ice cream, after teaching her the patience to wait past 10 am to have it. He played catch with her when she grew tired of sitting on the uncomfortable wooden bleachers. And he taught her manners and to be polite as she made new friends all around the softball park. He gave her hugs and kisses and smiled proudly at her winning charm and personality.

The second father is an unknown name and a face of a little girl on an airplane with her mother and siblings. I don't know her name so we'll call her Anna. Anna pranced around the front of the airplane as if it were her center stage. She smiled and curtsied in her thick winter coat and denim ruffled skirt. My friend James was sitting indian-style next to me in the front section where Anna pranced around while we played cards. Anna charmed her way into our hearts as well, tip-toeing into the middle of our circle and placing a solid hand of solace on James' shoulder as though she were 30 years his elder. Then, she popped him in the nose with her tiny fist, much to our enjoyment and laughter! For several minutes she slipped in and out of our line of vision, always smiling her sweet little two-year old smile in James' direction. "She misses her father," Anna's mother informed us. "It's been a month since she's seen him, and so she likes men better."

If this were a parable, put roughly, I think it would go something like this:
There were two fathers, one each with a daughter. The first father tended to his daughter with much affection and attention, and she grew up to love him and his way and she had many friends and much laughter. The second father loved his daughter but was separated from her for a time and was unable to raise her up in his way. She strayed from him and filled the void of her father with other things in this life which were not always good.
John 15:5

There is a very LARGE and DEMANDING call from fathers. I'm not one, so I can't say that I know very much about it, but I can say it is obvious to me how important that role is just by examining the lives of young children I work with and observe in various places.

I do know about the role of my Heavenly Father, however; and that should I be separated from Him for a time, I will stray and begin to fill His void with other things which are not satisfying and cannot ultimately take His place. Nonetheless, He loves me, and if I remain with Him, I will be fruitful.

Dads, it is your job to teach your daughters about their relationship with God. You are the earthly model of what that relationship should look like, and like it or not, you are the earthly model of what that relationship will look like. Feel like that's a lot in a man's hands? Whew, I feel for ya, brothers; you better start praying about that one if you haven't already!!