Dear Luke, Jacob, and Alex,
There is something difficult I want to write about today. I have hesitated to write about it because the last thing I ever want to do is put you in the middle of problems between adults. You are my sons, and you should be allowed to love both of your parents without feeling guilty about it, without feeling pressured to choose sides, and without believing that loving one parent somehow means betraying the other.
There is a term called parental alienation, which is sometimes used to describe circumstances in which distance develops between a child and a parent and their relationship becomes damaged or lost. Whatever terminology someone chooses to use, I believe all of you should be protected as much as possible from adult conflicts. You shouldn’t be asked to carry resentment that belongs to adults, decide who was right or wrong, or feel responsible for repairing what happened between your parents.
That is something I especially want you boys to understand about our family.
Children Should Never Have to Choose
The Bible says, “Honor your father and your mother” (Exodus 20:12). God didn’t design children to become referees in their parents’ conflicts. You shouldn’t have to determine which parent wins an argument, defend one parent against the other, or feel guilty for loving your mom or loving your dad.
Parents have responsibilities, too. Ephesians 6:4 says, “Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.” That verse challenges me because I know I haven’t always gotten fatherhood right. There are things I would change if I could go back, and I have had a lot of time to reflect upon those things. I don’t want to write these letters pretending your dad was perfect. I wasn’t. But I also want you to understand that nothing that has happened has changed how much I love you or how important being your father is to me.
What Has Happened to Us
There are many details surrounding what happened to our family that I am intentionally not going to discuss here. Some things belong in conversations between adults, some belong in the legal process, and some may be conversations we have together when the time is right.
What I can tell you is that I have now been separated from you for more than a year. I have missed birthdays, holidays, ordinary evenings, conversations, laughter, school events, and countless little moments that I wish I could have experienced with you. That hurts, but I don’t want that hurt to become something you have to carry.
There may someday be questions about why all of this happened. You may hear different perspectives. You may learn things about our family’s story from different people. You may even someday disagree with me about parts of it. You are allowed to do that. What I hope you will always do is seek truth.
Proverbs 18:17 says, “The one who states his case first seems right, until the other comes and examines him.” That’s an important principle for life, not just for our family. Listen carefully. Ask questions. Seek facts. Pray for wisdom. Don’t automatically accept something simply because someone you trust said it, including me.
Most importantly, you don’t have to become judges of your parents. You are our sons.
Why I Haven’t Been Able to See You
There is another part of this that I want you to understand because I never want you to interpret my absence as abandonment. There is currently a court order preventing me from having contact with you for 4 years. I disagree with aspects of what has happened and with the length of our separation, and I am pursuing the lawful options available to me to try to change our circumstances.
But while that order remains in place, I intend to obey it. There are legal matters surrounding our family’s situation about which I have strong feelings and disagreements. This letter isn’t the place for me to argue those matters, and you shouldn’t be placed in a position where you feel you have to decide whether your dad, your mom, the court, or anyone else was right.
There may come an appropriate time for those conversations. For now, there is only one thing I desperately want you to understand: I didn’t disappear from your lives because I stopped wanting to be your dad. I didn’t choose four years away from you. I haven’t forgotten you, and I haven’t stopped hoping that circumstances will change.
I am continuing to pursue the lawful opportunities available to me because I want to have a relationship with you again. Until then, I will respect the restrictions that are in place.
Fatherhood Is Bigger Than Distance
Part of what makes this separation so difficult for me is that fatherhood isn’t merely a title. I believe being your father is a calling God gave me. Psalm 127:3 says, “Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward.”
God gave me three sons: Luke, Jacob, and Alex.
Our present circumstances determine what I am permitted to do right now, but circumstances cannot determine whether I love you. Distance cannot erase our memories. Time cannot stop me from praying for you. And nothing can eliminate my desire to someday have a healthy relationship with each of you again.
My Christian faith is central to how I understand fatherhood. Scripture calls a father to love, sacrifice, forgive, demonstrate patience, teach truth, and point his children toward Christ. That is the kind of father I desire to be.
Micah 6:8 says, “He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” Those three things, justice, kindness, and humility are principles I want to remember throughout all of this. I can pursue what I believe is right without teaching you hatred. I can disagree with decisions that have been made without asking you to take my side. And I can hope for a restored relationship with you without asking you to reject anyone else.
