Father’s Day Series Part 2

When Dad Wasn’t There

Psalm 68:5
“A father of the fatherless, and a judge of the widows, is God in his holy habitation.”

Up until the age of 14, I lived in the same town as my father, yet it felt as though he was thousands of miles away. He provided financial support and there were seasons when I spent weekends and holidays with him, but from my perspective, he never seemed interested in truly knowing his children.

I share this story not to shame my father, but to share how father wounds can impact a person’s life and how God can bring healing.

My father was married when I was born. Growing up in a small town, I often felt embarrassed and ashamed of the circumstances surrounding my birth. I felt different. I felt like an outsider.

It wasn’t until my mid-twenties that I realized something important: I was not responsible for the decisions my parents made. The choices that brought me into this world had nothing to do with my value or worth.

Many children who grow up without an engaged father carry invisible wounds. We often assume that a parent’s absence says something about us when it actually says something about their choices.

For years, I struggled with low self-esteem, distrust, and unhealthy relationships. My father never modeled what healthy love looked like, so I searched for love in places I should not have. I was looking for affirmation from people when what I truly needed was healing from God.

Even today, my father and I do not have the relationship I once hoped for. There are things he doesn’t know about me. Sometimes that reality makes me sad. Sometimes it still makes me angry.

What I have had to accept is that my father is who he is.

I don’t know what happened in his life that shaped him into the man he became. I don’t know why he made many of the choices he made. I don’t know why God allowed him to be my father.

But what I do know is this: I have a Father in heaven who has never abandoned me.

For years, I projected my earthly father’s qualities onto God. When prayers went unanswered or life became difficult, I sometimes felt disappointed in God because I expected Him to let me down the way my earthly father had.

But God is not like my father.

My Heavenly Father never disappears.

He stays close.
He comforts.
He corrects.
He provides.

He reminds me that I am loved, valued, and chosen.

For years, I viewed myself through the lens of rejection. Jesus taught me to see myself through the lens of His love instead.

The little girl who once wondered why her father didn’t choose her learned that she had always been chosen by God.

I’m grateful that Jesus healed the broken places in my heart. I’m grateful He changed how I viewed myself. The shame that once defined me no longer controls me.

Do I still hurt? Sometimes.

I don’t think I’ll ever completely stop wanting a deeper relationship with my father. But I no longer allow that longing to define my life.

If your story is similar to mine, Psalm 68:5 offers hope. God truly is a Father to the fatherless. He meets us in our pain, comforts us in our disappointments, and reminds us that our worth is not determined by who stayed or who left.

My father’s absence taught me many things, but one lesson stands above the rest: I never want my son to question whether he is loved.

His absence pushes me to be present.

His neglect motivates me to be intentional.

His failures remind me of the importance of showing up.

I forgave my father years ago. I pray that before he leaves this earth, he experiences restoration with the people he has hurt and encounters the fullness of God’s grace.

Because the story isn’t ultimately about my father.

It’s about a Heavenly Father who never left.

And to the fathers reading this who may have become distant from your children, I want to encourage you: if there is still breath in your body, it is not too late.

You cannot change the past, but you can make different choices today.

Maybe you missed birthdays.
Maybe you missed games.
Maybe you missed opportunities to be present.

You may not be able to recover every lost moment, but you can take a step toward reconciliation.

Make the call.
Send the text.
Write the letter.
Offer the apology.

Be willing to do the hard work of rebuilding trust.

Your children may be grown. They may be hurt. They may not immediately respond the way you hope. But don't let pride keep you from pursuing restoration.

Our God is a God of redemption, and redemption is possible even in broken relationships.