The embrace of my Father

I have many memories of growing up without a father.

When I was 5-years-old I began to wonder about the absence of my father. One night I crawled into bed with my mom and asked her a question that had been on my mind for awhile. “How old was I when my Daddy left?” I asked my mom. She looked at me and I could see that the response would be painful; she replied, “Well...you weren’t born yet when he left.” I would have never imagined such a response, it seemed unheard of, incomprehensible. I didn’t know what to think of her answer, so I said what I was feeling, “That makes me really sad,” words that broke my mother’s heart. I felt that way about the absence of my father for a very long time.

I still remember when I truly felt the loss of my father; I think I was about 8. We were having a street party, and I was at a neighbour’s house. Music was playing and people were dancing and having a blast. Suddenly I found myself alone, my friends had disappeared, and so I looked around at the families together. I saw a young couple dancing with one another, their little girl in the centre of their embrace. What did that feel like? Would I ever even know? I ran down the street into my mother’s arms, and cried because I knew that I would never get to be that girl.

Memories like these burst forth. All I need is silence, and I can feel my heart breaking. At 7, 8, 9, 10, my heart continues to break from one memory to another. I shudder at the thought of father-daughter events. The heartbreak I experienced when I had no one to make a cake with me at girl guides, my friend’s father stepping in my own father’s place. When can I be normal, I would cry out. Why does this have to happen to little girls? I’ll never know the answer.

Something changed this year.

“Father of the fatherless and protector of widows is God in his holy habitation.” Psalm 68:5

I have a Father. All I need is silence, and I can feel my heart start to soar. At 7, 8, 9, 10, my heart continues to soar from one memory to another.

When I was 11-years-old I sat in a church pew, and my Father reached out his hand and embraced me. He adopted me as his child, giving me a home in his kingdom, promising to never leave my side.

I became a rebellious teenager, seeking favour in people who did not respect my Father. I trampled on the love of my Dad, rejecting him as each day went by. My heart turned cold and I stopped hearing his soft words spoken to my heart.

One morning I woke up and I longed for my Father’s embrace more than anything, with tears streaming down my face I ran to him, begging for forgiveness. He lifted me up in his arms, wiping away my tears and laughing with joy at my return. My Father never left my side. He was there with every wrong turn I made, protecting me from harm, healing me from hurt, and giving me every grace I could imagine.

On August 9, 2009 my Father, and my God truly healed my heart. I was celebrating my best friend’s wedding with my own beloved. We were dancing in the centre of our Father’s embrace.

I finally got what I was hoping for.