(excerpt from When Father is a Bad Word, by Dan Kuiper)

One day a prisoner at a penitentiary asked a Catholic nun who served as the prison chaplain to buy a Mother’s Day card for him to send to him mother. She did and, as the prisoner walked back to his cell with the card, the other prisoners asked where he got it.  Soon there was a long line of prisoners outside the nun’s office, waiting to ask her to buy a card for them to send to their moms.

The chaplain called Hallmark Cards and explained what had happened. Hallmark agreed to send three cases of discontinued Mother’s Day cards to the prison. Every card in those three boxes was mailed out of that prison with an appreciative inmate’s signature.

Noticing that Father’s Day was approaching the nun contacted Hallmark once again to ask if they would be so generous as to send some Father’s Day cards as well. Again, Hallmark shipped three cases of cards to the prison. All three boxes remain unopened. Not one prisoner thought enough of his dad to send him a card that cost him nothing.
 
The effects of father wounds are far-reaching. We often don't connect the dots that the issues we struggle with in our personal lives, in our marriages, and in our society can often be traced to strained, abusive, or non-existent relationships we have or had with our fathers.

Here are some of the more common childhood wounds that continue to fester in our adult lives if we don't get help: 
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1. Low sense of self-worth. It is very typical for children of fatherless homes, no matter what their age, to base their self-worth on the opinions of others. When a father is not involved offering support and encouragement in their kids’ lives the interpretation often is, “I must not matter.”
2. Feelings of inferiority. Children can’t help but feel lower on the totem pole than friends who have fathers who are actively involved in their lives. They often believe, most times erroneously, that is all of their friends. Therefore, no one is lower than them.
3. Taking on blame. Children cannot process data like adults. A child’s logic simply says, “Dad left. It’s my fault.”
4. Belief that you are unlovable or that something is wrong with you. This is a part of taking on blame. Children tend to personalize abandonment and reason that if only they were “better” their fathers wouldn’t have left them.
5. Lack of desire to achieve. A child can soon realize that even being perfect won’t bring their dad back so they tell themselves, “why try?” Abandoned boys especially can exhibit a lack of competitiveness and passion.
6. Little self-discipline. This is commonly referred to as “acting out.” Children release aggressive impulses to relieve emotional tension.
7. Inability to share feelings. There are three rules children impose on themselves to help them survive life in a dysfunctional environment—don’t talk, don’t trust, and don’t feel. These rules serve to protect them from feeling pain they would much rather avoid.

Ask yourself how these childhood characteristics might continue to play out in your adult life. The truth is we don't simply outgrow these destructive traits. We must find healing from our childhood wounds or they will seep into our adult relationships. You need not let them fester. Find a counselor. A pastor. A support group. There are plenty of safe places you can go where you can learn how to talk, to trust, and to feel. Healing can be found. Find it. You owe it to the people you love. You owe it to yourself.

Our Heavenly Father’s deepest desire is to be in close relationship with His kids; a closeness characterized by genuineness and honesty.
 
Adam and Eve had that kind of relationship with God. They were completely open, completely free. There were no barriers or boundaries. They had absolutely nothing to hide. They were naked and unashamed (Gen. 2:25, NKJV).
 
But all that changed the moment Adam and Eve tasted that apple. They sinned against God, covered themselves up, and hid. And humankind has been doing the same ever since. We sin, then in our shame we try to hide from God and others. We hide behind the masks of status, success, acquisitions, accomplishments.

We hide because of fear. We're afraid that if the truth about us were known, we would be rejected.
 
Our fear propels us to project an image that isn’t true. Our fear persuades us that it’s safer to be dishonest. And, ultimately, our fear prevents us from experiencing the kind of closeness in our relationships that our Creator desires us to have.
 
When He walked this earth, the topic Jesus addressed more than any other was not love, it was not obedience, it was not forgiveness. It was fear. Why? Because God knew how prevalent and pervasive fear would be in the lives of His children.

And amidst all of His pleas to us throughout the Bible--fear not, don't be anxious, be strong, don't worry--God, in His profound mercy, actually gives us the antidote to fear; the one thing that will stop fear dead it its tracks: There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love (I Jn. 4:18, NIV).
 
