Where Have All the Fathers Gone?

Before I get into this particular post I want to note a few housekeeping issues.

1. I have not posted on the remembermongolia.org blog in a LONG time. I have some lame excuses. Busy with work and ministry. Completing my Masters dissertation (the completion of which brings me indescribable happiness and joy). It's cold in Mongolia. The Holidays (been preparing since August, you know. Not really). In any case this post is the breaking of a long silence, that I hope will not ever be quite so long in the future.
2. I intend to upgrade this Website from Squarespace 5 to Squarespace 6 while we're in the US over the Holidays, as fiddling with web design is a great thing to do while awake at 3:00 AM trying to overcome jetlag. This will mean a couple of things. Possible "look and feel" changes to the site. It may also mean possible downtime. Not that this will ruin anyone's day. But DO check back.
3. After the upgrade, and the holidays, I am committed to working on more consistent content. I haven't decided what I will be committing to, yet. But, in the process of finishing a dissertation, I've found that the creation of habits and routines to be one of the MOST powerful tools for productivity that I've come across. So, I'd like to make the habitual addition of content to this website as a means for more writing and and photography in my life. If anyone likes it and wants to follow, great. If not ... well that's fine to. Always your choice.

So there you have it ... housekeeping in order ... on to the post that I've felt the need to write for about two weeks now.

Last week I was meeting with a Mongolian pastor friend of mine. We were talking about some rather serious issues which he is facing in his church right now (the details of which I will not go into here ... but please pray for them). In the course of the discussion and trying to get to the heart of the difficult issues, we both reached an agreement.

Mongolia lacks fathers.

One young man saw his father commit suicide when he was a teenager. Another has a dad he never sees and rarely talks to because the "old man" stays drunk most of the time. Yet, another was disowned by his father as a young man. Another's parents (both father and mother) left the country when he was two years old and he hasn't seen him since. Most of the young girls who work with us at the Grain of Wheat Center have fathers who are either dead or dead drunk. I'm not making any of this up. These are all real scenarios of real kids who frequent the Grain of wheat. Most don't know a real dad. This is the story of almost every Mongolian young person I know.

So where have all the father's gone?

It's a heartbreaking condition, really. In the past I've simply wept with them, not really knowing what I could do.

Until this week.

One of these young men told me: "You have been like a father to me. Thank you."

His statement gave me pause. It actually made me think about our ministry with students in completely different terms.

I've always enjoyed being a dad. I love my kids. I miss them tremendously and am most excited to see them in less than a week from the time I am writing this post. I've never really thought of myself as a "great" dad, but what dad does? Growing older has brought some new bridges to cross with my children, especially with them being so very far away. The work of fatherhood is never finished, it just evolves.

That said, I've never thought of myself as a "father figure". In fact, I've always kind of felt repulsed by that. I don't want to be an old guy, really. I like to at least give the false impression that I'm still young and able to do everything I could 20 years ago. This is false, indeed. In working with Mongolian young people and reading an excellent and interesting book with a cheesy title by Richard Rohr on male spirituality (it's called From Wild Man to Wise Man: Reflections on Male Spirituality ... like I said, cheesy title. Good read.), I see this very real universal "deep need for masculine approval." I do believe there are no exceptions. Men and women. Young and old. Perhaps most especially young men. I see it my own life. One of my happiest memories as a new father was when my father said he was proud of me. I needed that. I still need that. All children need that. Dad's approval. If there is no dad, then I do believe it will be sought out elsewhere. I have found this need to be no less real among our Mongolian students ... and in fact, I see the father-hunger here to be deep and potent in Mongolian kid's lives.

I still don't think of myself as a "father-figure". That sounds almost pretentious to me. However, when I have the opportunity to lovingly speak truth into the lives of young people; when I can accept them in the middle of their mistakes and sins; when I can give a hug or an approving hand on the shouler or a smile and an extra-loud applause after an open-mic night performance; when I can sit down with a few of them and talk through the application of words from our mutual Father - it's then that I know why I am here, and why this work is so important. And if that means being called "dad" by a young person who has no one else to call by that honorable and holy title ... I'm actually okay with that.

Pray for these kids. They are the future and hope of the Mongolian church and the next generation of Mongolian families. Especially pray that the young men will rise up and that there will be a new wave of Mongolian fathers for generations to come.

Comments

[Joel S]

Glad to see the update and hear your fathers heart . . . will pray accordingly for your "fatherless" friends there.