About Your Mom, Me, and Divorce
There is another difficult reality I want to acknowledge. Your mom and I have been separated for a long time, and despite my hopes that our marriage could be restored, that has not happened. I have prayed about our marriage. I have hoped for reconciliation and wanted opportunities to work through what happened. At this point, however, divorce appears to be where our marriage is heading, and boys, that really sucks. I don’t have a prettier way to say it.
This isn’t how I imagined our family. It isn’t what I wanted for you, your mom, or myself. But sometimes adults reach circumstances that their children cannot solve and should never be expected to solve.
That’s why there is something I need all three of you to hear clearly: none of this is your fault. The separation isn’t your fault. The conflict between adults isn’t your fault. A divorce isn’t your fault. And the distance between your dad and you isn’t your fault.
Those burdens do not belong on your shoulders.
Let the Children Come
There’s something beautiful about the way Jesus treated children. When people brought children to Him and others tried to stop them, Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 19:14).
I love the heart of Jesus in those words: Let them come.
Children should be loved, protected, taught truth, and kept as free as possible from the battles of adults. You should be free to love your mom and free to love your dad. You should be free to remember good things about both of us. You should be free to ask questions. You should be free to seek truth. And someday, if circumstances allow it, you should be free to rebuild relationships without feeling that doing so betrays someone else.
When our divorce is final, I never want you thinking, Maybe if I had done something differently, Mom and Dad would still be together.
No. This is not yours to carry.
Guard Your Hearts Against Bitterness
There may come a day when you look back at everything that happened and feel angry. Maybe you’ll be angry with me. Maybe you’ll be angry with your mom. Maybe you’ll be angry with circumstances or decisions that were made. Maybe you’ll simply grieve the years that were lost.
Hebrews 12:15 warns us about allowing a “root of bitterness” to grow. I don’t want bitterness to take root in any of your hearts because bitterness doesn’t give us lost years back. It only has the potential to steal more of them.
I hope there comes a day when we can sit together and talk honestly about everything. You can ask questions, and I can listen. We don’t have to agree about every detail of the past in order to love each other in the future.
More than anything, I hope those conversations can someday happen simply as a father and his sons.
You Never Had to Choose
If you remember nothing else from this letter, boys, remember this: you never had to choose between your mom and your dad.
You are allowed to love your mother, and you are allowed to love your father. I will never ask you to reject your mom in order to have a relationship with me, and I don’t want you to believe that having a relationship with your dad someday means taking somebody’s side.
Jesus said, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God” (Matthew 5:9). Someday, I hope peace comes to our family. That doesn’t necessarily mean everything returns to the way it once was. Some things cannot be undone, and some lost time cannot be recovered. But relationships can be rebuilt. Conversations can happen. Forgiveness can happen. Healing can happen.
My Door Will Always Be Open
Boys, I don’t know when you will read this. Maybe you’ll read it while you’re still young. Maybe you’ll discover it years from now when you’re teenagers, or grown men with families of your own. Whenever that happens, I need you to know something: your dad wanted you.
I wanted to see you. I wanted to talk with you. I wanted to watch you grow up. I wanted to be there for birthdays, Christmas mornings, school events, victories, disappointments, ordinary Saturdays, and all the little moments that make a family a family.
The distance between us was never because I stopped loving you.
Someday, if we get the opportunity to have a relationship again, you can ask me the hard questions. I’ll do my best to answer them honestly. You don’t have to automatically take my side. I want you to seek truth, pray for wisdom, and ultimately form your own understanding of what happened. And if that day comes, you won’t have to explain yourself. You won’t have to apologize for how long it took. You won’t have to prove anything to me, and you won’t have to choose sides.
Just come.
Maybe we’ll start with a phone call. Maybe a meal. Maybe we’ll go fishing. Maybe we’ll simply sit somewhere and talk. Whatever it looks like, we’ll start there. Until then, I will continue loving you, praying for you, following Christ, and pursuing the lawful opportunities available to me to someday be part of your lives again.
Four years of separation cannot make me stop being your dad., and even when your mom and I are no longer husband and wife someday, divorce can end a marriage. It cannot end fatherhood.
I love you, Luke. I love you, Jacob. I love you, Alex.
Always,
Dad
