My parents split when I was really little, right about the time my brothers and I were removed from our home and placed in foster care. Even after my mom won custody of us back, my dad was never part of my life again. I barely remember him, and all I remember was attached to pain and abuse. Honestly, the most I ever knew about his life as a man was what I heard at his funeral, which I attended about 5 years ago.
It’s amazing how someone NOT being part of your life can shape your life.
Growing up, I don’t remember thinking, “No fair, I wish I had a dad.” My brothers probably felt the sting more, not having a man to relate to as they matured. But eventually, somewhere in mid-adolescence, it hit me. That’s when I figured out that my “normal” was actually a handicap of some sorts… not that I let on to anyone about that revelation. Once I entered my early 20′s, I finally started to face the fact that my heart was missing some key ingredients in the areas of stability and security, and being fatherless was at the root of a good deal of my unresolved emotional pain.
Was I a Christian? Yes. Did I understand that God loved me completely? Yes. Did I have other father figures step in to provide guidance and care? Yes. Did that fix it all? No. Continue reading…