But Right Now: A Lament for Fatherhood

As I stood in church and listened to the words of that popular worship song, I tried not to roll my eyes. One specifically frustrating line went, “You’re never going to let me down.” That couldn’t be further from the truth, I thought, not where I was today. Instead of singing it, I stood there wondering, is it possible for God to let someone down?

I’ll be the first to admit, my understanding of God is limited by a finite mind. There are so many times when I fail to grasp the comforting notion of his sovereignty over my life, because sometimes my faith begins to wane.

My wife and I are exhausted from a long journey with infertility. We’re thirteen years in and counting. The highs and lows, private battles, and boiling frustrations we’ve experienced have taken a toll, both individually and in our marriage. We’ve been praying for a miracle and believing God would show us favor by helping us conceive a child. We continue to hold onto a glimmer of hope that we will still have biological children. Everything within me wants to be a father and see my wife as the mother of my children.

What do we do with this feeling of abandonment and disappointment? Can a good God let his children down and still be a loving God? Is it always “for the best” and meant to be? Sunday school answers frustrate me more than anything. I just keep coming back to the question of “where do we go from here?”

But our experience, our missed miraculous moment, and the subsequent feeling that God didn’t show up still doesn’t erase a lifetime of him being with us, does it? I think of my father and the countless times he’s been there for me. Through ups and downs, I honestly don’t remember a time in my thirty-six years of life when he hasn’t been there for me. Even if there was a time when he let me down, would it erase all the moments when he showed his love and care for me? Would one act erase a lifetime of love? Absolutely not. But the heartache and disappointment can surely linger.

I’m going to wrap up this letter of lament in an unorthodox way. I don’t have some God-given revelation that is going to blow you away or change your heart-aches. I don’t have the answers you may be looking for, because I’m still waiting for mine. I’m not out of the fire yet. I’m simply saying that I’m struggling with doubt, anger, and the feeling of abandonment from an all-loving God. I will be a better man for it, I know. I know scripture is filled with stories of wilderness seasons for believers, and I’m hopeful mine is coming to an end soon. God’s going to carry me through this, I’m sure of that, but it is really hard right now.

Read more of But Right Now: A Lament for Fatherhood by Justin Skinner in Kinsmen Journal Volume 1 — Purchase here.

Justin Skinner

Justin is an entrepreneur and lover of learning. His wife Kendra and their dog Daisy currently reside in Springfield, Missouri. Justin is the author of the book Professional Failure. He enjoys pickleball, board games, staying active, and learning anything new.

https://www.professional-failure.com/
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Redeeming Fatherhood

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My Ordinary Hero