My Heavenly Father,

As the song says, you are a “good, good Father”…

and you have always been good to me.

You have blessed me.

You have guided me.

You have protected me.

You have provided for me.

You have forgiven me.

You have been merciful and gracious to me.

You have redeemed me.

And you have redeemed my suffering.

The suffering that Father’s Day brings to mind every year.

And this year, it has brought to mind the closed door.

You know the one of which I speak.

The door to Cooper’s nursery.

The door through which we intended to bring him.

The door that led to a bright, happy room.

The door to a room filled with toys, pictures, and love.

The door to a room with his bed.

The door to a room with the rocking chair we’d use to soothe him.

The door to a room he never saw.

The door to a room that he never used.

The door that remained closed for over a year.

Closed, because the pain was too great.

Closed, because it reminded us of what was lost.

Closed, because to open it took more strength than we had at the time.

But while the door remained closed, our hearts were not.

Our hearts, though broken, remained open to you.

Open, because we trusted you.

Open, because we loved you.

Open, because we needed you.

And through that opening you brought forth hope.

Hope that sustained us.

Hope that strengthened us.

Hope that saved us.

It was your hope that kept our hearts open.

Open to the reward of love that is worth the risks.

Open to the possibility of parenting another child.

Open to more of the story than a closed door.

And when we opened that door again…

We brought a baby through it.

Cooper’s sister.

A girl named Hope.

Thank you, Lord, for never closing the door of your love to me…

and for opening the door to Hope.

You are, indeed, a good, good Father.

Amen.