Ephesians, Part 6 / Father’s Day / Ephesians 3:14-21
Every dad answers one question eventually, whether he means to or not: What do I want most for my kids?
It usually starts with good things. We want them to be successful. We want them to be comfortable. We want them to learn from our mistakes, do what we never got to do, and—more than anything—we want them to be happy. None of that is wrong. Those are good things to want.
But the thing you want most is the thing that quietly shapes how you parent. If what you want most is for your kids to be successful, you can drift into constant pressure about grades, sports, and college—and your kids can grow up believing love is something they earn by performing. If what you want most is to give them everything you never had, you can end up working so hard to provide stuff that you're never actually home. The kids get the nice things and lose the present father.
So the question matters. And in Ephesians 3:14–21, we get to listen in as Paul prays over his own spiritual kids—and we find out what he wants most for the people he loves.
It isn't success. It isn't comfort. It isn't possessions or experiences. What Paul wants most is the one thing we actually need.
Your family doesn't need a father with more stuff—they need a father who's been radically transformed by the love of Jesus.
Strength on the Inside
Here's the surprising part. Paul doesn't pray for their circumstances to change. He doesn't ask God to fix their politics or make life easier. Before anything around them changes, Paul begs God to change something inside them.
"I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit." (Ephesians 3:16, NLT)
When we think of strength, we usually think of the kind you can see. We want to look fit. We want to be tough. As dads especially, we want it to look like we've got it all together. And there's nothing wrong with being physically strong—that's good stewardship of the body God gave us.
The danger is when we pour everything into appearing strong on the outside while quietly going weak on the inside. We're disciplined enough to hit the gym but not to pray. Disciplined enough to push hard but not to rest. Disciplined enough to fight but not to forgive. We look confident and in control, while on the inside we're being run by fear and shame.
Paul prays for the other kind of strength—the kind that holds up when everything else gives out. Because here's the thing: as we age, our physical strength fades. But inner strength through the Spirit can keep growing. Your muscles may weaken, but your love, joy, peace, patience, and gentleness can deepen for the rest of your life. That's the strength that actually carries you through whatever comes.
You Can't Manufacture It
Most of us hear "you need inner strength" and immediately start building a plan.
The doers among us think, Okay, I'll read my Bible every day, extend my prayer time, sign up to serve, start tithing so everyone knows I'm a good Christian. The feelers think, I need to get back to the worship songs that give me goosebumps so I can feel God again. The thinkers think, Let me go find the right system that'll finally help me understand all this.
None of those things are bad. But if you think you can do something to generate inner strength on your own, you've missed the point. Paul isn't prescribing behavior modification or religious effort. He's saying inner strength comes when we stop striving and surrender—when we give the Holy Spirit access to every room of our lives.
That's when this happens:
"Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him." (Ephesians 3:17, NLT)
The Greek word for "home" there doesn't mean God rents a room from you. It doesn't mean He drops by for a visit and leaves when the party's over. It means He moves in, unpacks the boxes, and takes up permanent residence.
And here's the catch: Jesus doesn't move in as a roommate. He moves in as the owner. And owners renovate. Slowly but surely, He starts hauling out the old furniture, cleaning the carpet you've been ignoring, dealing with the pile of laundry you keep stepping over. He doesn't just want part of the house. He wants all of it—not to shame you, but to make the whole place look more like His heart.
Roots That Go Deep
Paul keeps going, and he reaches for an image every San Diegan understands—roots.
"Your roots will grow down into God's love and keep you strong." (Ephesians 3:17, NLT)
Roots are easy to overlook because you can't see them. But they might be the most important part of any plant—and any life. Roots anchor a tree so it doesn't wash away in the storm. They pull in nutrients so it stays healthy. They store up reserves so it can survive a drought. They grow in hidden places, long before there's any sign of growth above the surface. And the deeper and wider they spread, the more weight the tree can hold as it grows.
It works the same way in us. Being rooted in God's love keeps us planted when life's storms hit. It nourishes us so that Scripture, prayer, and community stop feeling like a have to and become a need to. It builds a reservoir we can draw from when prayers feel dry and feelings fade—because when you can't feel God on the surface, you can still draw on what your roots know is true.
Here in San Diego, being rooted isn't really the question. We're all rooted in something—careers, relationships, politics, self-image. The real question is where. Because a lot of those things can't hold the weight of a life. Only roots that sink down into the everlasting, unconditional, transforming love of God will keep you strong when everything else starts to shake.
