A Good Father

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Recently, my husband and I started the process of buying our first home. It freaked me out. Big time. So much money, so much responsibility, so many things to break and cost even more money… So, I asked God not to just shut the door if it was the wrong move, but to SLAM it in our faces. Instead, he opened the door even wider.

And his goodness stunned me. Again.

You see, like a lot of people, I never expected God to give me good things. Or, if he did, I expected him to snatch them away again the next second. Because that’s how my life has always gone. When I was a teenager I said that life is like drowning in the ocean. You get some breaths between the waves, but only enough to make sure you keep surviving—a cruel punishment.

It wasn’t until a couple years ago that I realized God wasn’t the one sending the waves. It was my dad. God was there, looking at me with compassion and love the whole time. He was waiting for the perfect moment to deliver me and show me all the goodness my dad had been keeping from me. He knew I needed to be ready to face the truth. He knew I needed to have the support of a loving husband. He knew he needed to work in my mom, sister, and brother’s hearts as well.

The whole time I was drowning, he was preparing me for freedom. And now, he is showing me what the Bible means when it calls him Father.

People say that a lot. When you have a toxic dad, they tell you to cling to God as your Father. The problem is, if all you have is a bad example, that’s pretty much impossible. You see God through the lens of the abuser’s manipulation. You try to be perfect so God won’t be disappointed. As many times as you hear he loves you, you still can’t believe it. Not really.

But now, for the first time, I’m starting to be able to see God as a good Father. Naming what happened to me gave me the ability to reject my dad’s lens. God isn’t on the side of the abuser. He doesn’t look like spiritual abuse says he does.

He actually has good in store for me, even though I never believed it.

Maybe I’ve had it all wrong my whole life (no big surprise there)

vlad-bagacian-634061-unsplashPhoto by Vlad Bagacian on Unsplash

I’ve been reading Love, Medicine, and Miracles by Bernie Siegel, which is about how our perceptions, beliefs, and hope effects our healing and health. I started thinking about how God calls us to have faith—and I found myself questioning beliefs I hadn’t even put into words before…

Maybe I’ve had it all wrong my whole life. Maybe faith isn’t like a currency. God doesn’t ask us to have faith because he wants to make sure we’re doing our part. It’s not like we better have enough faith or he won’t do anything for us. He’s not sitting up there irritated because we can’t get it together enough to trust him.

In my church background, faith meant standing firm, holding on to what you want with everything you’ve got. You want to get physically, emotionally, or mentally healed? Then don’t settle for anything less. Healing is your birthright. Faith as small as a mustard seed can move mountains, so if that mountain staring you in the face doesn’t move, you must not have a seed’s worth.

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But maybe faith is being okay with not getting healed. Maybe it’s leaning in to God and crying because you have to let another dream, another friendship, another person go. But you have faith that he has still made your life worth living.

Maybe it’s more like how he told us to rest. He didn’t do that to give himself another reason to punish us when we fail to take our Sabbath. He did it because he knows we need rest. He knows we will work ourselves to death in fear and greed and workaholic-ism. He knows he needs to tell us to slow down, to rest like he did for at least one day each week.

Maybe he tells us to have faith because he wants to partner with us in our healing. Maybe it’s a gentle voice that puts his mighty hand on our back and says, “It’s okay, I’ve got this. We will get through this together.” Maybe he knows that we need the peace faith brings in order to have enough hope to get healing.

Maybe faith has a lot more to do with hope than I ever realized. Maybe faith isn’t something you strive for. It’s just hope mixed with trust.

ron-smith-372792-unsplashPhoto by Ron Smith on Unsplash

I’m beginning to realize why faith, hope, and love are so inseparable in the Bible. They are all, in essence, facets of the same thing. I guess that makes sense, since they are all part of God’s nature, and he is one.

So with that, may you have hope in your brokenness today.