“Our Father”: A Father's Day Reflection on God, Community & Becoming

June is only halfway through, but already, it’s felt like a full season’s worth of reflections on fatherhood. Not just in the traditional, paternal sense — but in the spiritual, emotional, and communal dimensions too.

This year, I’ve found myself meditating on the phrase:

Fatherhood is a hood. A community. A covering.

🧠 Rediscovering God as “Our Father”

In a Bible study recently, we focused on just two words from the Lord’s Prayer:

“Our Father.”

It might seem simple — even obvious — but it struck me deeply.

As someone raised as an only child, I’ve often seen life through an individual lens. I never had to share the last chocolate, or figure out how to split time and space with siblings. My default has always been “mine.”

But Jesus didn’t say “My Father.” He said “Our Father.”

This changes everything.

It means the moment I come to God in prayer, I don’t come alone — I bring my community with me. It means I speak to a Father who not only knows me individually, but embraces us collectively — my brothers, sisters, neighbours, and the people I’ve yet to meet. And His love is deep enough to stretch across them all.

It also reminded me: God is not just seated far away in heaven, but His throne is higher than heaven, and yet He’s close enough to sit at the edge of my desk, walk with me in silence, and be present when I speak without words.

(Isaiah 66:1 says, “Heaven is My throne, and the earth is My footstool…”) — so if heaven is His seat, there is nothing I bring to Him that is too high, too low, too wide, too complex for His power or love.

👨🏾‍🦱 Fatherhood Beyond the Family Photo

I recently had the honour of helping cover a Fatherhood Workshop at my church. I’d never heard of such a thing before — a space where fathers (and men preparing to become fathers) gathered to learn, be vulnerable, and support one another. It was beautiful.

There were men in all stages:
— Some were new dads, still basking in the “honeymoon” phase of sleepless nights and baby cuddles.
— Some were co-parenting from outside the home.
— Some were expecting their first child and had come just to listen.

One thing they all shared? A desire to be present — to do better, love harder, and be the kind of fathers their children could be proud of.

The fact that these men would willingly step into a space of community, accountability, and honesty felt like such a rare and holy thing. And it made me realise something:

We talk about motherhood a lot.
And rightly so. But there’s still a quiet gap when it comes to the emotional and spiritual support of fathers. We honour mums — but sometimes forget that men need spaces of tenderness too. Places to be unmasked, mentored, and met where they are. This workshop was that.

And it filled me with so much hope.

🌿 Healing My Own Father Lens

There was a time in my life when Father’s Day came with a knot in my stomach. It felt like something I had to endure — a reminder of what felt lost or missing.

But in recent years, God has been gently healing that view.

He’s surrounded me with men I’ve watched journey from singleness → to marriage → to fatherhood. I’ve seen how children seem to stitch themselves seamlessly into the lives of these adults — and how God weaves joy, purpose, and fresh identity into each man as he grows into the role.

What used to fill me with uncertainty about the future now fills me with expectation.
Not fear — joy.The Disconnection Between Rhythm and Reality

For me, recent times haven’t looked like burnout. It looked like disinterest. Disengagement. Detachment.

It was skipping meals, not out of discipline, but out of disconnection. It was being in the sun and still not reaching for the light. It was looking at my salad and forgetting that I made it with joy. It was hearing a worship song and feeling… nothing.

And that’s when I realised: this isn’t just a physical appetite loss. It’s spiritual. Emotional. Rhythmic. It’s what happens when your body keeps performing, but your spirit stops responding.

🙏🏾 To the Dads, and the God Who Fathers Us All

So this Father’s Day, I just want to say:

God, You are such a wonderful Dad.
You teach us how to love before we’re even ready to be loved.
You parent us with patience and presence.
You remind us that being a father — or receiving fatherhood — is a process of becoming. A process rooted in grace.

To every man leaning into the call of fatherhood — in whatever shape or season it may come, thank you.
And to the Father of us all: we honour You.
Today, and always.