And dads, this is one of the greatest gifts you can give your kids. We tend to see our role as the provider—work harder, bring home more, keep them safe and comfortable. Providing matters. But your kids need more than your money, more than a roof, more than food on the table. They need you at the table. A present father. A guide, a coach, a mentor. Someone who shows them how to trust God, how to find rest when life is chaotic, how to live in a strength that doesn't come from themselves.
Your family doesn't need a father figure with more stuff. They need a father who's been radically transformed by the love of Jesus.
A Love With Four Dimensions
This is why Paul prays what he prays next:
"And may you have the power to understand, as all God's people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is." (Ephesians 3:18, NLT)
We tend to shrink God's love down to a single dimension. God loves me enough to forgive me and get me into heaven. Or we tie it to performance—if things are going well, He must love me; if they're not, maybe He doesn't.
Paul wants us to know it's so much bigger than that. God's love is wide enough to include you, flaws and all. Long enough to last, no matter what tomorrow brings. High enough to lift you above your present pain. Deep enough to reach you in whatever pit you're in.
It doesn't matter who you are or what you've done—His love is big enough to save you. It doesn't matter if you feel like the best father alive or a total failure—His love brings you in. It doesn't matter how far you've run—His love is big enough to bring you home.
And that same love is the only thing that can actually make us whole.
"Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God." (Ephesians 3:19, NLT)
There's a hole in all of us we keep trying to fill—with achievement, money, relationships, status, degrees. None of it satisfies for long, because all of it eventually goes away. The only thing that fills the hole and stays is the love of Jesus.
Infinitely More
Paul ends with one of the boldest sentences he ever wrote:
"Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think." (Ephesians 3:20, NLT)
The phrase translated "infinitely more" is a word Paul basically had to invent—stacking prefixes on top of prepositions because normal language ran out. The closest we can get is super-abundantly beyond. Think about infinity for a second: between the numbers one and two there are infinite numbers. God's love is like that—so far beyond what we can picture that it stops making sense.
Here's a way to feel it. If someone handed you an infinite amount of money, you wouldn't go hunting for deals at the 99-cent store. You'd dream as big as you possibly could. God has handed you an infinite supply of His love. So live in it.
Pray bigger—for inner strength, not just easier circumstances. Instead of only praying "God, fix this," start praying "Father, root me so deeply in Your love that I can stand no matter what happens." Don't just ask God to remove something. Ask Him to revive something.
Pray bolder—for the people you love. If His love really is limitless, stop praying tiny, safe prayers. When you pray for your kids, don't just ask for safety and success—ask that they'd be rooted in love and filled with the fullness of God. When you pray for someone far from God, don't just ask that they'd show up at church; ask that He'd overwhelm them with a love you couldn't possibly script.
Live like you can't use His love up. An infinite-love mindset kills scarcity. Be generous—with your time, your attention, your money—because you're drawing from an endless well, not a trickle that's about to run dry. Tell yourself every day: I can't drain the love of God.
When your roots go down deep into the Father's love, His power can do infinitely more in you and through you than you ever dreamed.
So back to the question we started with—what do you want most for your kids? Maybe the best answer isn't something you can give them at all. Maybe it's something you let God do in you first, so that the people under your roof catch a glimpse of a love that's wide and long and high and deep, and never runs out.
Share this with someone this week.
Paul wrote this prayer over the people he loved most—and the love he describes is too wide to keep to yourself. Notice that he says we only grasp how wide, long, high, and deep God's love is "as all God's people should"—together. You're not meant to map this love alone. So pass it on. Send this to a dad who needs to hear that his kids need him more than anything he could buy them, or to someone running on empty who's forgotten that God's love doesn't run dry. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is hand someone a reminder that they're already loved—infinitely, and beyond what they can imagine.
What are you going to do about it?
Read Ephesians 3:14–21 slowly this week — once a day if you can. Each time, pay attention to what Paul actually prays for: not changed circumstances, but inner strength, deeper roots, and a love too big to fully grasp. Then ask yourself: Where have I been working hardest to look strong on the outside while going quietly weak on the inside? And: If I really believed God's love was infinite—that I could never use it up—what's one prayer I'd start praying bigger, or one way I'd start loving the people under my roof differently?
About the Ephesians Series
God has always had a plan. The book of Ephesians reveals the incredible story of God’s plan to bring salvation to all people through Jesus Christ and unite them into one family. In this 13-week series, we’ll discover what it means to live with purpose as people who have been chosen, redeemed, and called by God. Along the way, we’ll explore how the Holy Spirit transforms our everyday relationships—with family, friends, the Church, and the world around us. Ephesians is an invitation to step into God’s greater story and live the kind of life we were created for.