God is not your dad

Yes you're reading this correctly. There are no typos. God is NOT your dad. BUT before you say anything let me explain why I say this..

For as long as I can remember I've relived and relived the trauma that my earthly father has caused to my life. Now before everyone starts thinking that my earthly father is the villain in this story let me give you some insight on his life. My earthly father was never loved as a child. Once born he was abandoned by his mother Domitila. She cast him in the dumpster one late stormy night and in the distance watching in the rain was her very own sister who would be the hero in my father’s life. She came lifted him from the dumpster and raised him as her own. At the age of ten she passed away leaving him as an orphan. At age 14 he entered the army and fought in the Salvadorian war. He killed many some by accident others on purpose. This traumatized him profoundly.


Many years later, after two daughters, I would pop into this picture. I remember my father being hard and merciless. The word forgiveness didn’t exists in his vocabulary. Once my mother ran to her friend’s apartment because there was no tomato paste and lunch still wasn’t prepared for him. While she ran upstairs he came in and didn’t find her. Seconds later she walked in and I remember him beating her. This was one of my earliest memories. He beat her and kicked her until she fell to the ground and even then he wouldn’t stop. She ran to the room and just like that the performance being played in front of me like a movie ceased. This movie replayed many times and each time I saw this movie my heart accelerated. I secretly rooted for the woman in the movie to maybe one day stand up for herself, but I never saw it.

Growing up my father and I never got along. It wasn’t because we were opposites; it was because we were so much alike. My boldness and fearlessness were an exact replication of him. I remember my dad spanking me many times. Some were for good reasons and others not so much. For everything that he thought I did wrong I got hit for. He never missed an opportunity. I remember once just staring at him while he hit me. I didn’t say a word and not one tear fell from my face, but even with a mask on my face he placed an enormous fear in my heart. Although I thank him for some of that what I don’t thank him was the verbal abuse I’ve had to endure from his lips. I had come to believe everything he told me was true. I was worthless, a nobody, too skinny to the point that no man would love me, stupid, an imbecile just like my mother.

When I finally came to the Lord as a teenager I tried to be on my best behavior. I didn’t want to mess up because if I did He might punish me. But when I did screw up I would begin crying because I knew God was going to punish me in the worse possible way. He was going to “hit” me. I’d ask for forgiveness over and over again. I remember pleading to God asking Him to never leave me and that I could do better. My relationship with God became a game of Cat and Mouse. I felt like He never wanted me to be genuinely happy. I felt like He was a bully and was waiting with a magnifier glass ready to set me on fire. I saw God as my father: unforgiving merciless and hard and ready to hit me whenever He desired. It wasn’t until I heard a preaching of this kind that helped me realize that God is not my dad.

I still struggle with this thought, but I just try to remember that God is not human and is loving. Little by little God has been mending what my earthly father did. Now don’t get me wrong my earthly father isn’t a bad man. He’s just a man with issues. He’s a man seeking the same things that I am. Love. I’ve seen the Lord change bits and pieces of my earthly dad. One day I’ll see the complete change. I love my earthly dad more than anything. He’s my Hero. But My Father in Heaven, well, that’s my Savior.