God: A Father To The Fatherless

As Father’s Day quickly approaches, many of us will be thinking about how to honour our dads; the men who raised us, loved us, and taught us how to drive (which, for my dad, was particularly stressful at times. Sorry, Dad!). These are the men we think of fondly and with gratitude.

Since becoming a mother myself, it’s been fun to think of ways my children can honour their own father. Last year, they made a picture, each holding a light-up letter that spelled “Dad.” That photo is now proudly displayed in our bedroom, and I often smile when I see our children’s beaming faces shining with love for their daddy.

For those of us who have had good dads; present dads, dads who were understanding and ready to listen, fathers who honoured our mothers, dads who came to every school play or sports game, dads who prayed for us and with us, Father’s Day is a happy time. It’s something we look forward to.

But not everyone feels that way.

Many dread Father’s Day precisely because they lacked a stable, loving father figure. Perhaps the sound of the front door opening at the end of the day didn’t bring joy or comfort, but a steady, dull twisting in the stomach instead. No squeals of “Daddy’s home”, only fear or dread.

If that’s your story, dear reader, I want to pause here and speak to you directly. If you experienced fear from your father when you should have felt safe, I am so deeply sorry. To be terrified in the presence of someone who was meant to protect you is profoundly wrong. As a parent myself, it breaks my heart that any child would grow up frightened by the very people who were supposed to love them most. That is not how God designed fatherhood. That is not how He treats His children.

For others, Father’s Day is painful because of loss. If you are grieving the absence of a father you loved dearly, if you see “Don’t forget Father’s Day!” signs in the shops and feel a sinking in your stomach, like you ever could forget, I see you too. Your ache is valid.

God as Father

When it comes to the Christian faith, we often hear God described as Father. Throughout the Gospels, Jesus refers to God as “Father,” and in moments of intimate prayer, even uses the word “Abba”, a term that translates closely to “Daddy” (Mark 14:36).

When Jesus invites us to call God “our Father” (Matthew 6:9), He is revealing something essential about who God is and what kind of relationship He desires with us. God is not distant or impersonal. He is relational. He is close. And He wants us to know Him not just as Creator or King, but as Father.

This speaks to the heart of God’s Trinitarian nature: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, eternally in relationship. Since we are made in God’s image (Genesis 1:26), we are created for relationship too; especially with Him.

To call God Father is to be invited into the kind of bond a good parent has with their child: one of safety, love, belonging, and trust. A parent delights in their child. A child feels protected, secure, and cherished.

For those with loving earthly fathers, this comparison may be easy to grasp. But it’s important to say clearly: even the best human fathers are only shadows of the perfect, faithful love of our Heavenly Father. Our dads were never meant to replace God, only to reflect Him, in part and imperfectly.

But what if your father wounded you instead of reflecting God’s love?

If you’ve experienced abuse, emotional, physical, or sexual, then hearing God described as “Father” may be deeply unsettling, confusing, or even unbearable. You may instinctively recoil from the word. Friend, your reaction makes sense. There is nothing wrong with you for feeling that way. There is no shame in struggling with this.

Please know: God is not like the one who hurt you. He is gentle. He is safe. He is patient with your wounds.

God doesn’t demand blind trust. He invites honest relationship. The pain you carry is not foreign to Him.

Through Jesus, God entered our suffering. He knew rejection, betrayal, abandonment, and physical torment. He wept. He bled. He was forsaken.

God is not far off. He is Emmanuel, “God with us” (Matthew 1:23). He welcomes your honest prayers, your confusion, even your silence. As you dare to trust, even in small ways, He will meet you with compassion and grace.

He is the Father to the fatherless (Psalm 68:5). The parent who never abandons. The One who heals what others have broken.

Whatever Father’s Day looks like for you this year, my prayer is that you would fix your eyes on God; the One who will never let you down, who loves you beyond measure, and who went to the cross to die in your place. In Him, may you find peace, and discover the loving parent your soul was made to know

By Laura Barnhouse