Why God is a “father”

My son is about 23 now. He used to be kind of small, but he started working out and bulked up quite impressively. And I work out too.

I lift about 250 pounds. Out of bed each morning.

When I was joking with him about his new workout routine, his response stung a bit.

“At least I’m not sporting that ‘dad bod’ of yours. Man, you’re soft!”

But despite what my studly son may think, I’m actually pretty proud of being a dad. In fact, you could say it’s quite a Godly calling.

Yeah, I know fatherhood has gotten a bad reputation as of late. It seems like society has focused its attention on the dads that choose to walk away from their wives and children while ignoring the rest of us who stay. We’re lectured constantly on “toxic manhood” in this #metoo generation.

And in the attempt to make single mothers feel up to the task, it often sounds like fathers are optional and fully replaceable.

I beg to differ.

While I applaud the many mothers who’ve had to make it alone without a husband, I have to say that every child is better off having a loving father.

The absence of a good father forever scared my own dad. He grew up knowing his own father prized a bottle of whiskey more than time with him. The residue of my dad’s childhood flowed down into my own life. Though I never met him, my dad’s father left a wound that would bleed into mine. My childhood years were pretty painful, mostly because of my dad’s resentment toward his own dad.

Now as a father of 5 children, I’m actually kind of proud of my own “dad bod”. I’m still strong enough to be a rock for them when they’re frightened or weak. But I’m soft enough to be a cuddly teddy bear they can hold onto when they want to feel loved.

That’s why I believe when Jesus was spelling out a pattern for his disciples to pray, the first thing He told them was to call God “our Father…”

No, I don’t believe He was implying God is a sexual being. Jesus said God is “spirit”, so a spirit wouldn’t have sexual organs. And sure, there are plenty of things about God that reflect a mother’s love.

But when expressing Himself to humans, He didn’t say to think of Him as Mother Earth. No, He said, “Call me daddy”. And that wasn’t a random choice.

When we think of a mother’s love, we tend to think of nurturing. That doesn’t mean a woman can’t be tough. Just watch how any woman deals with a cold as compared to her husband. Most men are in bed all day, while mothers keep working like it’s no big deal.

What I’ve noticed about a mother’s love is, in general, it wants to protect a child from the world. But a father’s love, while protective, wants his children to face up to the world’s challenges and overcome them.

In that way, a father’s love is more like a coach than a nurse.

I’ve seen mothers run out the front door ready to fight the neighborhood bully who threatens her little boy. That’s fun to watch…and also a bit scary. However, it’s often the father who instead will encourage his son to stand up to the bully. A good father would never let the boys go too far, but he might let a few fists fly before he stepped in to stop it.

What’s the difference? The father understands pain and courage are a necessary part of the maturing process. Some mothers might be content if the boy always remained a child (how often has my wife said that about our kids). But the father is determined to help the boy stand on his own two feet and face his adversaries.

That father knows the world will be knocking the boy down when he’s not around. So his main goal is to coach the son to face pain and opposition with confidence and courage.

Like any analogy, things get ridiculous when you take it to the extreme. God’s not a man, and a mother’s love is not inferior to a father’s. But God knew that when we faced opposition and trials in life, we needed to see Him not only as loving but as challenging us to grow.

We need a God who gets angry at injustice, and can fight for us when we need it.

We need a nurturer, but at times also a warrior.

We need a protector watching while we sleep who’ll stand up to the one who comes to steal and destroy.

We need a “Dad God”, a good Father.

It’s Saturday now, and we’re babysitting a 3 year old foster girl for a friend of ours. As she plays with our kids, our friend relays her story.

“Both her parents are drug addicts, so she’s been terribly abused and neglected. Sexual abuse came from her father, so she’s suspicious of all men.”

As I sit in my chair and write, she watches me out of the corner of her eyes. I can imagine what questions lay behind her beautiful blue eyes…

“Can I trust you? Are you different from the others? Or will you hurt me today when no one else is looking?”

A few days later her older brother, around 5 years old and also abused, is dropped off to play. He’s playful, all boy, but incredibly affectionate. While I’m sitting in my chair, he finally gets up the courage to come over to me. To my surprise, he crawls up into my lap and lays his head on my chest. Even after horrible neglect and abuse, he still craves a father’s love.

A wave of grief for them overwhelms me as sit with him and think of his sister. Grief for both their lost childhoods and their pain. But most of all, grief for the wound I know will remain long after they’ve been adopted into new families and forgotten their biological parent’s faces. That “father wound” will cause them to question their worth and whether they’re deserving of love.

And all the while, their great and true Father looks on, watching and waiting. He waits for someone to explain to them who He is, and how His love is completely different from the twisted father they’ve known.

He waits for someone to demonstrate to them what a good father really is.

Most every day, I see people, both male and female, whose anger and insecurities betray the presence of a father’s wound. They desperately long for the gentle touch of a strong hand they can trust to never harm them.

They wait to experience the rush of joy as they’re lifted into His arms in one swift powerful motion of celebration.

They wait to sit in His lap with arms wrapped around them, with no fear of ulterior motives.

The world waits and wishes for that kind of father. And all the while the Good Father waits and watches for them, hoping to see them off in the distance as they turn and walk toward him, finally headed for home…