There it was, in the subject line of a promotional email from the photo company we’d used to print Lilly’s senior pictures: “Don’t forget about dad.”

The timing made sense, given that Father’s Day was less than two weeks away. But when I read it, I couldn’t escape the irony.

Of course the message wasn’t directed at me specifically. It’s been a year since my dad died. This will be our second Father’s Day without him, although just barely.

Still, I couldn’t help but take it a little bit personally.

I was already feeling the weight of the world that day—sadness like I hadn’t experienced in a long while, an overwhelming ache for one more conversation with the man who always made me feel better, just by being there.

Forget about dad? I couldn’t even if I tried.

Girls need their dads. It was true in my own life. I see it being played out again with my husband and daughters.

Boys too, just as much (though perhaps in different ways).

My oldest brother expressed it well when we were putting together my dad’s obituary: “I will be eternally grateful to have had him for a father,” he wrote.

What a blessing to be able to express that about the man who raised you and then grew into a dear friend over the course of your adult life. I know not everyone is able to say this, and my heart aches for those that cannot.

My limited understanding of the fatherhood of God has always been a spiritual anchor in my life, probably because of my earthly father’s example and influence. Since his death, I’ve been busy with estate duties and working through grief and tending to my own family, so I haven’t spent a lot of time contemplating God’s role as my heavenly Father in this new, parentless season of my life.

Now, though, those responsibilities are wrapped up—save finding one missing safe-deposit box key (or paying $20 for a replacement). After that, all that remains are my dad’s writings—a collection of children’s stories, Bible study notes, thoughts about all sorts of things scratched out in miscellaneous notebooks—for me to go through, one page at a time.

I’m looking forward to this process. It will help me stay close to him, I think. It will enable me to keep learning from him, and about him.

In a way, I have this same opportunity with my heavenly Father. We all do, actually. We don’t have His thoughts and stories in boxes in our basements, but within the pages of scripture, we have all that we need to learn from Him, and about Him.

What this should look like—what it will look like for me in the coming years—remains to be seen. God isn’t a substitute or replacement for my human father, but certainly, the older I get, the more I hope to depend on Him for comfort, wisdom and stability, much like I depended on my dad over the years.

Unlike my dad, however, God is all-sufficient. He truly is all I need, and I hope to spend the rest of my life to learning to live like I believe it.”

♥ Lois

This post is part of a collection called Help for Parent Loss. To read more, please click here.