God's answer to fear: His perfect love. So what is perfect love?

• Perfect love is a love that looks beyond our masks and sees our needs.
• Perfect love is a love that accepts us for who we are, not what we've done.
• Perfect love is a love that sees everything about us—the good, the bad, and the ugly—and embraces us anyway.

That is how our Father in Heaven loves us. 

The word dis-cover literally means the opposite of covering. We will dis-cover the fear-less intimacy that our Heavenly Father desires in our relationship with Him and others once we experience the depth of His perfect love.
 
When Adam tried to cover up His sin and hide from God, the Bible tells us that God came looking for him and called out, Where are you? (Gen. 3:9, NIV) Think about that. Why would an all-seeing, all-knowing God ask, where are you? God not only knew which shrub Adam was crouching behind but how many leaves that clung to it.

Truth is, God didn’t ask, where are you? because He needed to know where Adam was. God asked because Adam needed to know where Adam was. Adam needed to admit not only that he had sinned, but that he was hiding because of it. He needed to own his fear.
 
So where are you? Have you gone into hiding because of your sin? Are you covering up the real you because you are afraid you will be rejected if the truth were exposed? Are you projecting an image that is not real?
 
It is God’s desire that we take off our masks. That we shed our fig leaves and come out of hiding. It is when we come before Him in complete genuineness and honesty that His perfect love begins to flow. And in that perfect love we find freedom from all our faults, our failures, and our fears.
 
Is there a risk to exposing the truth about us? Absolutely. But there is an even greater risk in continuing to hide. The truth is, we cannot truly love or be loved as long as we are wearing a mask. Feel the weight of that truth. We cannot truly love or be loved as long as we are wearing a mask. 

David, the one God called “a man after my own heart,” knew all to well not just the pain of his sin but the pain of hiding his sin. He wrote, When I kept quiet about my sin, my bones wasted away from crying all day long. For day and night Your hand was heavy upon me. My strength was dried up as in the hot summer. 

So David faced his fear of rejection and exposed himself.​ He continued, I told my sin to You. I did not hide my wrong-doing. I said, “I will tell my sins to the Lord.” And You forgave the guilt of my sin. 

David then challenges all believers to open themselves up, as He did, to God's perfect love: So let all who are God-like pray to You while You may be found, because in the floods of much water, they will not touch him. You are my hiding place. You keep me safe from trouble. All around me are your songs of being made free (Ps. 32:3–5). 

We cannot out-sin God's grace. But we can cheat ourselves out of it--by not telling the truth. And what will be the result of our honesty? God, in His perfect love, will meet us in the depth of our sin and offer us His grace from a supply that will never run out. 

To have the kind of relationships God desires us to have we must get real--with Him, with others, and with ourselves. We must not simply acknowledge our sin, but the fear that all too often sends us into hiding. 

If people laugh at you for taking a stand for God, you must remember that you're in good company. They laughed at Noah for building an ark when there was no rain in the forecast. They laughed at David when he squared off against a giant while armed with only a slingshot. They laughed at Jesus as He hung on the cross for referring to Himself as the Savior of the world.

When you get serious about being the person God wants you to be you shouldn't be surprised when you get opposition. In fact, you should expect it. As my mentor once told me, "If you're not getting friction, you're not moving."

You cannot settle for less than God's best for you because of what people might say. You must, as the author of the book of Hebrews writes, throw off everything that hinders you and especially the sin that so easily entangles you, and keep running with endurance the race set before you, fixing your attention on Jesus. (​Heb. 12:1, ISV)

Perhaps the first thing you need to do in taking a stand for God is learn how to stand up for yourself. Maybe you need to identify who or what is hindering you from reaching your spiritual goals. And then do something about it.

That may mean throwing off your crutches of addiction and leaning on God to see you through. It may mean cutting off relationships with people who, if you're really honest with yourself,  are holding you back. It may mean putting off for a time meeting the needs of others so you can have your own needs met. If it's any consolation, even Jesus did that. He didn't heal everyone who needed healing. He didn't encourage everyone who needed encouragement. There were times He went off by Himself to spend time with the Father to receive healing and encouragement. Caring for yourself does not mean you're being selfish. It means you're being responsible.

