Today was the funeral of my father, a man in all honesty I didn’t personally know at all. It was an opportunity to honor his name and his life by those who loved him; and as such, a number of people stood and remarked about his generosity, his patience, his quirkiness, his loving nature, and the impact he’d made on them in childhood and adulthood. Sadly for my sister, brother and I, there was nothing incredibly substantial we could provide to that tribute. Sure, my sister began to develop a closer relationship with him recently and much later in life than the others, and even spoke on the contribution he’d made to her life in that short time, but the degree of connection between a daughter and father one would reasonably expect was definitely not there. And so, as we sat and heard story after story about my father, I couldn’t help but consider the contrary experience to all the others. I didn’t dwell on it for very long, having already come to the decision that this day, this moment, would not be about me, but about honoring the father of my step-siblings and loved one of so many others.
It’s an odd sensation though, to feel conspicuously omitted from a circumstance and with a realization that many others are unaware of that very realization. But the wondrous, beautiful part of that in today’s case was that I wasn’t the only one. My brother and my sister-in-law both felt the same thing, the same thickness in the air, and in the same moment; and they were loving and empathetic enough to reach out to me later in the day to check to see if I was ok for that reason. See, I was reminded that in that moment, I wasn’t alone in my ponderings or conspicuousness or in feeling the tiniest bit left out or overlooked – there was someone there with me; there always has been and there always will be.
It takes quite a balanced person, with quite a strong will and heart, to not feel *something* when it comes to the absence of a parent from your life, your childhood, your growth – even the smallest twinge of disappointment or uncertainty about exactly *what* to feel. After all, that seems like an almost elemental, evolutionary human expectation, hope – possessing and growing under the guidance of two parents; but unsurprisingly not everyone’s story is the same. The amazing thing is though, despite the inequity present between the lives of those who were able to enjoy my father as an available father, grandfather and friend, and the lives of my siblings, family and myself who did not, God supplies *all* of our needs according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus, and also according to His wisdom and mercy and unfailing love and attention. I didn’t have a human father to grow up under, to become the person I am today; but instead a heavenly Father and an incredible blessing of a mom, sister, brother and sister-in-law, and countless other family and friends – everything I could ever truly need.