A Father’s Day Reflection: Lifting Them Higher

Father’s Day always makes me pause. Not to celebrate myself, but to reflect - on the sacred privilege of fatherhood, and on the greater calling behind it.

This morning, I read a passage that brought this all into sharper focus:

“Then it was time for their purification offering, as required by the law of Moses after the birth of a child; so his parents took him to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord… There, an old man named Simeon was waiting. He took the child in his arms and praised God…”
— Luke 2:22, 28 (NLT)

On the 40th day of Jesus’s life, Mary and Joseph brought Him to the temple to dedicate Him to God. Simeon, a man of deep faith, had been waiting for this moment. And when he saw the child, he lifted Him up and praised God.

That image - of Simeon holding the infant Christ, tiny fists balled up, wrapped in fleece - moved me. It wasn’t just a religious rite. It was surrender. Worship. A man holding up what was most precious and trusting God with it.

That, I think, is the essence of fatherhood.

From the moment each of my children came into the world, I’ve known deep down: they don’t ultimately belong to me. They belong to the Lord. My job - my joy - has been to lift them higher. First in my arms. Then with encouragement, belief, guidance. And now, by pointing them not to myself, but to their identity in Christ.

We see this rhythm in our faith: in Communion, we lift bread and cup. In Baptism, we lift a life from water. In worship, we lift our voices, our hands, our hearts.

Fatherhood, too, is about lifting.

But the lifting doesn’t end when they grow taller than you. In many ways, that’s when it truly begins—when you step back and pray that what you’ve committed to the Lord, He will keep.

This Father’s Day, my heart isn’t drawn to accomplishments or legacy. It’s drawn to the gospel. To the daily practice of surrender. To the reality that each of us—fathers, mothers, sons, daughters—must learn to lift ourselves to God in faith, and lay ourselves down in trust.

Because if we don’t, life will define our relationship with God. Our failures. Our successes. Our wounds. But when Christ defines it—when His finished work is our foundation—we are anchored.

So today, I reflect with gratitude: I have lifted my children in faith and in love. And I believe with all my heart that God has received them.

That’s what Father’s Day means to me.

Interfaith Parallels: A Shared Call to Dedicate and Surrender

This instinct to dedicate our children to God—and to lift them in faith—isn’t just a Christian concept. It echoes beautifully across all three Abrahamic faiths.

In Judaism, the Pidyon HaBen (“Redemption of the Firstborn”) honors God’s claim over every life. The ceremony symbolizes that children belong to God, not just to their parents. Abraham’s willingness to offer Isaac (the Akeidah) stands as a profound expression of trust. Fathers are also charged to “teach them diligently to your children” (Deut. 6:7), a daily act of lifting their hearts toward God.

In Islam, the Aqiqah ceremony dedicates a newborn to Allah through naming, sacrifice, and charity—a recognition that the child is a divine trust. The story of Ibrahim and Ismail, commemorated in Eid al-Adha, reflects a similar act of faithful surrender and obedience. The father lifts up his son—not in possession, but in worship.

Across these traditions, we see the same sacred rhythm:

A father receives a child from God,
raises the child in love,
and offers that child back in faith.

That’s the heart of it.

We are stewards, not owners. And our greatest legacy isn’t what we build—but who we lift.

Happy Father’s Day.