A Father for All of Us

A Father for All of Us

When I was two years old, my parents were divorced. My father had nothing to do with me after that. My mother remarried when I was four. Although my stepfather was a good provider, we were never really close until I was in my thirties. I spent my pre-teen years wondering about my “real” dad. When I was seventeen, I got the chance to meet him. It was awkward at best. He was very emotional. I was not. Why would I be? I went looking for him, not the other way around. So, in my mind, I new that he had no desire to know me. I think he was emotional because of his guilt.

We stayed in contact for a few years. Holiday visits and the occasional phone call. I had three sisters that I was trying to get to know, but then something happened. The one sister I was actually blood related to stopped being at their house when I would come around. She was never home when I called. Months and months passed. Although they lived in another state, I was still making an effort to be part of a family that I can see now didn’t really want me there. I was working with a girl who mentioned my dad’s name in a passing comment. I asked her how she knew him. She told me that he was her uncle because he had married her aunt. She then told me all about the baby that my sister had several months ago and how upset my father had been about her getting pregnant while she was in high school. So, he hid it from me. He actually was shipping her off every time I would mention coming to see them. I was very hurt. It just solidified what I already knew to be true, I had no place with these people.

So, I broke all ties. That was over 15 years ago, and I still cry about the experience. I work in a profession where I see abandoned children all of the time. Parents that just leave or stay but might as well not be there. Sometimes, these kids break down in conferences or even in the classroom. They break down under the absence of a parent’s love. It is amazing that something that is not there at all can weigh so heavy on a person.

It has taken me years to come to the conclusion that it really doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that this man had no interest in me. For all of the children whose parent(s) have cast them aside for whatever reason, it really doesn’t matter. It is hurtful. They are missing out, but we can not allow ourselves to feel “not good enough” or not valuable because someone didn’t care enough to care. The sooner children can learn to depend on God as their father, the better off they will be. They can avoid bad relationships and desperately seeking the approval of others to make up for the lack of approval from a parent. God does care about us. He does value us. He is interested. When we knock on his door, he will not hide from us or turn us away. When we are willing to accept his love, He is a Father for all of us.