When the children became adults, their hearts naturally followed the one who had been there through every season,
not the one who funded the seasons.
This viral post recently made the rounds online. It is about a father who trained his children, sent them abroad, and watched them become successful. But after years of sacrifice, he noticed something painfully missing: none of them called to check on him.
They remembered their mother for every Omugwo, every milestone, every celebration, but never once thought to fly him out or sit with him. In frustration, the man sold one of his properties worth ₦500 million, declaring he would spend his wealth on himself since his children didn’t care.
It’s easy to laugh at such stories online, but beneath the humor lies a tragedy that plays out in many homes today. Fathers who gave everything: money, education, opportunities, but withheld the one thing that truly builds legacy: presence.
Many men begin fatherhood with the purest intentions. They want to secure a future for their children, so they throw themselves into work, building, providing, and ensuring the family never lacks. They believe, “I’m doing this for my wife and children“. “When my children grow up, they’ll understand.”
But in trying to secure the future, many lose the present. They miss birthdays, bedtime prayers, school plays, family dinners, and the small moments that shape a child’s sense of belonging and identity. When those children eventually grow up, what they understand is not always what their fathers hoped for. They remember a man who was busy, not necessarily with strangers, but not with them either.
Children rarely articulate this pain, but they sometimes interpret absence as rejection. Their emotional memories are formed by those who showed up, the one who prayed over them before school, who sat by them in sickness, who comforted them in fear.
Yet, let’s be honest: many of our fathers were not absent because they didn’t love us. They were absent because they were trying to love us the only way they knew how. They came from a generation where a good father was judged by what he could provide, not how much time he could give. Their pursuit of provision was not neglect, it was survival, honour, and the deep desire to ensure their families never suffered what they did.
So before we judge such fathers, let’s pause and say, thank you.
Thank you for the nights you stayed awake so we could sleep.
Thank you for the jobs you endured so we could eat.
Thank you for hiding your fears behind a brave face.
Thank you for doing your best with what you knew.
Yet, Love Was Always Meant to Be More
Provision is an expression of love, but it is not the fullness of it. Presence, warmth, laughter, prayer, and shared moments are the language of legacy. When a child remembers home, it is rarely the furniture or the house they recall; it is the sound of laughter in the living room, the prayers at dawn, the smell of food from the kitchen, and the arms that held them in sickness.
Proverbs 17:1 says “Better a dry crust with peace and quiet than a house full of feasting, with strife”. Fathers were never meant to only provide roofs; they were meant to build roots.
God, our perfect Father, shows us this model. He does not only provide for His children, He is present. Deuteronomy 31:6 says, “The Lord your God goes with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you”. His nearness, not just His provision, gives us confidence and joy. Psalm 16:11 says, “In Your presence there is fullness of joy; at Your right hand are pleasures forevermore”
If God only provided from a distance, we would still be lost. But His abiding presence teaches, comforts, and reassures us. That is the pattern every earthly father is called to follow, to be both provider and companion, reflecting God’s heart toward His children.
Abraham
Abraham wasn’t perfect, but he modeled fatherhood with balance. God said of him in Genesis 18:19, “For I have chosen him, so that he will direct his children and his household after him to keep the way of the Lord by doing what is right and just” Abraham didn’t only provide for Isaac materially; he led him spiritually. He carried him to the altar. He modeled faith, obedience, and worship. Fathers who build altars with their children build legacies that never die.
“Papa, Stay Back and Watch Over The Business”
In that viral story, the children flew their mother abroad for Omugwo, while their father was told to stay home and “watch over the business.” That simple detail is symbolic. When a man’s identity becomes his business, he becomes a caretaker of possessions instead of a cultivator of relationships.
The mother, however, became the pillar of the home. She prayed, nurtured, listened, disciplined, laughed, and anointed. She was the consistent voice that built memories. So when the children became adults, their hearts naturally followed the one who had been there through every season, not the one who funded the seasons.
What Truly Lasts
Proverbs 13:22 says, “A good person leaves an inheritance for their children’s children, but a sinner’s wealth is stored up for the righteous”. Many fathers interpret this as financial inheritance. But the greatest inheritance a man can leave his children is not land or wealth, it is wisdom, faith, love, and godly example.
Solomon received more from David’s heart than from David’s treasury. David taught him the fear of the Lord, the value of worship, and the importance of repentance. Those formed his early years far more deeply than gold ever could.
A Call to Balance
Provision is noble. Hard work is godly. But work must never replace fatherhood. God’s order is not “Work first, then family later.” It is, “Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness” (Matthew 6:33), and part of that righteousness is fulfilling your divine role at home. It is possible to succeed in the world and fail at home. To build companies and lose connection. To send your children abroad and yet have your memory fade from their hearts.
Fathers, we honour your sacrifices, but we also remind you, your family still needs you. Let your children remember your laughter, your prayers, your embrace, and your wisdom, not just your money.
If you are a mother reading this, praying for a husband who is too consumed by work, do not nag; pray. Ask God to reorder his priorities. He who called fathers to lead will also convict and restore them.
Perhaps that father in the story didn’t realize that legacy is not in what you leave behind, but who you leave behind and who you leave behind is shaped by your presence.
So, dear father, pause and ask yourself: When last did I look my child in the eye and truly see them?
Children will always choose love over luxury, connection over comfort, and presence over possessions. In the end, no matter how much success you amass, if your children don’t see you as a safe place, you may have built wealth, but not home.
