Father’s Day comes with complicated feelings for many of us. Usually, this is because of our relationships with our own fathers. We didn’t have the kind of dad we needed, he was a danger to us, or he wasn’t in our lives at all. So Father’s Day can be a reminder of the pain that exists because of broken relationships and sins committed against us.
And for many of us in the church, Father’s Day hurts for another reason: shame.
The Comparison Game We All Play
You try not play the comparison game, but you can’t help it. You look at families in your congregation, where all the teens are sitting with their parents and listening and singing. Social media reminds us of how blessed some dads feel. But your kids, despite your best efforts, don’t follow Jesus. Maybe your spouse has walked away from the Lord, or, perhaps, from you. You sit alone, with Fathers Day does reminding you that you are a failure.
But are you? I’m not so sure.
See, the older I get, and as my children get closer to living on their own, the more I am tempted to feel like a failure. I experience the unwanted moments of jealousy, the loneliness on certain Sundays, all of it. Even though I know that appearances only tell a part of a story, it’s hard not to. After all, right now, only one of my kids has openly chosen to follow Christ. One is open about not being a Christian (though she is not rude or disrespectful in her disagreement, which I appreciate). The other is… well, it’s hard to say with that child. But it’s where we are.
We did all the things we were “supposed” to do as parents. I did my best to teach them about Jesus and to model what it means to follow him as best as I’m able. And of course there are so many ways I could have done things differently with our kids. I know I have fallen short of my own expectations, and where I’ve let my kids down. So when I look around, it’s hard not to feel like I’ve failed—to see myself as a failure.
Why We See Ourselves as Failures
But failing and being a failure are different things. Here’s the thing: To say, “I’m a failure,” is to take on a responsibility that does not belong to us. We are prone to see ourselves as responsible for kids’ salvation. So we read Proverbs 22:6—”Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it” (NKJV)—as a command rather than wisdom. We look at Ephesians 6:4 and Deuteronomy 6:6-7’s commands to teach our children diligently, to teach and admonish them in the ways of the Lord, and forget that they say little about our children’s response.
We look at these and see ourselves as responsible for the results.
The Hard Work of Trusting the Lord With Our Kids
But that responsibility is not ours. We are responsible for our faithfulness, our teaching and modeling what it means to follow Jesus to our families. That’s it. Everything else ultimately belongs to the Lord. Why? Because our children are people. They are not extensions of ourselves, but distinct individuals with their own thoughts, feelings, and struggles. Their lives are a story that we play a role in, but we are not the main characters.
This might be the hardest part of parenting: Knowing all the ways we have fallen short, but trusting the Lord to do what only he can do. That, at the right time, the Holy Spirit will move, and our children will see their need for Christ. That, at the right time, they will believe, no matter how long it takes or what they have to experience to get there.
You and I are not responsible for making our kids Christian. That is a power that does not belong to us. And when we try to take that responsibility upon ourselves, we can’t not feel like failures.
But that is not who we are. Our children’s fate belongs to the Lord, and we can trust that—and them—to him.
You are not a failure.
Neither am I.
Photo by Road Ahead on Unsplash
