When summer camps ended, hubby took a few days off to regroup and get things done at home, and we took the whole family down to the cities to visit Como Park. They have a free zoo, live butterfly exhibit, and plant conservatory.
I took the driving shift going down, and I was pretty tired. I found myself singing along with the radio to stay alert when the song, “Good, Good Father,” came on. It’s familiar to me. We have sung it in church, and my own story makes it especially meaningful.
“You’re a good, good Father. It’s who You are, It’s who You are.”
I have heard so many women talk about how they have a hard time relating to God as Father in any kind of positive light because their experience with their earthly father was so bad. And yet, I ponder, what are we using as a measuring stick for determining what makes a good father or a bad one?
I was one of the lucky kids. When all my class mates talked about their parents divorcing, I was one of the few whose parents stayed together. Through thick and through thin, through disagreements and arguing behind closed doors. Through depression and repentance. When other marriages would have failed, their commitment to perseverance kept them together, and they still are (together).
My dad was present. If not emotionally, he was there physically, and he always provided well for us. As a child, I felt safe when I was with him.
He took me for a motorcycle ride when I was 6 or 7. Somewhere, mixed up in those memories, is a conversation where he told me how much he loved me. He said that he would cut off his hand for me, if only . . .
It’s the “if only” that stuck with me–that little conditional add on that squeezed my heart.
He said it more than once over the years. I don’t remember his exact words, but I remember the feeling I experienced when he said it. I cringed at the thought of my dad suffering for me, and yet I felt doubt that I could ever meet his expectation.
If only _________. You fill in the blank. If only I could be obedient enough.
Be good enough.
How does a child that age even translate that kind of doubt in their ability to be what someone else wants them to be? In his words, his willingness to give for me depended upon me.
When I was 30 my parents became offended and my dad told me to have a “nice little life”. It was the day after Valentines Day, and only one of 2 occasions I have ever seen my husband tear up over anything.
“Little”…this is what the value of my life, not meeting expectations, had been reduced to.
My kids were 5, 2, and almost 1. The next 5 precious babies were born after this, and my parents have never met them.
I grew up with the head knowledge that God’s love is unconditional, but all my examples had been of conditions. When things were going well, I subconsciously thought it was because I was doing “okay.” I thought I must have been reading my bible enough, praying enough, being good enough. When things were not going well, I felt like it was because I was messing up. I wondered what area of my life needed to improve. “Not good enough” was the lying voice in my head.
I was abandoned, even though I was an adult, by people I was supposed to be able to trust most in this world. I was wounded. I was angry. I had that plum sized lump of grief in my throat for so many years that I thought it would never go away. They were really. rough. years.
Looking back I know God was ripping out the faulty foundation in my life. That’s a big job. It’s a lot easier to lay a right foundation to begin with because everything is built on that foundation. Remove the foundation and the whole stinkin’ house comes down. Yet, that’s not how God works. Because God can do anything, He held the house together, but while He was laying a new foundation He was also putting up new supports. He has been teaching me to live, as Nancy Leigh De Moss puts it, with the roof off and the walls down. That is “open and humble before God (roof off) and open with other people (walls down)”.
He turned my gaze away from what other people thought of me and my desire to please others, and taught me instead to keep my gaze on Him. What He thinks of me is really the only thing that matters.
God has had to help me redefine who He is and embrace who I am in Him…begin to align my version of truth with what God declares is truth. When we do that, a really spectacular thing happens. You begin to live loved, valued, and accepted.
My life is hidden in Christ. That is where my worth lies.
And where do we get that measuring stick that determines who is a “good father” and who is not? God is the measuring stick. He is the ultimate Good Father. He never messes up, He is fully present, His provision is generous . . .
His love is exactly what you and I need.
God is the Perfect Father.
And while I listen to others say they can’t stand to think of God as Father because their own father broke their heart, I say it was because my father broke my heart that I understand how good my heavenly Father is. If I had not been rejected, I would not be able to experience my Father God’s love in the same way I can today.
I used to read the verse where God says, “I’ll never leave you nor forsake you,” and think it was just saying the same thing two different ways; but these two things are very different.
People leave us. They move away from us. They die. But that’s not necessarily rejection. They still call, write, etc. God will never leave. He will never move away from you or from me. We may sin and choose to move away from Him, but He will never leave.
To be forsaken? Well, that is something altogether different. That is rejection. That is “leave” on steroids. No phone calls. No letters. No, “See you on the other side.”
Forsaking is renouncing.
Forsaking is rejecting.
Forsaking is abandoning.
Forsaking is turning your back on.
That is what happened to Christ our Lord when He laid down his life for us. “By this, we know what love is.” (1 John 3:16) He was forsaken in order to write us in on His inheritance as a Child of God.
When you’re a Child of God, he will never forsake you.
He will always, always, always be with you.
Always intercede for you.
Always sing over you.
Always provide for you.
Always love you.
God is a Good Father. He does not punish his children; He disciplines them, gently and lovingly, for their good.
He will never hurt your heart. He is not harsh with his children. He will heal your heart.
God will never try to control your actions. Instead, He will transform your heart . . . your actions will automatically follow. People will start to notice how much you resemble your good Father.
His love for you is not dependent upon your performance. He never loves you more because of what you do right, and he will never love you less because of what you do wrong. His love for you is not based upon you at all. His love for you is completely dependent upon who HE is. It is UN-CONDITIONAL. In Lysa TerKeurst’s words,
“His love isn’t based on you, it’s placed on you.”
He will not instill fear . . . He will cast out fear, and replace it with His peace.
He is enough.
He is everything, our “exceedingly great reward”.
He is a Good-Good-Father.
It’s who He is. And I’m loved by Him. That’s who I am.