Dear Little Man,
Father’s Day is coming up. It’s a day to celebrate the person God designated to be your earthly father. You have yet to see his face, but you seem to know him by his hands.
In the morning when he kisses me goodbye, he puts a hand on my belly. Not long after, you start kicking. At night, when you’re boxing up a storm, his calm hand often prompts you to settle down.
When you join us on the outside, his hands will be two of the first to hold you.
They will help feed you, burp you
Change your diaper, and rock you to sleep
They’ll provide balance as you learn to walk, or ride a bike
And when you fall, they’ll pull you back up on your feet
They’ll show you how to defend yourself
With stories from his scrappy days
And if you’re interested in the guitar, piano, or violin
They’ll demonstrate how to play
They’ll stay up late assembling Christmas presents
Meticulously assist you with class projects
They might even teach you how to chop fruits and vegetables
Because that skill? Not my strongest
They’ll clap when you succeed
Tap your behind when you misbehave
But the most valuable thing your father’s hands will do for you
Is fold together as he prays.
Your dad is not perfect. You may not always be happy with his decisions, and at times he’ll make mistakes. But he will do his best to lead you and I with strong, steady hands, and a heart of faith. He’ll fight for us, that we might always hear and heed the still small voice of God’s holy spirit amid the chaos and noise of a lost world.
He’s a good man. Unfortunately not everyone can say that about their father. I don’t expect you to recognize the love and effort he’ll put into raising you for a very long time, but it’s my hope that someday, when you’re leaving our home to pursue life on your own, you’ll understand. As you shake his hand and head out the door, you’ll know what a blessing it was, to be born his son.