Archive for the ‘Fathered by God’ Category

I grew up with a great dad and I couldn’t love him more. I said, “great,” not perfect.

There is only one Perfect Pop and that is the Everlasting Father: God.

As I got into my teens and early to mid-adulthood, I had a recurring below-the-surface sense that I was ill-prepared for navigating adulthood, life, challenges, career, relationships, etc. Some would fairly call this a ‘father wound.’ I didn’t like that tag because I really loved my dad. And I don’t like to load up on the excuses on his behalf. But like all dads, he had had his own challenges: his father’s suicide when he was 10, dropping out of school after eighth grade to work to support his fatherless household, being born in the early 20th century when farming and the trades were most men’s lives, having kids well into his fifties, etc.

Additionally, he also had seven children and sheer mathematics dictated that I couldn’t expect too much attention. He was busy making a living. And so the father wound imposed upon me was one of omission and not abuse or anything like that. Paul was, in fact, a great man.

So, all those life skills that you need in your teens, twenties and thirties weren’t exactly placed in my tool belt by my dad. I would fall prey to comparing myself to other men ‘who seemed to have it all figured out.’ Little did I know the extent of their father wounds. They were just good posers. I guess most men get adept at disguising the fact that they don’t know what the heck they’re doing.

Lucky for me, a couple of men, both still alive, came around me and fathered me in the word of God and in the actions of the Christian faith. I began to pick up on the fact that I could do a better job at paying bills and taking care of my family. “But if anyone does not provide for his own, and especially for those of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.” 1 Timothy 5:8 My spiritual dad had pointed that one out on more than one occasion!!

That was a rough lesson… and a long one with all my sincerest apologies to my family.

Ironically, through all these adulthood missteps and through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, I got one thing right: I realized that God was being patient with me as I made my way and I learned how to father the way He fathered me.*   It was the most natural of impersonations [bad choice of words for imitating the Godhead 🙂  ].

So, I began to know instinctively how to handle my children. I simply did for them and to them what my Heavenly Father was doing for me. I had my “Father’s eyes.” And if any man alive loved fathering, it was me. Through my kids, many of their friends began to see me as a ‘second dad’ and I can tell you that I loved them like they were my own.

They’re all grown up now plowing their own fields of adulthood. Perhaps a diligent awareness and imitation of the Father Heart of God will help each successive generation produce of crop of healthy future fathers and mothers. May it ever be so. Amen.

Happy Father’s Day to all and especially to the One who can heal every father wound:   “For this reason I bow my knees to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, 15 from whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named, 16 that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with might through His Spirit in the inner man.” Ephesians 3:14-16

* I don’t like to oversimplify this aspect of being fathered directly by God because of the risk that someone in pride might dismiss the weighty part spiritual/biological fathers should play in our lives. Without such men, one could boast that they are fathered directly by God; got a ‘direct link.’ The obvious trouble with that is that we have fleshly souls that could deceive us into something and there would be no earthly person to call us on the carpet.

Below: my spiritual dad, Royal Cutler, 92

holding my biological grandson, Grant.        My biological handsome dad, Paul F. LaCosta, 1906- 1983.

 A clock is a very fitting past Father’s Day gift from my daughters, Guinevere and Angelique, for the fleeting honor of fatherhood. I keep it near me on my desk.

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