In a world that exalts a mother’s affection, a father’s quiet, steady support often fades into the background. His love is etched in long hours of toil, silent sacrifices, and stern words concealing deep concern. Like a shield, he guards his children without seeking applause. On Father’s Day, we pause to honor this unsung hero. But beyond the father we see lies another—unseen yet eternal: the Supreme Father, God.
For many, however, this divine bond feels elusive, clouded by a piercing question: If God is truly our Father, why does He allow us to suffer? It is the soul’s cry amid life’s challenges, when prayers seem unheard and sorrow lingers longer than one can bear. As we pay tribute to our earthly father, let us also turn to the One we often overlook: our Eternal Father. What appears as His absence or silence may carry a deeper purpose—and answers we are yet to uncover.
Complaint to God
One soul, overwhelmed with distress, turned to God for answers. “Shree Krishna, may I speak my mind today?” Shree Krishna smiled gently and said, “I reside in everyone’s heart. I have heard it all. Go ahead.”
The soul began: “Imagine a baby fallen into a ditch, wailing helplessly in the dark. Any passerby with a shred of compassion would lift that child out. Even if the parents were nowhere to be found, someone would call for help. No one would be cruel enough to leave the child to perish. Even humans have that much compassion.
And yet You—the Ocean of Mercy—see us fallen in the ditch of Maya (material illusion). We are tossed around by adversity, pandemics, and the cyclones of life. The Vedas declare we are all Your offspring. Then why don’t You lift us out of this darkness? Why don’t You end our suffering?”
Shree Krishna listened patiently, then replied, “O soul, you have accused Me of being unloving, even cruel. You seek My intervention because I am your Father. But before I answer, tell Me: Do you truly believe that I am your Father?”
The soul fell silent, lost in thought.
We often visit temples and chant, “Tvameva Mata cha Pita Tvameva”—“O Lord, You alone are my Mother and Father.” But do our actions truly reflect these words? When life presents challenges, we run to lawyers, doctors, or employers—rarely to God. Our trust is scattered, our surrender incomplete. We lean on worldly crutches, forgetting the One who holds the world. God is ever eager to uplift us. But first, we must accept Him fully—as our Father, not just in words, but with complete faith.
Purpose of Pain
The soul, though quieter now, still carried the ache of unanswered questions and spoke again. “But why must life be so hard? If You are truly our Father, why craft a world filled with hurricanes, heartbreak, and hardship? Shree Krishna replied with a tender gaze. “O soul, adversity is not punishment—it is an instrument of elevation.”
Just as persistent pressure carves mighty canyons, life’s trials shape and refine the soul. Challenges are not meant to break us, but to reveal our weaknesses, spark introspection, and foster transformation. A difficult neighbor tests your anger; a stubborn child stretches your patience. These trials are not random—they are divinely tailored, across lifetimes, to awaken our highest potential. The Chhāndogya Upaniṣhad teaches that even natural disasters like earthquakes and floods are divine instruments sent to shake the soul out of complacency. They jolt us from the illusion of material permanence and reorient us towards spiritual truth. Every joy and sorrow fits perfectly into God’s design, orchestrated for our soul’s evolution.
Consider this example.
One morning, a boy found a cocoon in his garden and waited eagerly for the butterfly to emerge. When it finally began to struggle out, the boy saw it getting stuck. Out of pity, he snipped the cocoon open with scissors. The butterfly slipped out easily—but its wings were shriveled. It never flew. What the boy did not realize was: For the larva to transform into a beautiful butterfly, the struggle was essential. It pushes fluid into the wings, strengthening them for flight. Without that resistance, the wings stay too weak to soar.
We often plead to be rescued from trials, but these obstacles may be the very conditions our souls need to develop wings. Setbacks are not signs of God’s neglect. They are sacred tools shaping the masterpiece within us in ways we cannot yet see. Parents who shield children from every hardship unknowingly hinder their growth. As the saying goes, “Treat your children with kid gloves, and they will grow into babies.” Overprotected children often develop fragile personalities, struggle with decision-making, and are risk averse. God is our most benevolent Father and He does not overprotect, He empowers us.
The Bhagavad Gita offers profound insight: yā niśhā sarva-bhūtānāṁ tasyāṁ jāgarti sanyamī yasyāṁ jāgrati bhūtāni sā niśhā paśhyato muneḥ ~ Verse 2.69
“What all beings consider as day is the night of ignorance for the wise, and what all creatures see as night is the day for the introspective sage.”
Comfort rarely builds character; it is in discomfort that we grow. Therefore, where others mourn discomfort, the wise see opportunity for inner growth. This is the divine paradox: What we call misfortune may actually be divine grace. What we beg to be rid of may be the very thing that sets us free. We often pray for a “blessed life,” imagining comfort, wealth, and luxury. But God’s greatest blessings are different: cultivation of surrender, instilling of humility, and the blossoming of the soul.
Humbled and illumined, the soul listened to God’s wisdom in awe.
