The man in this photo is my Dad. He is resting on the edge of one of the largest mountains on the East Coast after hiking up the entire path. And as he sits, he is praying and most likely reflecting on the next piece of advice to give to his crazy children. It’s a pretty epic picture and one that reflects a large part of who my Dad is as a man and as a Father.
I remember when I was in high school- a turbulent, unsteady time, when you are trying to define yourself amongst so many other teenagers who seem to only care about who to impress to be cool. We were attending morning mass and I was kneeling down, supposedly praying but most likely analyzing the various shoe types of those passing by my pew. I would become distracted by trying to guess the person based on the shoe, letting my mind wander from prayer. One moment jumped to the next and I recall an abrupt prompting from the Holy Spirit to refocus on prayer. As I refocused my mind on Christ, I remember a desire welling up inside of me as I thought to myself, “I want to be the absolute best version of myself that I can be.” It was a sudden, inspired thought, totally out of nowhere, and for me, as a high school freshman, it was poignant moment. At a time when being cool meant not really caring about anything, this new, determined feeling stood out to me, coming from a yet undiscovered spirit within. I made a personal promise to seek excellence in everything I did and this moment has stuck with me since then, all the way up until now.
Looking back on this in perspective of my upbringing, I see my father in that desire. He inspired it, nourished it, and grew it within me as he continues to water it now. And the best part of it all is that while he has given me this beautiful gift, he expects nothing in return, holding to no expectation of perfection.
Human love is never perfect, but we need it, badly. We need someone to love us through our own faults, but through their own as well. This exchange of our weak selves binds us together as a human family, each offering to the other what he might lack in order to create a substantial whole. My Dad has done just this – loving me to the heights despite the holes in his own walking shoes and lifting me up through his love to see the glorious mountain view.
My parents tell me that after my birth, little baby Grace, in the arms of her adoring Daddy, proceeded to scrunch up her face and stick out her little newborn tongue at her Father, a story I always smile at. My dad probably doesn’t know how much I remember every lecture he gives me, or how his words touch me because I am stubborn and proud and stick out my tongue at words of advice (so to speak). But this never stops him from pulling me up the mountain even more vigorously than before, clamoring for me to look at the breathtaking view while I stare at the rocky path, huffing and puffing from exhaustion rather than losing my breath from wonder and delight at the thrill of climbing higher.
My dad’s determination to bring everyone and anyone he encounters closer to the heights of heaven will forever inspire me to never lose hope in Christ. With the guidance of His Holy Spirit, we can reach incredible heights, and magnify the view of a life seen through the lens of a faith that moves mountains.
How this post may affect you is an uncontrollable circumstance, but my hope is to give witness to the gift of fatherhood in a man who daily exemplifies to me the power of imperfect, human love, love which steadily strives to the heights despite the uncontrollable weather of human failure. His fatherhood bears the mark of an endless striving to love ever deeper, combined with an inspiring acceptance of his own weakness and urged by an imperishable spirit of love. He is a father who carries his baby girl on his shoulders to show her the beauty of the skies above her head, where her heart is destined to go.
