Finding Hope in Profound Loss
A journey for the fatherless.
Hi Friends! This newsletter is meant to be an encouragement to you as you continue your journey of faith. Subscribe below and I’ll send you an article once (maybe twice) a week. -Pastor Chris
In the last two months, we’ve celebrated mother’s day and father’s day here in the US. While those days are important as they bring attention and honor to those who are making an impact, it also tends to stir up those who have feelings of abandonment, trauma, and insecurities.
This article is for anyone with a “complicated” relationship with their parents.
My own experience with my father was complicated to say the least.
He was someone I don’t remember meeting, probably because I was too young at the time. Growing up, I was always told he was a dangerous person, and that’s why we kept our distance. I recall being one of the few kids in our church without both parents at home, something that made me feel different, though later I realized this situation was more common than I thought.
Nights were particularly memorable. I remember my mother insisting that we close the blinds as soon as the sun set, a practice meant to keep our lives private and protected from outside eyes. It was a small thing, but it made me wonder about the invisible threats that seemed to loom around us.
My mother did all she could to provide for me and my two siblings. She juggled work with homeschooling, often working late into the night to make ends meet. I remember seeing the exhaustion etched on her face and the strain in her eyes, yet she always managed to muster a smile and a reassuring word for us. She was our rock, holding our little family together with sheer willpower and an abundance of love.
We didn't have much, and there were times when the pantry shelves were nearly bare. I recall my mother creatively stretching our meals, making simple ingredients last longer than seemed possible. She was resourceful, turning what little we had into nourishing food, and somehow, there was always enough to go around, even if just barely.
Despite the financial struggles, my mother ensured we had what we needed most – a sense of security and unwavering love. She would often sit with us, reading stories or helping with homework. Her sacrifices were many, and her resilience inspired me, though at the time, I might not have fully appreciated the depth of her efforts.
As I grew older, I couldn't help but wonder why my father never tried to reach out to me, to build some form of relationship. My mind was filled with questions. Why didn't he want to be a part of my life? Was it really as simple as the danger my mother spoke of? I trusted her completely, but the natural longing of a child for their parent persisted, despite the complexities and challenges involved. There’s an innate desire in every child to know and be known by their parents, no matter the circumstances.
I carried this feeling with me through most of my teens and into young adulthood. It was a quiet, persistent ache, a longing that never fully went away. I was told that my father was a person that didn’t use technology, didn’t have a phone, and didn’t stay in one place very long. I knew catching up with him would be a long-shot.
Every once in a while, I would search for his name online, hoping for something—anything—that might bring me closer to understanding who he was. I found newspaper articles and court records, and eventually, I was sent redacted prison records. Yet, all I really wanted was a picture to put with the name, a face to fill the blank space in my mind.
The day I found his obituary was one of the hardest days of my life.
Although I’m not someone who is very emotional. In fact when situations become volatile, I become logical and granular to solve the problem.
Sitting in my office, I remember sobbing. I had always held out hope that there would be a chance for one conversation, one moment to share my faith, one opportunity to build even the smallest connection. But reading that announcement felt like a door slamming shut, the finality of it all crashing down on me. It was a profound loss, the end of a possibility I had quietly nurtured for years.
In the years leading up to this moment, I had written him a few letters. Letters he would never read, thoughts and feelings he would never know. It was a way to process my emotions, to voice the questions and the pain I carried. Even though he would never see them, writing those letters brought me a measure of peace.
A few years ago, I had the opportunity to meet his mother(my grandmother), a cousin, and a half-sister I had never known. I was there for my grandmothers final moments and was able to speak at her graveside service. Getting to meet that side of the family was a revelation, a chance to fill in some of the missing pieces of my story. They answered questions that had lingered in my mind for years, giving me glimpses into his life and, by extension, a part of my own history. They shared stories and memories that helped me understand a little more about the man he was, and in doing so, they helped me find some closure.
If you are struggling to process your experience with your parents, know that you are not alone.
God as Our Eternal Father
At different moments of my life, I’ve despised the idea that God is the only father I will ever know. Not that He’s not enough, but that space that could only be filled by my father would have to be filled by my Heavenly Father.
Paul said it best, “I will be a Father to you, and you will be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty.” (2 Corinthians 6:18)
When I finally came around to the idea. It paved the way to accepting God’s love in a way I had never allowed myself to experience.
