Is God a Girl Dad?

My sister posted a meme the other day, joking that God had to be a girl dad. Since I have a daughter, I Googled “girl dad” to see if I qualified for that label, too.

I’ve never painted my daughter’s nails or heard her sing anything from Frozen. I’ve never given her a piggyback ride or twirled her at a Daddy-Daughter Dance. She came to live with us after her sophomore year of high school (while I was on a helicopter between British Columbian glaciers), and the court system declared me as her dad for the first time while she was home on break from college.

Until the last week of 2024, I never categorized myself as a #girldad. A trip to Europe and an Instastory changed that. I had asked my daughter where she wanted to go on holiday break, and she picked London (surprisingly over a Caribbean beach I’d proposed). After we arrived on her first transatlantic flight, she chose our daily activities. I chose which card to pull from my wallet.

The guy who wears a flat-brimmed hat in his 4×4 pickup, rides a knobby-tired motorcycle, and vacations in places that require a tent found himself eating a decadent cupcake at a magical pink bakery, consulting on flavors to purchase at a tea store, and standing in a winding queue for the privilege of shopping in a premium makeup shop.

It made me happy to give these moments to my daughter with the pink couch, pink chairs, and pink appliances in her university apartment. She allowed me to take only a few pictures of her and only for Mom. But I didn’t need to snap the shutter on my iPhone to record long-term memories of a 21-year-old woman filled with wonder, curiosity, and delight.

I got choked up a couple of times, reflecting on our impromptu adventures during a trip very different from my typical vacations. According to Google’s AI summary of girl dadhood, that lump in my throat is something I should embrace as a newer member of this tribe.

I’ve prayed many times that my kid would feel Jesus’ love through how I love her. I knew it’d take something supernatural—something definitely beyond my perspective—to overcome what “dad” had meant in both of our childhoods.

That meme was right, and it arrived at the exact right time.

The more I’ve sought my Father’s embrace while hiking alone in the woods, listening to heart-renting music, crying in a therapist’s office, and journaling after profound books … the more of a girl dad I’ve become.

Since Jesus claimed that if we’ve seen him we’ve seen his dad, my picture of Jesus has been growing more detailed and colorful as I dive deeper into fatherhood. The more sacrifices I make for and time I spend with my daughter, the more I’ve seen what it is to be a beloved son.

My daughter will never go out on the wing of a plane with me or ice climb while I belay her, but she has shown me how much a Good Father delights in the adventures I choose for my trips around the world he fashioned. My pastimes aren’t particularly male, but they are different than those recorded from Jesus’ life.

I used to think what I do for fun and decompression made me less holy, less pious, less spiritual. But especially after a long weekend in England, I know I’m just putting a lump in the throat of the One who gave me the freedom to explore his uniquely-united kingdom.