June 21 marked a special
day this year, set aside as a day to celebrate dads. It was Father’s Day.
Normally, being away
from home on any holiday, doesn’t bother me.
I’ve missed all the major ones (Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter)
before due to my year on the World Race.
I have missed birthdays and Mother’s Day (twice in a row!! Oops sorry
mom!) but for some odd reason, missing
Father’s Day this year was one of the hardest days to miss.
So what was it about this
year that made missing Father’s day so hard?
Easy answer.
It is because of where I
am.
Instead of spending the
day this year with my own dad, I spent it with children half way around the
world who are ‘fatherless’ according to society’s standard. Instead of going for an early round of golf
(basically me being the caddy) with my dad; an early morning church service, African
style, took place. What followed was an
impromptu photoshoot with a few of the older girls and a full day of hugs and
laughter through hanging out with the kids.
Even through the laughter and silly moments, I could feel God giving me
a ‘different’ set of eyes, stirring something up once again in my heart.
It took a ‘shoulder to
shoulder’ conversation on the grass with one of the students (who has quickly become
one of my favourites) in my English class, to reveal to me exactly what God was
trying to teach me. What started off as
a simple question, “How is God?” (aka; what is God teaching you?) turned into
her sharing a piece of her story with me.
Words cannot describe the very real, very raw pain that was still present
in this individual’s voice as she shared.
She told of how her father had rejected her early on and that he wanted
nothing to do with her. I could feel the
rage build up within me towards this man as I continued to listen to her share. Thoughts of, “How DARE he? How dare he do that to her. Doesn’t he know how impacting a statement like that, can be? I’d love
to get my hands on his neck and throttle him good.”
Although I have heard
more intense stories than this before, there was something about hearing this
one that struck me. Perhaps it was due
to the fact that I knew I was missing Father’s Day at home. Or perhaps it was that I knew I was (am)
surrounded by kids and teenagers alike who do know what it is like to have a
dad attend/coach their sporting endeavours, supporting and cheering them on
from the side. They don’t know what it
is like to have a treasure hunt that last way longer than they should (sorry dad!),
or spend countless number of hours getting help on that one specific math
question (again, sorry dad!). That is
what broke my heart the most; the fact that these kids do not have memories of
their own like that.
While she was sharing and
during this time of internal wrestling going on inside of me, I could feel my
Father Above whispering into my ear. “Nikki,
tell her about MY love. About how I will
never ever reject her. How I created her
for a purpose, for a specific reason.
How, each day, she is growing within me even though she does not
personally know me. I am what she is
truly searching for”.
…A Father…
A Father to the fatherless. A Pure, Perfect, Holy
Father who literally sent His own son to die a painful death on the cross so
that we may live in HIM and know HIM. That is God. Without Him in our lives, we are all 'fatherless'.
My prayer that day, and every day since is that this girl (and those like her at home and around this globe) will know their Father Above. That they will know that God has NOT rejected them and that He never will. That they will know the love of a true Heavenly Father.
-------------------------
For the record, I did
call my dad back in Canada that day.
We didn’t talk about
anything to deep or serious. We simply
talked.
Even from half way around
the world, I could feel the support and love from my dad. A support and love that propels me here each
and every day to love these kids even harder.
To be there for them as they celebrate a soccer/netball win. To encourage them to practice hard and study hard. To keep them guessing with daily English related
riddles and to embrace them with arms wide open as they (the young ones) run at
me for a hug. Although the only thing my
dad and I would read together were the daily crossword puzzle in the newspaper,
my evenings are now free to spend time reading with the older youth. This reading time is often one of the
highlights of my day.
So much more could be said. But for now, thank you Dad.
Thank you for being my dad and for loving me the way you do.
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| Reunited after 11 months abroad |
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