Dear Fathers,

Please.  Play with your children.
Let them poke your middle-aged paunch and call you “Big Daddy.”
Giggle. Snicker. Guffaw.  
Cause a tidal wave in the swimming pool and then thrash them all roundly with a noodle.
Take off your shoes and play in the waterfall.
Kiss the wife of your youth in the sight of your not-so-young children.
Look for that gecko.  
Linger in the museum. 
Wrestle ‘til somebody gets a bloody nose, maybe you.  
Climb the mountain before dawn and speak of the resurrection.  
Sing--even if you don’t remember all the words, for Christ the Lord is risen today.
Open your heart to the hungry, the abused, the abandoned, the belligerent, the disabled.  
Pray often that their “other” parents would come to know the Father of all mercies.  
Take in one more.
Prepare for the hard days of sorrow sure to come.
Rock your babies to sleep with your teens snuggled beside you on the couch.
Work hard.
Love the Church.
Read the Word, coffee in hand, toddler climbing over your shoulder.
And bring your single friends along—for all of it.
That they may glorify your Father who is in heaven.