God’s love is perfect and unconditional. Unlike human relationships, His love doesn’t waver or depend on our actions. He knows us intimately—our strengths, our flaws, our dreams, and our fears—and He loves us completely just as we are. This assurance can be a source of immense comfort and strength. For those who have felt the sting of abandonment or neglect, knowing that God’s love is ever-present and unchanging provides a foundation of security and worth.
God’s protective nature means that He is always watching over us, guiding us through life’s challenges. The Bible describes God as a shepherd who cares for His flock, ensuring that we are safe and well-cared for. "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul." (Psalm 23:1-3). This imagery portrays a God who is not distant or indifferent, but actively involved in our lives, leading us to places of peace and restoration.
In times of trouble, God’s protective presence becomes even more evident. "The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid?" (Psalm 27:1). When we face difficulties, whether they are emotional, physical, or spiritual, God stands as our defender, offering us courage and strength. His presence can dispel fear and anxiety, replacing them with peace and confidence.
I recently had a mountain-top experience where I took the time to connect with God in a way that I had experienced only a few times. It was a moment where there were no distractions and I was purposefully waiting on God to speak. In these moments, it became clear that my Heavenly Father was going to make something out of this broken life - this string of personal tradegies.
I remember writing things in my journal that I believed God was showing me and the healing that took place was immeasurable.
You Are Known and Loved
"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart." (Jeremiah 1:5)
Whether you struggle with complicated relationships with parents or not, we all struggle with feelings of loneliness, insignificance, and unworthiness at different times in our lives.
Know that God knows and loves you personally.
You are not forgotten or abandoned.
Jeremiah 1:5 reminds us that God's knowledge of us is not superficial or distant. He knew us even before we were born, crafting our very being with purpose and intention. This means that our existence is not accidental or overlooked but is part of a divine plan.
God's intimate knowledge of us means He understands every aspect of who we are—our strengths, our weaknesses, our joys, and our sorrows. He knows the thoughts we never voice and the dreams we hold close to our hearts. This depth of understanding is accompanied by a deep, abiding love that is unwavering and unconditional. Unlike human love, which can sometimes be fickle or conditional, God's love remains constant and true, regardless of our actions or circumstances.
This divine love is beautifully expressed in Psalm 139:1-4: "You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely."
God is aware of our every move, thought, and word, and still, He loves us deeply.
Being known and loved by God means that we are never truly alone. Even in our darkest moments, when we feel most isolated and misunderstood, God is there, fully aware of our pain and ready to comfort us with His love. This can be a source of immense comfort and strength, reminding us that we are valued and cherished beyond measure.
You Have Tremendous Worth In Christ
Our world often measures worth by external achievements, appearance, and social status, it can be easy to lose sight of our true identity and value. Complicated relationship with our parents often leave us with feelings of inadequacy, constantly striving to prove our worth through performance and acceptance from others.
However, the Bible provides a different perspective on where our identity and worth truly lie.
"See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!" (1 John 3:1)
God has lavished His profound love upon us, declaring us His children. We are not defined by our past mistakes, our successes, or the opinions of others. Instead, our identity is rooted in the unchanging love of God, who calls us His own.
Hope and a Future
"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11)
When life is uncertain, it is easy to feel lost or directionless. We wonder about our purpose and question whether our lives have meaning. Remember: God has a plan for each of us, and it is a plan filled with purpose and promise.
Jeremiah 29:11 was originally given to the Israelites during their captivity in Babylon, a time of great despair and uncertainty. Despite their dire circumstances, God assured them that He had a future and a hope for them. This promise extends to us today, affirming that God’s intentions for our lives are to prosper us, not to harm us.
We are all on a journey of healing and discovery. If you find yourself struggling with complicated feelings towards your parents or grappling with your sense of worth, know that God is with you every step of the way. His love is perfect, His plans are good, and His knowledge of you is intimate and complete. Lean into His promises and allow His love to fill the voids left by human relationships. Embrace your identity as a beloved child of God, and trust that He is working all things together for your good.
Take time to seek His guidance, surround yourself with a supportive community, and meditate on His Word. Remember, you are deeply known, profoundly loved, and your life is part of His beautiful plan. Trust in Him, for He has promised you hope and a future.
In the midst of your journey, hold fast to the truth that God is your eternal Father, your source of identity and worth, and the architect of a future filled with promise.
If you’ve struggled with complicated parental relationships, what made the difference for you? What brought healing? I’d love to encourage our community with your stories. Feel free to leave a comment.
Thank you for exposing your heart on the loss of your father. We are all made of flesh and vulnerable. We need more people who are real who can empathise, and we can really only do that when we have gone through the situation.
Thanks for sharing Chris.