Related:
God: Is It Possible…

Related Articles:
When Parents Break Your Heart
First Aid for Bruised Hearts: Find pure love and forgiveness

Related Articles:
Heart Problems: A Dad Shaped Hole
Choose Your Rut Carefully

Related Articles:
Heart Problems: A Dad Shaped Hole
Meeting the Challenge of Being a Single Mom

Comment below, talk to someone privately or take a life lesson on this topic.

Not every girl gets to be Daddy’s little girl. Many are missing the father-daughter relationship that is so essential for any child to have. The following excerpt is from H. Norman Wright’s

I’d like to begin this first chapter with June’s story. In many ways her story mirrors the cry of countless daughters just like you, who struggle with the effects of a dad who wasn’t there for them. Year after year they cry: Daddy, where are you? Who are you?

My son was born five years ago. He’s a healthy, energetic child. At least he appeared to be healthy at birth. But a few days later we discovered he had a defect. It wasn’t visible. No one could see it. But it was there, and it was serious. He had a hole in his heart. He was born that way. Within a week after we discovered it, the doctors opened his chest and repaired that hole in his little heart. He was able to go on with his life in a normal manner. He’s not even aware that he had a hole in his heart.

I wish I could say the same. My son and I are alike. We’ve both had holes in our heart. He was born that way and it was repaired. I wasn’t born with one, but over my childhood years the hole was created and it grew larger as I grew. It hasn’t been repaired, even though I’ve tried. It’s a different shape than my son’s. The hole in my heart is in the shape of my father. Physical surgery won’t repair the hole. It will take something like emotional surgery or healing for it to slowly close. I’m not sure how to go about the process. I’m confused. Is it dependent upon my father reaching into my life and somehow undoing what he did or doing what he failed to do years ago? I just want a whole heart. It’s too bad there are no heart transplants for this kind of disorder.

There are many daughters walking around with a hole in their heart in the shape of their father. They are missing something from their father that should have been given. Or he responded to them in ways that were way beyond what any daughter should have to endure. Or he simply vanished one day from their lives and hasn’t reappeared. Any of these experiences can create a hole that seemingly cannot be filled by anything else. If you think you are alone, that your pain is unique to you and your family, I hope that this book will show you that this is not true. Listen in as other adult daughters share how their dads influenced them–sometimes positively and sometimes negatively–far beyond their childhood years.

• My relationship with my father was incomplete, guarded, confusing, and sad. He was an intelligent, funny, deep, and personally likable man when sober, and an explosive, unpredictable, abusive, angry, pathetic, destructive shell of a man when drinking, which increased as time went on.

• My father and I have always had a good relationship. He has always held high standards, but they were never unreasonable. I hold those same standards today–expectations that people should always try their best, be polite, behave themselves, and make something of themselves, but also not to allow ambition to get in the way of happiness. I can talk to my father about anything and feel very comfortable asking his advice on things relating to finances, politics, and life in general. We have grown closer as I have gotten older because we share the same love of history and good conversation about important things, plus we both have grown spiritually over the past five to ten years. I have never felt anything but good about our relationship in general, though of course there were times when we may not have seen eye to eye, as there are in any father/daughter relationship.

• My father was not available for me emotionally. I do not recall ever discussing struggles or problems with him or seeking his counsel. I recall asking his advice about a boyfriend once when I was in college. I had consciously decided to offer him the opportunity to give me advice because I had been thinking that maybe he hadn’t given any counsel because I had never asked. I remember his responding that he really couldn’t answer the question, and that I would need to decide, because it was my life. (It was apparent that he was not comfortable with giving me advice.) He was not available to help with homework or provide advice on anything like choosing classes, extra-curricular activity options, career possibilities, my interests or life goals, moral decisions, college options, car repairs, home purchases. Although I performed well in school (A & B honor rolls) and was/am extremely responsible, I do not recall my dad offering praise or acknowledgment other than on very rare occasions, and only as a result of my mom’s prompting. (On a positive note, I know that as an adult, he is proud of me and I do know that he loves me. I observe that he asks questions about things in my life and is trying to get to know me. I am touched by these things.)

• My biological father was in my life from birth till I was approximately six and a half years old. I came five years after the loss of a two-year-old daughter. My dad spoiled me, carried me in his arms or on his shoulders. He was kind, loving, indulgent, and oh so strong. At six-and-a-half my dad had a breakdown, and I didn’t see him again until I was fourteen. By then I didn’t know him and was afraid.

• The gap between my father and me is actually growing as we get older. I’m beginning to see how disrespectful and hurtful he can be and has been in the past toward my mom. I’m having a hard time reconciling the daddy I loved as a child and the man that I recognize him to be today. I’m embarrassed by some of the things he does, but I still want to defend him to the grave. It’s painful.

