Living in the shadow of my pastor dad

Many people know me by my nickname — M or MM.

But, to family friends and relatives, I am “Anak ni Kuya Rey.”

To the people of my hometown of Baler, I am “Anak ni Doc Rey.”

To our ministry friends at Greenhills Christian Fellowship (GCF), I am “Anak ni Pastor Rey.”

My parents are both medical doctors by profession. Both became members of GCF in the 1980s, and both became missionaries when they obeyed the Lord’s call to enter full-time ministry.

Growing up, I always felt like I was living in my dad’s shadow. My father was the kind of man that people respected. Everywhere I went, someone seemed to know him, especially in a small town like Baler. There were times when it felt like I was known more because I’m the son of Pastor Rey than as MM.

For that, I struggled.

I wanted to make my own mark in the world. I wanted to carve out my own story. I wanted people to see me not just as my father’s son, but as my own person. And, for a long time, I thought finding myself meant stepping out of my father’s shadow. I thought that if I could just get far enough away from the comparisons, then maybe people would finally see me for me.

But then, in November 2021, my father passed away. And, strangely, in the midst of the grief and loss, that’s when I understood his shadow the most.

I had spent so many years trying to step out of it, only to discover that it never really left. I still hear his voice in my mind when I’m facing a difficult decision. I still remember the wisdom he shared. I still find myself asking, “What would Dad do?” His values became my values. His faith had greatly shaped my faith. His influence had quietly become part of who I was. 

And that’s when I realized that what I had spent years calling a shadow wasn’t really a shadow at all.

It was a legacy.

A legacy of a father who loved and led his family well, and left footprints that were worth following.

Today, when someone tells me, “You remind me of your dad,” I no longer feel the need to deflect or separate myself from him. Instead, I smile…because I consider it one of the greatest compliments I could ever receive.

It means his life mattered. It means his influence continues. And it means that, even though he’s no longer here, God is still using his example to shape the man I’m becoming. How I wish I could be half the man my father was.

The Bible tells us that, through faith in Christ, we are adopted into God’s family. We are chosen. Welcomed. Given a place at His table. Given His name. Given an inheritance we could never earn ourselves. 

Likewise, as an adopted son into my earthly father’s family, I was also chosen, welcomed, given a place at his table, given his name, and given an inheritance of faith that no amount of money could match.

Now I understand why my father cast such a big shadow over me — because he himself was following a great and powerful light. 

And, today, I see it differently. The shadow wasn’t hiding me. It was covering me, guiding me, and reminding me to look to where the light truly came from.

To all the fathers, grandfathers, spiritual fathers, and father figures, both still with us and those who’ve passed on, I want to honor you all by thanking you for the shadows you cast. Maybe, like me, some of us have spent years trying to step out of them, only to discover they were never meant to hold us back. They were meant to guide us forward. – Rappler.com

Immanuel Etcubañez, himself a pastor, first shared this story on Father’s Day, June 21, 2026, with GCF Ortigas, where he serves as coordinator for the Young Adults Ministry. A graduate of Far Eastern University–Manila, he worked in public relations and marketing before entering full-time ministry in 2021. Outside of ministry, he enjoys photography, reading, gaming, and is a lifelong fan of Star Wars and The Lord of the Rings.