To Fathers

I reckon this would be more appropriate as a Father's Day post, but it's been on my mind and June is a long way away.

Fathers, love your daughters well. This is important, so I'm going to repeat that for you.

Fathers, love your daughters well.

Fathers, love your daughters well.

You will make mistakes, and she might think you're a doofus or a nuisance, but she needs you. So love her - she loves you.

I'm going to let you in on a secret, fathers; it's the reason why I wanted to charge you with this post. Fatherless daughters have a hole in their lives that never fully heals. At best, it's just an old scar they carry. How do I know? Because I'm one of them.

My parents divorced when I was very young, and I never knew my father. I have no memories of him, and I never saw more than a picture of him growing up. Learning the reasons why my parents split led me to gratitude for not growing up under a man wholly unprepared for fatherhood, but that didn't change the fact that I wanted someone to call "dad."

Now, I was incredibly blessed growing up. My mom is a Christian and raised both me and my sister to see God as our Father, and that was invaluable to me as I matured. Because of my firm foundation and essential relationship with the Father, I didn't become one of the statistics so often associated with fatherless children. All credit and glory to God! But that doesn't mean I was fine, or even that I am now. It just means that my "daddy issues" were covered by God's grace and I didn't act out anywhere near as severely as others in my situation might have. All through my adolescence, I wanted a father figure, someone to look up to. And I was indeed blessed with a number of godly men in my life that I could look up to. However, there was no one I could have seriously called "daddy."

God has been teaching me more about what it really means to have a dad, and what it means to call Him Abba ("daddy"). I got one more piece to the puzzle the other day when I was reading one of my friends' blog posts. At the end of the post, she invited her readers to stop a moment and ask God to tell them what His name is for them. I did, and you know what I heard, almost immediately? "My little girl." Hearing that was such a blessing; it was one of the few times I've been so happy that I cried.

Obviously, there is healing in hearing the Almighty God call me His little girl, but it's also important for me and daughters like me to see fathers loving their little girls. We didn't grow up with it, and you better believe we watch you. How else can we learn what fatherhood looks like with human men (as opposed to abstract concepts of God the Father)?

So, from a girl who knows how much it means to have a loving father, I charge all you men with daughters: Love her well! And make sure she knows she's your little girl.