Don't let the opinions of people hold you back from being the person God wants you to be. His is the only opinion that matters. So keep moving forward. And keep your eyes fixed on Him.

Have you heard of the atheist support group that took out of the 12-Steps all references to God and a Higher Power? Of course you haven't. That's because it doesn't work. The peace that offers true healing can only be found in relationship with God.

Serenity, unmistakably, has God's name written all over it. Calm and peace at a soul-level, particularly when we find ourselves in the midst of a storm, cannot be experienced apart from Him.

Jesus once said, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid" (Jn. 14:27, NIV).

We are all too familiar with the kind of peace the world gives. The world offers "peace" in the form of prescription bottles and porn, money and meditation, six-packs and sex. In other words, peace that is only temporary. 

The peace God offers us is different. In stark contrast to the peace we find at the corner drug store, God's peace is lasting peace; it won't wear off by the next morning. The peace God provides doesn't just calm our nerves, but our soul.  

In His Word, our Heavenly Father points out that the peace He gives His children is so otherworldy that we mortals can't begin to comprehend it. He refers to the peace He offers as a peace that "transcends all understanding."  

That same text goes on to say that the Heavenly Father's peace "will guard our hearts and our minds" (Phil. 4:7, NIV). No peace this world can offer can make that claim. Worldly peace erodes our hearts and minds. It promises something it can't deliver. It offers the illusion of fulfillment but leaves us feeling more empty.

But God's peace stands guard over our being, warding off all forces that would threaten our sense of serenity. The peace He offers is resistant to attack--whether we are endangered by the words and actions of others, the false messages we give ourselves, or the reality of our own powerlessness. The world does not and cannot give peace like that.

The promise to those who accept God's peace offering is clear: No matter how out-of-control our lives are, there is no need for our hearts to be troubled. There is no reason for our minds to be consumed by fear. God's peace is standing guard.

God's peace offers us the serenity we all desire. It enables us to accept what we can't understand. It empowers us to change the things we can. It equips us to know the difference.

There are three unspoken rules in families affected by addiction:

1. Don’t talk.
2. Don’t trust.
3. Don’t feel.

I followed them religiously as a child.

I didn't talk. I learned at an early age not to air my family's dirty laundry in public. I protected our family secret with the vigilance of Marine in combat. I never acknowledged my dad’s out-of-control drinking—not with my friends, not with my teachers, not even with my siblings. It was a deep and pervading shame that sealed my lips. I vowed to myself that no one would know the truth of what was happening in our house.

I didn't trust. Since children are, by nature, very trusting, I had to learn not to trust. When my father's promises were routinely broken--I'll take you fishing Saturday, I'll come right home after work, I'll be at your game, I'm going to quit drinking--I learned not to believe anyone or anything. After all, if you can't trust your own father who can you trust? I reasoned that by adhering to the don't trust rule you can guard yourself from a myriad of discouragement. My childhood motto was built on distrust: If you always expect the worst, you will never be disappointed.

I didn't feel. Since I couldn't talk freely about what was going on in my life, not to mention the fact that I had no faith in anyone around me, it should come as no surprise that I began to shut down emotionally. This process was accelerated when, in moments of weakness as a young child, my attempts to express how I felt were swiftly squashed with comments like:

• You shouldn't feel that way,
• Stop being such a baby, and 
• You're just too sensitive.

The strange thing is, following the don't talk, don't trust, don't feel rules actually helped me as a child. Not talking spared me from having my opinions rejected. Not trusting taught me to be self-reliant. Not feeling insulated me from untold heartache. But continuing to follow those rules in my adult life have done nothing but harm me. The very rules that protected me from hardship as a child have prevented me from wholeness as an adult.

It is God's desire that we experience intimacy in our relationship with Him and others. Three non-negotiable components of an intimate relationship: talking, trusting, and feeling. For many of us from addicted homes who deeply desire yet greatly struggle with intimate relationships, perhaps it is simply a matter of breaking the rules.

We must learn to talk about the things that caused and, more than likely, continue to cause so much pain in our lives. We must bring to the surface those things we didn’t or weren’t allowed to talk about. Our dark family secrets must be brought into the light if we are ever to strip them of their power. We can’t keep ignoring them. We must talk through them. If we don't give voice to them they will continue to clamor for attention in the form of anxiety, nervous tension, headaches, stomach issues, and/or depression.

