A Father To The Fatherless - Forgiveness Through the Psalms

“Father to the fatherless, defender of widows—this is God, whose dwelling is holy.” (Psalm 68:5, NLT)

“And he will call out to me, ‘You are my Father, my God, and the Rock of my salvation.’” (Psalm 89:26, NLT)

“If you forgive those who sin against you, your heavenly Father will forgive you. But if you refuse to forgive others, your Father will not forgive your sins.” (Matthew 6:14-15, NLT)

It was H- O- R- S to nothing. In a game of H- O- R- S- E, this is the precipice of victory. As a thirteen- year-old, I had never beaten my dad in anything basketball-related. And he routinely reminded me of it.

This was the best chance I’d ever had.

Over the next fifteen minutes, my dad talked trash and attempted to psychologically throw me off my game. It worked. We were tied H- O- R- S to H- O- R- S. And then he shot the ball from our front door to the other side of our driveway where the goal was.

Swish. Nothing but net.

Lacking the strength to hit such a shot, I thrust everything I had with one arm toward the hoop and watched my ball sail over the backboard. I immediately ran inside, fighting back frustrated tears. Was I being a sore loser? Perhaps. But it was a marked moment for me. Another reminder that I would never measure up to my dad.

I spent so much of my childhood trying to win his approval, to measure up, to best him. And at virtually every level, I failed.

My dad—for the most part—was gracious. But he certainly had moments of frustration, of annoyance, of “Why can’t you just do this like I did?” In those moments, I felt small, insignificant, and worthless.

Maybe you have similar memories with your dad—if he was around at all (a wound in and of itself). Perhaps he shamed, berated, or embarrassed you. These moments, over time, begin to accrue, and before we know it, we find ourselves in counseling trying to break generational patterns.

Clearly this hurt is something we need to process. And—I would argue—it is something we need to forgive.

The wounds that are not healed, we often repeat. I am not a father yet, but I have found myself “parenting” my wife, friends, and other people’s kids in similar ways to how my dad did. Interrupting, irritability, and a short temper plague many of my relationships.

As I’ve done the work to sift through this, I’ve recognized the need to release my dad—who himself was poorly parented—from some of the unrealistic expectations I had placed on him and from some of the real mistakes he made. Over time, I have had to continually remove my dad from the idol- pedestal of my life.

Though your dad is a reflection (at his best) of our heavenly Father, he is not our heavenly Father. We have a Father who never fails. Who delights in you. Who is never too busy for you. Who will never leave nor forsake you. Who loves you and pursues you with all that he is and has.

Bring your father wounds to the Father and let him heal you. The psalmist writes that he is, “a Father to the fatherless” (Psalm 68:5, NIV).

In some ways, that is all of us, and that is good news.