I have a love-hate relationship with Father’s Day.

I absolutely love being a father.
I hated being fatherless.

It’s a complicated day, filled with gratitude and grief, celebration and silence. I have two children, one’s a rising college senior, and the other just starting her first year of law school. They are growing into thoughtful, complex, purpose-driven adults. And I couldn’t be prouder.

But a couple of years ago, in a quiet moment of reflection, I did something I hadn’t done before. I asked them a question that had quietly lived in the corners of my mind for years:

“Have I been a good father?”

A Mirror I Didn’t Expect

“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.” - Psalm 139:23 (NIV)

I’ve always felt I was. I showed up. I provided. I did the best I could. Still, I worked a lot, probably too much, as they were becoming young men and women. Yet, I believed I was there when it mattered most.

But in that moment of clarity and vulnerability, I understood something deeper:

They are the ones who get to decide. Not me.

Their answer?

“Absolutely. You’ve been a good dad. You’ve given us so many opportunities, so much exposure. We understood why you worked as hard as you did.”

Their words moved me, more than I expected.
They didn’t just understand my hustle.
They saw the heart behind it.
They saw me.

Why I Worked So Much

“Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.” — Ephesians 6:4 (NIV)

Truth is, part of my drive to provide came from a deeper place, a quiet ache.

I never knew my father.

He wasn’t there to protect me. He wasn’t there to provide. He wasn’t there to shield me from the trauma life throws at children who don’t have that covering. That absence left a deep mark. For much of my life, I thought:

“If I can just be what he wasn’t, maybe my children will be whole in ways I wasn’t.”

Years later, I met the man I had been named after. We took a DNA test.
He wasn’t my father.

Even the story I thought briefly was mine… wasn’t mine.

Fathers in Unexpected Places

“Though my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will receive me.” — Psalm 27:10 (NIV)

Yet, despite the void, fatherhood found me through men who stepped into the gaps along my journey:

• My eighth-grade math teacher disciplined me for acting out in class, and then hugged me, teaching me accountability wrapped in compassion.
• A counselor, recognizing my pain when life felt unbearable, hugged me and spoke life into my heart, reassuring me my existence mattered.
• My house parent at Annie Malone, later moving to the YMCA, kept me off the streets, always opening the doors so I could play basketball and find refuge in a safe space.
• A law professor at Mizzou modeled Black male excellence, teaching me that greatness was not just a dream—it was attainable.
• Countless men throughout my career encouraged me to stay focused, ignore naysayers, and spoke words of encouragement and vision over my life. They didn’t just mentor, they actively sponsored and guided me into rooms I couldn’t have entered on my own.These men didn’t have to step into my life, but they did.
  

Their intentional presence taught me a powerful lesson:

Fatherhood is more than biology. It’s choosing to be there, even imperfectly, when it matters most.

The Full-Circle Moment

“Children’s children are a crown to the aged, and parents are the pride of their children.” —Proverbs 17:6 (NIV)

There’s no greater joy I’ve experienced than the moment each of my children came into the world. No title, accolade, or career milestone even comes close.

And now, they’re calling me, not just for money, but for advice. For health updates. To check on me.

My son recently said, “Dad, you’ve got to stay healthy. I still have so much to learn from you.”

That’s when it hit me: The boy who grew up fatherless became the father whose presence still matters.

A Father’s Day Reflection

“Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.” —Proverbs 22:6 (ESV)

Father’s Day will always be a mix of joy and ache for me.
But if you’re reading this as a father, here’s what I want you to hear:

• Your presence matters more than your perfection.
• You are allowed to ask the hard questions.
• And yes, you can rewrite the story.
  

Today, alongside celebrating fathers, I honor the men who fathered me in ways I deeply needed.'

They taught me how to become the father I longed for and now strive to be.

Take a moment today to honor those who’ve stepped into your life, fathering you through wisdom, compassion, and presence.
Their legacy, like yours, echoes across generations.

I look upon both of my children with deep gratitude.
They are not just my legacy, they are my mirror and my miracle.

This Father’s Day, I’m not just celebrating being a dad.

I’m honoring the boy who longed for one, and the man who stepped into that space with all he had to give.

And that… that is enough.

Reflection Prompt for the Week:

Who stepped into the gap for you when you needed it most?

And who might God be calling you to father, not through title, but through presence?