• My father wasn’t there for me. Until I was thirteen, he was gone from early in the morning, after breakfast, till dinner time … to work mostly. When he was home, he retreated into a book or turned on the radio. We kids were to be seen and not heard. He played music or the news during meals. Then the summer I turned thirteen he left us, at our mom’s request. She said later that she couldn’t take his criticism and silence. I was relieved. My brother was angry. He said that ended his hope of having a dad like everyone else. I was glad that I didn’t have to pretend to sleep in on the weekends to avoid his anger. When I was engaged and brought my intended to meet him, Dad refused to shake hands with him. He stood there with his arms folded over his chest and told my fiancé that some people worked, and those who couldn’t work were teachers. My fiancé was a teacher.

• Because my father was an alcoholic, it was almost like having two fathers. When he was sober he was loving and fun. When he was drunk I became the adult, since he became the one who needed to be taken care of.

• It was a wonderful, close relationship. His love and respect for my mother was the greatest gift a man can give his family. Although I grew up during the Depression, I never doubted that he would take care of me. He was well respected in our community, and I felt it a privilege to be his daughter.

Father–a powerful word. A positive word for some and painful for others. What is a father? Who is he supposed to be, and what is he supposed to do? Sometimes in my counseling practice I have heard women describe what they wish their fathers would be or had been, and my only response has been, “He doesn’t exist anywhere.” He sounded like Superfather, who could bound from one building to another. Some create fathers in the image of what they want him to be rather than what he could ever be. Often we do this with God, our heavenly Father, too.

As I work with those in grief and trauma, I’m often given a window to look through into a person’s theology. What we believe about God really comes to the forefront when we are hurting. And so often what I hear is what people wish God would be rather than who He is according to the Scriptures. But we cannot create God in the image we want Him to be in order to satisfy our needs. He is who He is, whether that meets our approval or not.

In the same way, some women will never have the father they want, not because of a deficiency in their dad but because what they desire is unrealistic and unattainable. For others, what they want is reasonable, and it would be healthier for their dad if he were that way. But some fathers are so emotionally and/or developmentally challenged it would take years of work–maybe even therapy–for his healing to occur. Only then could his daughter hope to see the preferred change in their father-daughter relationship.

The book The Wonder of Girls–Understanding the Hidden Nature of Our Daughters by Michael Gurian is one of the best books I’ve seen on this topic. In a very succinct way the author describes the impact of a father upon his daughter. He said,

A father who is honest with his daughter about his own flaws becomes her confidant. A father who remains stoic becomes her enigma to solve. A father who distances himself too greatly from his daughter becomes a burden she carries into life. If a father always finds time to cuddle, listen to, toss in the air, dance with, run alongside, coach, comfort, and protect his daughter, he will give her her the gift of life he is built to give. If a father withholds nothing, teaching his daughter the life skills she needs to know, he shares an active kind of respect for variety in a girl’s developing self. If a father competes with his daughter in games, but especially when she is young, lets her win her share of races, he is showing her both his own humility and her potential. And as a father helps a daughter enter the worlds of sexuality, romance and then marriage, a man becomes more than an arm to walk down the aisle with–he becomes– in his daughter’s mind fearless…”

If you have struggled with your relationship with a parent, and would like someone to talk with about it, please don’t hesitate to contact us today.

Related reading: Why “Father” God? – Why refer to God as “Father”, especially with all the negative baggage that word can carry? Is there a better way to think about it?

Excerpted from A Dad-Shaped Hole in My Heart: How God Wants to Heal the Wounds Left by Your Earthly Father by H. Norman Wright. Copyright © 2005. Used by permission. Unauthorized duplication prohibited.

In those first shock-filled days after I heard the news that my father had hung himself in the basement of our home, my heart would scream: “NO, NO, don’t think about it! It hurts too much!”

After the funeral, when I left to return to university, I felt so alone and overwhelmed. Whenever I had time to think, I would think of Dad, and I would cry. Questions and doubts started to fill my mind:

• If God loved me, why had He allowed this disaster?
• If God was all-powerful, why hadn’t He stopped my dad?
• If God was all-knowing, why didn’t He let me know how despairing my father was? Why hadn’t He shown me how to reach him?
• If God was there, why hadn’t He done something?
• Was God there?

I had become a Christian a few years ago. The thought that Jesus had died for me so I could be forgiven and know Him personally had filled me with surprise. I could know God? He could be closer to me than a brother? Of course I wanted to know him! Of course I wanted to be forgiven! And when, at 16, I invited him to come into my life and forgive me and change me He had done so, filling my heart with a sense of His presence.

But now, for the first time, God had really disappointed me. And I felt I had really disappointed Him too. You see, my father and I had spent time together just a few days before he died, and he had asked me questions about God I couldn’t answer. Then he had asked me to transfer back to the university at home so I could be with him, and I had refused to do so. Now, I wondered if he would still be alive if I had done what he wanted, and I was tormented by a deep sense of guilt.

Thankfully, God put a very special person on my path who would help me work through my guilt and my questions by meeting with me weekly for the next few years. She pointed me to books and resources that really helped me grow in my faith during that time of doubt. The first time we met, she shared that the Christian life was impossible to live, and if we tried to live it by our own strength, we would end up frustrated. Only Christ could live the life He called us to, and He wanted to live through me, but to do so, He needed me to surrender my life fully to him, and trust Him daily for the strength to obey. I was certainly frustrated. I was certainly aware of my sin and my weakness, and so I did surrender my life to Him and ask Him to fill me with His Spirit.