The key to breaking the don’t talk rule is to first break the don’t trust rule. We must find safe people we can talk to. People who will facilitate our wholeness. Who will accept us as we are. Who will give us the encouragement we need. As we seek to find healing from our painful past we must assemble a support base of trust-worthy people and lean on them often. Yes, this involves risk. But it is a risk worth taking. Trust may not come easy, especially when it's been broken in the past by people close to us. But trust is the single most important element in a healthy relationship.  So find a counselor. Talk to a pastor. Confide in a friend. Learning to trust is crucial to our experiencing healing from damaged relationships.

And, finally, we must learn how to feel. When we’ve found people we can talk to and trust them with things we've kept quiet for way too long, we must then be prepared for whatever feelings may pop to the surface, as uncomfortable as that may be. We must acknowledge them. Accept them. Embrace them. We must allow ourselves to feel every feeling and feel it all the way through so that we can finally be done with them. That is the only way the pain of our past will no longer pervade our present.

Does the pain and trauma of a difficult childhood still hang like a dark cloud over your adult life? Does your inability to talk, to trust, and to feel prevent you from being intimate--truly intimate--with God and others you care about? Then maybe it’s time to break the rules.

Father. For some that is a word that conjures up feelings of warmth, security, and pride. For all too many others it is a word that triggers pain, anger, and shame.

It is not an overstatement to say that the relationship we have or had with our fathers has a profound effect on every relationship we will ever have. And our father-child relationship plays a crucial role in shaping the relationship we have with God.

Whether we realize it or not, there are parallels between our "dad experience" and our "God experience." If we have or had a loving, encouraging relationship with our earthly father it is common to view our Heavenly Father much the same way.

Conversely, it is true that:

• Children who grew up with angry, intolerant fathers are more inclined to live in fear of God.
• Children whose dads abandoned them (physically or emotionally) often keep God at arm's length for fear that one day He may walk, too.
• Children of workaholic dads who wonder how much they really matter to him are more likely to grow up believing that they aren't a top priority to God, either.
• Children of sexually abusive fathers often want nothing to do God, just because He is a "father ".

The unfortunate consequence of seeing God through the lens of our dad is that we distance ourselves from the only One who can provide the love, acceptance, and healing we desperately need.

Whether we know it or not, we have a Father who thinks the world of us.

     ...Who delights in spending time with us.

     ...Who smiles at the thought of us

     ...Who picks us up when we fall down.

     ...Who forgives us when we mess up.

     ...Who wouldn't think of leaving us.

     ...Who offers us the very things we're looking for.

Some of us know the pain of broken trust as a result of fathers not living up to their promises. But God is a Father who always keeps His word. He hasn't broken a promise yet. One of His many promises to us, found in Psalm 27:10, is this: Even if my father and mother abandon me, the LORD will hold me close.

If you are feeling distant from God, it's not because He moved. He is at your side, at this very moment, holding you close. His deepest desire is to have a close, intimate relationship with you. Allow yourself to open up to Him. Healing for father wounds can only be found in one place--in the arms of the Heavenly Father.

I am not a fan of Dancing With the Stars. I guess I’m not that interested because I’m not much of a dancer. I’m convinced it’s genetic. It's a Dutch thing that goes way back. It has nothing to do with dancing being sinful. It was just too hard to do with wooden shoes.

But I will say I was at least willing to give dancing a try. A few years ago some friends of ours asked my wife and me to take a dancing class with them. For something like eight weeks we took dancing lessons. Notice I didn't say, we learned how to dance. I said, we took dancing lessons.

The reality is, those eight weeks of lessons would have been enough, we could have learned how to dance if we then regularly went dancing. But going clubbing just isn’t a top priority for us. So any dance moves that we may have picked up during those eight weeks were soon completely forgotten.

Like any other skill, learning how to dance takes discipline. It’s more than just receiving instruction. You’ve got to practice faithfully if it’s going to sink in.

