Yesterday morning in church we looked afresh at the parable of the sower, and, instead of just assuming we were the fertile soil, we were asked to think about the other seeds and what stops them growing, and whether there were any similar obstacles in our lives.
I straightaway thought about a couple of lines from the song we'd sung earlier.
There's a place for me.
As a result of Husband's interest in genealogy I knew my father, whom I'd never met, lived in the town in which I was doing a part-time Masters degree back in about 2000. I'd drive past his house and think, "What if I knocked on the door? What if I introduced myself? What if . . .?"
I never did of course. Although I did sit in the car opposite the house once or twice, just waiting to see if anyone emerged.
So in my father's house there was no place for me. And that should have been that, but I cannot deny that I still struggle with God as Father. I've been prayed for numerous times, even had therapy, for goodness sake. I should be able to move on.
But yesterday I wondered again if that difficulty, the idea of God as father, is still a stumbling block in my Christian life. Would I be a better Christian if I would move forward? Would I feel more like others seem to feel, experience more of the joy they seem to experience?
Many years ago I wrote a piece for a Father's Day service in my old church. This is an extract from it:
I can call him Lord, God, faithful one, saviour, creator, anything, except Father. I can’t call him that.
I never knew my father. He disappeared before I was born. I can only assume he didn’t think I’d be good enough to make hanging around worthwhile.
When you’ve never known a father, it’s hard to accept a father’s love. When all you have is an empty space how can you relate to one others call father?
All the parables, all the stories in the world, don’t make it real, can’t fill a void, make known the unknown. You can say, ‘Our father, who art in heaven,’ without feeling a word of it.
. . . . .
I still can’t call God Father but one day, when we meet, it’ll be the only word I’ll need.
8 comments:
You are not alone. So thankful for this very helpful post.
Thank you.
Thank you for sharing, Liz. Writing as you have will help many of us!
Can't you think of god as mother, or how about just parent? I hope that doesn't come across as insensitive. Just wondering if there's another way for you to look at it. I mean, god isn't really a man.
Thank you, Marie.
Not at all insensitive, AC.
What if your father has similar thoughts? What if he is afraid to reach out to you because he fears rejection? People do change. My father and I had a tumultuous relationship but I knew he loved me. I was his favorite. There was a time when I hated him but he still loved me. The war changed him. I was too young to know that then. He helped shape me into becoming the person I am now. I hope you are able to have a relationship with both your fathers. Be well.
If God isn’t really a man, what is He? Holy Writ shows that Gods is a male and a female. If we are made in their image, we reflect them.
I am always open to new truth. Thanks.
Post a Comment