In Honor of Two Fathers

By Charissa Toeller

I have two dads.

They've both been part of my life from the very beginning, but one I got to know earlier, and the other, I've known for quite a bit longer.

Mark could pick my cry out amongst all the other newborns in the hospital nursery. (Or so he claimed.) He was proud of me--so proud, in fact, that he even took me to a board meeting with him when I was only three years old. I can't fathom attempting to do that with any of my own kids, but three-year-old me was pretty good with "inside voices", if I do say so myself, and legend has it that I played quietly while the adults conducted their meeting.

As I got older, Mark sometimes let me take a turn in the front seat on family road trips. He'd ask me questions to make me think, and he helped shape a vision for a future I'm living to this day. He noticed my interests and the talents that came naturally, and he also saw skills that needed to be prodded and honed if I was going to be capable and brave enough to pursue that future.

Mark was a great dad. But he wasn't perfect.

One time, in my early adulthood, I remember meeting him for coffee and trying to tell him a story, only to realize Mark hadn't heard a word I'd said! He was too focused on my weeks-old son--his first grandchild. I clearly wasn't the center of his universe anymore, but I guessed sharing him with my own child really wasn't so bad. And then, just weeks before that child's first birthday, Mark was gone.

And for a moment, I felt like I'd lost two dads instead of just one.

My second dad is the one we often refer to as "Our Father in Heaven." This second Dad had never felt quite as close to me as Mark did…and the day Mark died, He never felt farther. It didn't feel like this Dad cared--He sure didn't stop Mark from leaving. Mark had shown up for me over and over again in ways I could see, hear, and feel. He showed up until his body no longer allowed him to! I literally walked through "the valley of the shadow of death" with Mark, and instead of fearing no evil, I've never been so afraid in my life.

In a strange twist, Mark left me with one last gift: a stubbornly secure faith in my second Dad. Even in shock and grief and questioning, when both fathers suddenly felt absent, I knew one hadn't gone anywhere.

I'd love to tell you that there is a moment coming in the story where things turned around, and my emotional confidence in my heavenly Father caught up with my intellectual confidence in Him, but that's not how it worked. Instead, my Dad met me where I could process: Mark's legacy. See, as much as I liked to think of myself as the center of Mark's universe, I wasn't. His Father had begun occupying that spot years before my birth. His Father had given Mark gifts and talents all about making sure as many people as possible knew they also had a Father in Heaven.

I was one of those people--granted, a very important one to Mark--but just one of many, all the same. Mark was known for meeting people at McDonald's and illustrating the gospel with a pen on a napkin. There was never a question in my mind about what Mark's life was about.

It was unthinkable to realize that God had a plan that involved removing such a key player from the game before his 55th birthday. But I remember like it was yesterday, realizing that God's Kingdom isn't about addition; it's about multiplication. Mark wasn't there for addition; he was there to be part of exponential growth. So are the people who might still be hanging onto one of those McDonald's-gospel napkins to this day. So are the people who have had gospel seeds planted in them by the ones whose own seeds were planted by Mark. So are my brother and I, as we've planted seeds in Mark's grandchildren.

Hang on…this is supposed to focus on my other Father. You see what I mean, though, right?--My other Father has a lot to live up to. Only…He was the one who brought a "Mark" into the world and gave him the gifts and talents that made Mark the dad he was. Mark was a good father--because he always wanted to be more like his Dad.

And so do I.

Thanks, Dad(s). Happy Father's Day.

Scripture that shaped this piece:

Romans 8:15

The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.”

Ephesians 5:1

"Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children  and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God."

1 Corinthians 13:12

For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.