Donald Miller, author of a wonderful book, Blue Like Jazz, has just released a thoughtful new book called To Own A Dragon. In it he reflects on the meaning of fatherhood.

Miller tells the story of John MacMurray, a godly man who was a part-time school teacher, Bible teacher and nature photographer in a tiny Oregon town.  MacMurray invited Miller, then a college-age wanderer, to live in their garage apartment, and over a four-year period MacMurray discipled Miller in the things of the Lord, and in the process became a father-figure to him.

Miller was able to learn the obvious but important truth that being a father is, "diapers and lawnmowers, decks that need painting, a wife that needs to be listened to, kids that need to be taught right from wrong, a checkbook, an oil change, a sunset behind a mountain, laughter at a kitchen table, too much wine, a chipped tooth, and a screaming child."

He said, "The lessons I learned in the four years I spent with John and Terri will stay with me forever."

I'm pleased that Donald Miller learned these lessons, that they will stick with him, and that he is able to convey these ideas to others in his writing. Young men and women have very diverse ideas about marriage and parenthood, and most of them are flawed as evidenced by a high divorce rate that is nearly the same percentage whether couples are Christians or not.

The Ending Is Not Always Happy

Miller's portrayal of fatherhood leaves us with a rosy glow. He did not have a relationship with his own father, but his surrogate relationship with John MacMurray fulfilled him.  I'm happy for Miller, but I realize that there are many of us who had terrible relationships with our fathers, and no one came along to fill the gap. There is no rosy glow to our Father's Day story.

My own father died last year, so I have had time to reflect on his meaning to my life. Not that I didn't think about him while he was still alive, but he was a toxic personality, and it was better to maintain physical and emotional distance. For example, at 66 he married one of my childhood girlfriends (she was 26 years his junior) just a couple months after my mother's lingering death from cancer; he had been seeing the young woman for some time, and he didn't care who knew it.

My father had always been a womanizer and he fathered an illegitimate son when I was about ten. He was money-driven, and looking back, I cannot think of anything he did that was not dictated by the bottom line.  He was secretive about everything, and so feared that someone would take his loot that he buried large sums of money in boxes on his property.

I was in my twenties when I began to realize how damaged my father was. On the outside he appeared to be a successful businessman, but from the inside he seemed to be dancing to a tune played on the devil's flute. 

Some people looked down on me when I began distancing myself from him. However, I wanted to serve God, and I knew that my father's values were not God's values, and I had to do my best to overcome my father's subliminal indoctrination in order to walk with the Lord.  That became my toughest mission in life.

Astonishing News

After his death, relatives came out of the woodwork with some rather astonishing news. They reported that the only father I had known was not my biological father. The reality has not been proven by DNA tests, nor is it ever likely to be.  But pieces began to fall into place; his lifelong resentment toward me, his constant criticism and belittling, his inability to express pride in my accomplishments, his favoritism toward my older brother (with whom I now have a wonderful relationship), and not the least of things, the reason for his abuse of my mother.

I know you are thinking that our family stood out as being freakish in the neighborhood. However, just the opposite was true. We lived in nice homes over the years, my parents drove late model cars, and Mom was active in the PTA and other community activities.  To outsiders we seemed just like the Cleaver family in the then current TV series, "Leave it to Beaver," and I took some gentle ribbing from friends about that. 

Was there any hope that I could develop a relationship with my alleged biological father after I learned about him? It turned out that he was a felon who had murdered a woman some years after he was released from prison. Rather than risk prison again, he committed suicide. No hope for a father-figure there.

In God's great plan, I never found a father-figure like Donald Miller did. I made an attempt as a young adult to bond with a Christian man I admired, an educator. Sadly, he had  an emotionally troubled wife who alienated many, including her own son, so his family was not spiritually whole either. Although the man and I were close for many years, he was not the father-figure I yearned for.

One of the main reasons I wanted a wholesome, godly father-figure in my life is because I wanted  to learn how to be a good dad to my own children. I wanted to break the chains of my own disrupted childhood and be an exceptional dad. Sadly, I never was able to become the father I wanted to be.  What children learn from their fathers, either good or bad, is not easily reversed. I had high Christian ideals, I just never had the skills modeled for me, and I often unwittingly fell back on my own father's misanthropic methods.

Some of you may think I am airing too much dirty family laundry here. But many of you will identify with my experience; you were fatherless even though you had a dad.  Like me, you sought a father-figure all your life, but you never succeeded. In your own soul, you always felt like an orphan.

A Good Report

This Father's Day, I want to bring you a report from the lingering edge of childhood pain. The report is this: Earthly fathers tend to disappoint in one way or another, no matter how good or bad they may be.  However, you can depend on your heavenly Father to nourish you in all the right ways all the days of your life.

I hope you find that good news to be liberating and exhilarating.

We evangelicals perpetuate an old myth that people need good fathers so they can understand the fatherhood of God.  The theory is that the better your father was, the better concept of God you will have.  That is total rubbish.  You can develop a wonderful relationship with your heavenly Father simply by meeting Him in the pages of the Bible, and walking and talking with Him in the cool of a summer evening.

You see, being a good father is not a biological or sociological thing, it's a spiritual thing. Jesus made that point clear in Matthew 12:48. He asked, "Who are my relatives?" He answered His own rhetorical question by saying, "It is whoever does the will of my Father in heaven."

In times of crisis, Jesus did not mourn the loss of His own earthly father, nor did he seek a father-figure. Jesus knew where to go to get the love, wisdom and direction He needed, and that was to His heavenly Father.
 

The Most Important Part of the Passage

Donald Miller said, "I read a passage in the Bible a long time ago that said, '"God sets the lonely in families"'  and that came as a blessing to him. But there are many of us who were disconnected from our fathers, and, for varying reasons, will never be able to reconnect with them, or with father-figures, as Miller had the luxury of doing when he encountered John MacMurray.
  
Miller says he does not believe God was meant to replace our earthly father. My only reply is that Miller is young, and he still has much to learn. For many of us, our heavenly Father is the only real dad we'll ever have.
 
So, if you feel like an orphan this Father's Day, I'd encourage you to do what Jesus did, and that is - look upward. Our heavenly Father wants to enfold us in His arms regardless of our age. He wants to impart His strength and love to us. He wants to wipe away our tears of trauma and bring joy to our childlike hearts. Psalm 68:5 can bring Father's Day peace to all our souls. It reminds us of the proper order of things: "Father to the fatherless, defender of widows-- this is God, whose dwelling is holy."