On Fatherhood

I wonder if Noah ever knelt beside a creaky crib he built, whispering prayers for strength and safety as the world around him grew increasingly dark.

I wonder if Abram was awake for every midnight feeding as Sarai rocked little Isaac back to sleep, their aging bodies weary and tired, but gratitude flooding their hearts.

I wonder if Jacob’s hands trembled as he stitched together Joseph’s colorful robe with a child-like excitement to watch Joseph open his gift.

I wonder if Jesse ever wiped crumbs from the table or stayed up late making sandals for growing sons, tracing their little feet and teaching them how to tend the lambs.

I wonder if Zechariah lost track of time while pacing the temple courtyard with baby John in his arms, his once-silent lips now humming lullabies of praise.

I wonder if Joseph fumbled with the swaddle as he tried to wrap the newborn Messiah, both overwhelmed and unsure how to father the Son of God and wondering who would teach him how to be a dad.

I wonder if the prodigal son’s father watched the road for his lost child, remembering the countless times his boy played on that very driveway.

To the dads stepping into this fatherhood story, embracing the holy ache of giving yourself away, one bedtime story and diaper change at a time, clinging to Jesus every step of the way

To all the dads embracing the sacred ordinary: your quiet faithfulness echoes through eternity. Happy Father’s Day.