A Father to the Fatherless

Psalm 68:5, “A father to the fatherless...”

I remember the first time I read that verse to Haden. “Do you believe God will be your father now that your daddy is in heaven?” He nodded his head with tears and doubt in his eyes, but he held on to hope.

I wondered if those beautiful brown eyes with flecks of bronze would ever again be full of joy. I wondered how my 14 year old would adjust and learn to live without his daddy. I wondered if I was capable of raising him on my own. And now that boy with so much doubt and despair in his eyes is a young man in Kenya serving children with joy and confidence. I scan the photos he has sent me and stand in complete awe. God is so good! He has transformed my child into a servant, and I am blown away by the joy not just in his eyes, but in the eyes of the children he has been pouring into. How did I ever believe I was raising Haden on my own? Every step of the way, God has been leading and guiding. He has made the path straight and although I have failed several times along the way, God never has.

“A father to the fatherless…” Never has there been a truer statement.

One Year and Nine Months

“I cried out to God for help; I cried out to God to hear me. When I was in distress, I sought the Lord; at night I stretched out untiring hands and my soul refused to be comforted.” –Psalm 77:1-2

One year and nine months. I have suffered more than I can adequately articulate. My heart has been shattered countless times. My tears could have filled an ocean. Suffering?—it has become an old associate, one whom I am ready to abandon. I have been intimately acquainted with despair. Like the psalmist, I have stretched out my hands at night, waiting for comfort that constantly eluded me.

Yet God has brought me through the storm. He has lifted me out of the darkness where my memories tormented my soul and filled my heart with hopelessness. God has pried the fingers from my throat that threatened to snatch away my life. He has given me shelter and satiated my whole being with peace. He has sat quietly by my bedside as I sobbed through the nights, waiting for the morning light to bring reprieve. God has been by my side through every tear, every fear, and has loved me through it all. I am His—completely and continually.

There may still be valleys that I must voyage through, and misery may accompany me through them. However, I will never be alone and eventually the gloom of grief will be completely overcome by God’s glorious love. You see, I am not forgotten.

I Hate It!

I hate it! I hate the tears, the anger, the despair! I hate that my children are all suffering from such a tremendous loss. Their hearts are all breaking in various degrees of deterioration. I hate that I can’t slap a Band-Aid on it, plant a kiss on the forehead, and send them on their merry way. As a parent, this is pure hell!

Midnight finds me on my knees, crying out to God to remove the spirits of despair and despondency and to fill my children to the brim with a spirit of peace. My prayers are fervent. My pleas are passionate. I have no other place to turn. I feel helpless! Why can’t I fix this? Why do I feel as if my hands are tied behind my back and I am wrestling a formidable foe, who just happens to be kicking me in the gut at this moment? No matter what I say or do, I cannot make everything all-better. I hate this!

I am frustrated and furious! Yet, I am determined and devoted. I will not let grief win this war! I will not allow this incident to define or destroy our lives. I am going to battle with all of the weapons God has made available to me. And if that means I am on my knees all night, then so be it. Sleep will come in the future. Right now, there is a struggle waging for the souls of my children, and I will not slumber.

How I wish I were on the other side of this! How I wish Woody was here to encourage and face this conflict with me! However, this is a battle I face with God as my ally. And because He is with me, victory will be mine. Yes, I hate it. Nonetheless, God will use this too. Somehow even this will be woven into the tapestry of our lives as a beautiful story of redemption and restoration.