And I believe that it is His Spirit who gave me the perseverance and the strength to keep coming daily to God with my pain and my questions, so that He could comfort me and speak to my heart.

For the next months, I would spend about an hour or two a day with God. Sometimes it was with tears streaming down my face. He had showed me through the Psalms that I could say anything to Him, ask Him anything, be absolutely real with Him, and so I brought my doubts about His existence and His attributes to him. And He answered my questions in a very interesting way: He showed me Jesus.

I asked:

• Are You really there, God? And He showed me that the universe in all its complexity and beauty declared His glory, and that Jesus was the invisible God made visible. His life, His death, His resurrection and the prophecies He fulfilled were all compelling evidence of God’s existence. As I read books on apologetics and as I studied the prophecies, my doubt was replaced by a deeper faith, a more reasoned and fact-based belief.

• Do You love me? Jesus showed me the depth of His love for me, over and over. He had left heaven to live as a human, experiencing everything we live through. He knew grief, He knew pain, He knew loneliness. One of his friends, Judas, had committed suicide. He knew. He understood. He had died for me. He was committed to spending eternity with me. I was his sister, His Father’s child. Forever.But I was struggling with believing in His love because I was focusing on the pain of the moment, while He was focusing on eternity. Just before going to the cross Jesus told His disciples: “As the father has loved me, so have I loved you.” The Father’s love was allowing pain and suffering in Jesus’ life. How could Jesus be so sure He was loved, when He was facing such agony? In Hebrews, a book I read so often I nearly memorized it, it says: “… for the joy set before him, Jesus endured the cross, despising the shame.” He endured the pain, because of what He would gain. And if God allows pain in our life, it is so we can gain by it. He promises that in Romans 8: “All things work together for the good of those who love him.” God wants me to be like Jesus, and if He allows pain in my life, it is because He will use that pain to make me more like Him.

• Did You love my dad? God showed me Jesus crying over Jerusalem, pleading with His people to turn to Him and put their trust in Him. He showed me passages that spoke of His desire to see all people come to repentance, and I slowly discovered the broken heart of God. He used my pain to help me understand His pain. I understood in my heart now the passage in Isaiah 53 which declared Jesus to be a man of sorrows acquainted with grief. God loves us, and wants us to know Him, but has wisely given us true freedom to choose Him or reject Him.

• Is my Dad in hell? This was the worse question of all. I had never really thought about hell before. But I had no idea were my dad stood with God, and the question of hell was now very real to me. And as God and I talked about it, I realized that I had to leave my dad in God’s hands, knowing that God’s love for him was infinitely greater than mine could ever be. I realized God hates hell as much as I do. That was the very reason why Jesus came: to die for each of us so we wouldn’t have to go there. God doesn’t send us to hell. We choose to go there by refusing to accept the love and forgiveness He offers us in Christ.

• Could I have done something to stop this from happening? The famous “what ifs?” haunted my thoughts for months. What if I had prayed more? What if I had known the answers to his questions? What if I had gone back home? God showed me I had two problems. The first one was that I was taking responsibility for another person’s life. I was playing God. My dad was responsible for his actions. I wasn’t. The second problem was that although I had accepted God’s forgiveness, I wouldn’t forgive myself. One day, as I read a verse in Romans 8 that says, “It is God who justifies, who is it that condemns?” I realized that by not forgiving myself, I was basically telling God I was more just than He was. Talk about pride! I fully accepted His forgiveness that day, and every time the guilt would return, I would just return to that passage and say, “I will not make myself out to be more righteous than God. He has forgiven me, and I forgive myself, too!”

As I look back on that time, I realize that my grief was a gaping wound at first. It overwhelmed me. It filled my thoughts and my heart. But as I continued to take it to God, over and over and over again, He took that wound and slowly healed it so that it became just a tender spot. I am still amazed by His ability to take the worst possible things and change them around so that good comes out of them. But it is what He does, when we let Him. He gives “beauty for ashes, the oil of joy from mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness” (Isaiah 61.3).

Whatever the pain, whatever the doubts, whatever hard questions, you’re facing, the Holy Spirit longs to lead you to a place where God can comfort you and speak to your heart. It’s true – we really can’t live the Christian life without the Holy Spirit’s help. And yet, all we have to do is ask Him to fill us – to lead and empower us – and He will do it.

Why not pray this simple prayer and by faith invite God to fill you with His Spirit:

Dear Father, I need You. I acknowledge that I have sinned against You by directing my own life. I thank You that You have forgiven my sins through Christ’s death on the cross for me. I now invite Christ to again take His place on the throne of my life. Fill me with the Holy Spirit as You commanded me to be filled, and as You promised in Your Word that You would do if I asked in faith. I pray this in the name of Jesus. As an expression of my faith, I thank You for directing my life and for filling me with the Holy Spirit. Amen.