Finding My Real Father

The man I grew up with, the man who raised me, the man I call my earthly father, was a stern and sometimes ill-tempered taskmaster; or I presumed.  Even as a young child, I saw him as an overbearing, loud, and sometimes violent man.  From my tiny perspective, I thought I would never live up to what my dad’s expectations were of me.

Some of my earliest memories are from my preschool days as a student in our one-room school house.  My father was the schoolmaster, coach, and one of the teachers in our K-8 elementary school.  I saw him as my dad, my teacher, and my coach all through my childhood and my grade school years.

My earthly father was a loving, yet a severe disciplinarian; an excellent teacher with very high expectations of me; and also as my football, baseball, and skiing coach.  I felt I was never quite “good enough.”  I thought I could only please him and receive his praise if I did well in school, sports, and followed his every rule at home.  I saw a tough row-to-hoe person each morning when I woke up.

I was introduced to my real Father, my true Father, one summer at Bible camp.  A pastor named Bob McCone told me about Jesus and how much my heavenly Father loved me.  He taught me how He loved me no matter what I did or how I failed or fell short in my tasks or even if I didn’t do well on a math test!

The God I knew before this moment was a God I feared even more than I feared my father here on earth.  At Catholic mass and confession, I would be anxious and filled with dread, a foreboding, that followed me everywhere even into my future because I could not live up to what was expected of me.

When Pastor Bob spoke of my heavenly Father, I felt what unconditional love was for the first time in my life.  He told me how He gave His one and only son Jesus to die for me on the cross at Calvary.  I saw a glimpse of light, the life, and the hope that is Christ Jesus and that only He can provide.

It was only a quick glimpse though.  I soon began to drink alcohol and use drugs to escape the oppression I felt in my life and in my home from my overbearing father; or so it seemed to me.  I lost sight of who my real Father is and began a life of living in the world, a life of pain and darkness.

When I landed in prison years later, God came to me in my prison cell.  He came to me through His word, His written word, the Holy Bible.  I found a Bible in my cell and began to read and learn all about my real Father, my Father who is in heaven.

Through the years on this journey of getting to know my true Father, God showed me that my earthly father had loved me as well.  He only pushed me because he cared about my future welfare.  My dad loved me in so many ways, but I just could not see them when I was a child or even as a young man.  Although I thought I would never achieve what he expected of me, he loved me just the same.  He told me as much on a visit here in prison years ago, and how he was proud of me.

My earthly father passed away some seven years ago now.  We had made peace between ourselves, forgiving each other for the past of his overbearing never ‘good’ enough style of parenting; and my rebellious and destructive behavior.  I know he is in heaven now, still “waiting for me to come home.”  He knew Christ Jesus quite well in the end.

My heavenly Father, my true Father, is now the love of my life; He is my strength, my joy, and my hope.  I am at peace now that I’ve found my real Father.

By Fred D. Hoff