When Jesus walked this earth He was once asked which, of all the six hundred plus commandments that were on the books at the time, did He consider to be the most important. Jesus didn't hesitate. He gave a simple, yet straightforward three-part answer: Love God. Love others. Love yourself.

If we’ve grown up in the church we’ve more than likely received all kinds of instruction on how we are to love. We’ve heard it preached and  taught, we’ve sung hymns and choruses about it, we may have even memorized Scripture verses about love. But if we don’t practice it and practice it faithfully, all that instruction means nothing.

We live in a time where people are desperate for love. Without meaning to sound like a 60's flower child, What the world needs now is love, sweet love--no, not just for some, but for everyone. 

Imagine a world in which people's primary theme was love. If, rather than being driven by success or greed or power, our words, thoughts, and actions reflected our love for God, others, and ourselves.

I'm guessing our cities and towns would feature more churches and fewer courts; more parades and fewer protests. Our country would spend more time building bridges and less time building walls. Our families would look more like the Cleavers and less like the Kardashians.

Granted, our personal decision to practice Christ-like love may not change the world. But it will change our world. When we set out to love God with all our heart, all our mind, and all our strength, our relationship with Him will flourish beyond our wildest dreams. If we consciously choose to love others--even when they're not very loving toward us--it will bring immeasurable peace, joy, and contentment to our lives, not to mention showing them how it's supposed to be done. And when we see ourselves the way God sees us--as His precious, highly-valued, deeply loved children who He thinks the world of--we will have a renewed sense of purpose, acceptance, and self-respect.

It did me no good to learn how to dance if I never dance. It does us no good to learn how to love if we never love.

"So tell me about your parents."

Kelly's initial thought in response to the counselor's question was, What does that have to do with anything? Why dredge up the past? What does my childhood have to do with my feeling empty and insecure as an adult?

But out of respect for the process she answered. "Well, after I was born I spent six weeks in the hospital."

The counselor asked, "Where there problems? We're you born prematurely?"

"No," Kelly responded matter-of-factly. "My parents didn't come to get me." 

Kelly went on to confide how her mother didn't want a baby and her father didn't want a girl. In fact, her father split from her mother soon after Kelly was born. Throughout her childhood, Kelly's mother didn't miss many opportunities to blame her daughter for ruining not just her marriage, but her life.

Kelly eventually got out from under her mother's roof. But she never got out from under the cloud of shame formed by years of put-downs and accusations. The pervasive feeling that she had no real value was taking a toll on her relationships with friends, neighbors, and coworkers. Any romantic inclinations she had were quickly dismissed. It's one thing to feel unloved. It's quite another to feel unlovable.  

Over the next several months, with the nurturing guidance of her counselor, Kelly was able to connect the dots between past and present. She finally identified the bitter root of her feelings of emptiness and insecurity. She came to understand that within her 38-year-old body remained an anxious little girl who was desperate to feel safe, to experience love, to know that she mattered.

But the apex of Kelly's journey toward recovery was not reached while sitting in a sterile chair the counselor's earth-toned office during one of her weekly appointments. She found the hope and healing she craved in a wooden pew in the back of a candle-lit sanctuary on a Christmas Eve.

Kelly's quest for lasting change in her life led her to give church another try. She had gone several times through the years, seeking from God the same things she wanted from her parents--to know that she was valued and loved. But, as she experienced with her parents, she continued to come away empty.

But something made this particular church visit different. Now her heart was in a condition to receive love. 

The pastor gave a simple message that evening. He shared how since the beginning of time our Heavenly Father's primary desire has been to be with His children. But sin created a distance between us and God. So our Heavenly Father sent His Son into the world to bridge the gap; to restore us to right relationship with Him.  

Then the pastor uttered four words that spoke to the longing hearts of  both Kelly and the little girl within her: He came for you. 

Kelly's face soon reflected the glow of the candles as tears streamed down her cheeks; her heart felt a warmth she had never before experienced as she balmed herself over and over again with the revelation: He came for me! He came for me!

Those four words have the power to bring hope and healing to every wounded soul. They promise to fill our empty hearts and melt away our insecurities; they calm our fears; they help us to both give and receive the love we all need.

But what's more, those four words prove our worth. He came for us. Why? Because we matter to Him.