Sins of the Father

I will share this because I know it can help someone like me. You may have come from abuse, but it doesn’t have to come from you. My father was an alcoholic, and he was cruel, to say the least. He was a mean drunk most of the time. We never knew if the bottle of Wild Irish Rose would yield a happy “June” or an authoritarian, so my siblings and I walked on eggshells most of the time. We had to call him June because he didn’t want to be called Dad.

I believe this is why I don’t know many things about men and don’t have a lot of dating experience. I didn’t want to be around things I deeply feared. I deeply feared men because of my father and a few other offenses as a teenager. My father often laughed and said he was the devil or made comments like, “There is no God.” I can’t recall anything nice being said to me as a kid. I was never told I was loved, hugged, or encouraged. My life has been one of survival.

I vividly remember when my aunt knocked on the door when I was 15 to tell me that my father had died. He was 35 years old and died of cirrhosis of the liver. I was initially shocked, but then relief set in. I’m ashamed to admit that. I had been trying to avoid his wrath my whole life, and suddenly it was finally over. I didn’t have to run away from home anymore. I didn’t have to flinch when walking past him, fearing I could be hit or lectured for hours about how an “A” wasn’t acceptable because he was an A+ student who had skipped grades.

That short time with my father really affected me. I see it now, especially since I’ve faced the difficult parts of myself. I ended up with the wrong men because I just wanted a man’s approval. I hated men for a long time because I saw them as callous and abusive. My father was the first male figure in my life, so he was the only example I had. God had to deal with my heart because it was my heart that the issues of life flowed from.

My father died when I was 15, and I vowed to NEVER be under a man’s thumb. So, I avoided men and developed an overall disdain for them. Then, about nine years ago, I got counseling from my assistant pastor. He heard from the Holy Spirit what was wrong with me and gave me a book to read that essentially told my life story. After I finished the book by P. Bunny Wilson, I sat on the floor and cried until my gown was saturated. I had buried all that pain, but in order to move forward, God had me dig it all up and give it to Him. I was told to forgive this man so I could be free. So, I did. I allowed the Lord into EVERY room of my heart.

After I wrote a letter to forgive my father, the Lord showed me who he really was. For the very first time, I felt sorry for him. He was damaged, bitter, angry, and regretful. He had no idea how to be a father because his example was flawed. He was doing what had been done to him. My grandfather was much worse to him, and I only learned this recently. I gave my father the grace he never gave me. I gave him the love I never experienced. I forgave my earthly father.

After that encounter, I began to see men in the image of God. I began to appreciate their nuances, their strength, their depth, and their authority—because that strength was no longer a threat to me; it was there to protect me. I realized Jesus came as a man, and I would need to purge my heart of every seed not from Him to walk in the calling for my life.

I know many of you had alcoholic parents and still grapple with this, but I want to tell you—there is healing at the throne of God for you. The key is to give it ALL to God. Don’t hold anything back for yourself, because holding it is destroying you. Release them. Forgive your parents, even as Christ has forgiven you.