Sunday, June 16, 2013
After the age of 14, he was absent from my life. He went his own way, abandoning me, my mom and my three siblings.
It was a selfish thing to do.
I was mad at him for many years, at times I even hated him.
It wasn't until I received a call from my aunt telling me my dad was dying that my heart began to soften toward him.
I met with him or talked to him on the phone almost weekly the last six months of his life. By God's grace I was able to forgive him for all the lost years. He was 75 and I was 48.
Oh how I wish I would have been blessed with an awesome dad. One who would have loved me, cared for me, protected me and cherished me. For some reason, I wasn't. But God promises to be a father to the fatherless, and he did that for me.
"A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling." Psalm 68:5