It looked up at Shree Krishna, eyes filled with new understanding. “Still… one question remains: “You allow my pain for my growth. But beyond this, what is the essence of our bond? What ties me to You, and You to me?” Krishna smiled. “For this, you must first understand your true nature and your relationship with Me."
Bond of Eternality
Often, we say that we are “children of God.” But what does that mean? Are we His children in the same way a child is born to parents in this world?
The Bhagavad Gita Verse 15.7 clarifies that the soul is not born of God in the biological sense. Rather, we are anśha—tiny fragments—of Him. Lord Krishna says: The living entities in this conditioned world are My eternal fragmental parts. Just as a drop of water a child of the ocean, we too are tiny reflections of God’s infinite essence. The Paramatma Sandarbha, a scripture by Jiva Goswami, offers a beautiful analogy: Just as rays of sunlight are extensions of the sun—not the sun itself, but still not separate from it—so too are we tiny sparks of God’s energy. We are Jeev Shakti, or soul energy—eternal, sentient, and divine in nature. Because we are the energy of God, we have existed as long as He has.
Worldly relationships, including those we celebrate on Father’s Day, are beautiful but temporary. As the Vedas ask: “O soul, how many mothers and fathers have you had? How many husbands, wives, sons, and daughters? Where are they now?” One day, we will leave all these worldly relatives behind. But our relationship with God never ends. He is the One constant in our journey across time, birth, and rebirth. He is our Sambandhi, someone with whom we have an eternal relationship.
His Unseen Hand
The soul's curiosity now turned to the mystery of God's presence. “If You are always with me Lord, why do I so often feel alone? Where are You when I need You the most?” There was no reply. Yet in that silence, understanding dawned upon him. God’s presence is not always revealed through words or miracles. Often, it is hidden in quiet moments—unseen, yet unfailing.
One night, a weary traveler stumbled into a village. Hungry and exhausted, he asked for food. A villager directed him to a generous man’s home. “Nobody leaves his door empty-handed,” he said. Despite the late hour and the kitchen already being shut, the man welcomed the traveler, reopened the kitchen with his wife, and prepared a fresh meal. As he served it, he said humbly, “By the grace of God, this has been made possible. Please offer your thanks to Him.” But the traveler was an atheist. “Why should we bring God into this?” he snapped. The host was taken aback. “You don’t believe in God?”
“God is man’s invention, nothing else,” the traveler replied. Annoyed, the host took the plate away. “Then let us see how you eat without Him,” he said, and shut the door after pushing out the traveler.
That night, God appeared to the host in a vivid dream and asked gently, “Tell me, how old was that traveler?” “About 55,” the man replied. God said, “For all these years, he has insulted Me—and yet I have arranged his meals, day after day. You could not bear one insult?” The man broke down. “O Supreme Almighty, Your mercy is beyond measure. Even to those who deny You, You never stop showering your blessings.”
Consider a sacred rite of passage from the Cherokee tribe.
When a boy comes of age, he is blindfolded and left alone deep in the forest to spend the night there. Imagine the fear: rustling leaves, growling animals, chilling winds. But when the boy finally removes the blindfold at dawn, he sees his father, seated silently beside him. The father sat there with his son all night, guarding him in complete stillness.
Is our situation any different? In the darkest nights of life, when we cannot see God or feel His presence, He is still there—silent, watchful, never leaving our side. That is the essence of faith—not in seeing, but in trusting the unseen hand that never lets go. His presence is woven into every moment for our highest good, whether or not we acknowledge Him.
Conclusion
The soul, overwhelmed by divine revelation, whispered, “Now I wonder… what can I give You in return for all You have done?” Shree Krishna smiled gently saying, “Only one thing, my child—your love.”
In the Bhagavad Gita, Shree Krishna declares: patraṁ puṣhpaṁ phalaṁ toyaṁ yo me bhaktyā prayachchhati tadahaṁ bhaktyupahṛitam aśhnāmi prayatātmanaḥ ~ Verse 9.26
“If one offers to Me with devotion a leaf, a flower, a fruit, or even water, I delightfully partake of that item offered with love by My devotee in pure consciousness.”
It is not the grandeur of the offering that touches Him, but the love behind it. God is not a transactional being seeking rituals or riches. He is a compassionate Father, moved by heartfelt gestures. This Father’s Day, let us honor not only our father who raised us, but also pause to remember the One who has accompanied us across lifetimes. Offer a quiet prayer, a whisper of gratitude, to the Supreme Father—our eternal relative. It is from Him we came. In Him we dwell. And to Him, one day, we shall return.
Resources
● Understanding God's Plan for you - Train you Mind to Navigate Life's Challenges | Swami Mukundananda
● Difficulty is an opportunity for spiritual growth - Motivational Video by Swami Mukundananda
● How are we related to God? | The Science of Bhakti - Part 2 | Swami Mukundananda
● UNLOCK Your Deepest Connection with God - The 3 Ways to God Realization | Swami Mukundananda
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