Message from a Vicarious Father - Bradley Jersak

This mustn’t wait until Father’s Day makes it a platitude.

“But while he was still a long way off…”

Message from a Vicarious Father,

Some of you don’t have a father anymore.
Some of you never knew your father.
Some of you wish you hadn’t known your father.
Some of you had cruel fathers, sick fathers,
busy fathers, unfaithful fathers.

But what is almost certain is that
all of us have father wounds.

I know I do (and have done some work).
I know my kids do (and have done some work).

Some experience repentance, forgiveness or reconciliation
with their fathers, with themselves, or with their history
in this life.

Many don’t. Many can’t.

Nevertheless,
for those whose fathers have never said it but should have,
I have two things to say
as a dad with my own wounds,
as a dad who has inflicted wounds.

I didn’t earn the right to say this.

Nevertheless,
you may need to hear it.

First, for the wounds inflicted…
in knowledge or in ignorance
through actions or neglect
through roars or through silence
directly or indirectly
through shame or violence or betrayal
to you or your siblings or your mother
subtle or overt
and for all the ways a father can fail
to be a father…
for the wounds inflicted,
for the 10,000 paper cuts and the deepest gouges,
for the toxins infused so deeply they feel like they’re you,
for the moral stumbling blocks and emotional land mines inherited,

I am sorry.
I cannot fix you.
But I can say that I’m so, so sorry.
It should never have happened.
But it did.
Lord, have mercy.

And if your own father can never say these words,
or even feel them in his heart,
or make amends,
or repair what’s broken,
I am sorry. Truly sorry.

I hope reading these words offers some measure of solace.
And maybe some safe, healthy father you know and trust
would be willing to read this message aloud to you, even vicariously.
I hope you’ll find that father and let him.

Second, for those whose ears have never heard these words,
whose hearts have never felt them,
I want you to know that
I’m proud of you.

And the heavenly Father who is safe and kind and gentle,
who is unlike the father images who wounded us,
who has endured the scorn of seeing the word “father” tainted
and become a trigger…
the Father who is “especially fond of you”
and would come to you as The Shack’s black female “Papa”
the One Who sees your life from conception to completion—
that One deeply loves you today,
as you are.

Not in a way you need to earn it
or need to account for the ‘why.’

Just because.

For all those times when you waited anxiously
to hear those words
or despaired because you knew you never would,

I am saying them to you now
because it’s okay to let go
(or begin to let go)
of the burden of guilt or shame or grief
of your father wounds.

You can stop holding your breath now.
It’s okay to inhale and to sigh
and inhale again and again
to receive a Father’s blessing.

You can look up.
Make eye contact.
In my spirit, I see you.
And I’m proud of you.