father's day: a personal statement of gratitude

For most of my life I experienced Father's Day through the experience of my family of origin.  My parents divorced when I was in the ninth grade.  I was the oldest child.  It was messy.  In hindsight, I imagine they were doing the best they could, at the time. I am in no position to judge.  I remain close to my mother, more distant from my father. 

More recently I have reflected on this day out of my own experience as a father.  We have been blessed with two remarkable daughters who are now young adults: the older one is more intellectual and political, the younger one more social and athletic.  Both are compassionate, both love music, and both are blessed with a small network of very close and loyal friends.  Both express the faith into which they were baptized in their own ways; as you might imagine, this causes me to rejoice.  At the same time, they are not perfect, and neither am I, and we are all good with that.

This week the older daughter wrote an amazing article about women and human rights in China (see Tea Leaf Nation), and the younger daughter spent the week managing a small team of youth who rehabilitated a house for a poor mountain family (for example, there were no doors to the bedrooms).

Occasionally friends will comment about these two daughters who have become young women, and how struck by their uniqueness they are.  Being a parent is work, and it is a neverending process, to be sure.  But much of the good comes as pure grace, for which I really take very little credit.  So the idea of recognition on this day is somewhat unnecessary. 

The gift has already come my way.