My Story of a Good Good Father

Editor’s Note: Here at Hope 4 Hurting Kids, we a pleased and excited to welcome Cindi Peeff to our team. Cindi has worked extensively with kids as a Children’s Pastor and a mom. She brings a wealth of expertise and personal experience to the table, and we are certain that our users will learn much from her. Please join us in welcoming Cindi to the team.

I was 28 years old before I ever met my biological father. I walked into work early one Saturday morning, and he was standing there. He just showed up. I had only spoken to him for the first time a few days earlier, and we hadn’t made plans to meet. I guess he was anxious to meet me, which struck me as strange given that it had taken him 28 years to even see if I existed. Let’s just say, it wasn’t fun finishing out that particular work day.

Meeting my father for the first time elicited a wide range of emotions from inside me. It was crazy! I had finally met the man that I looked like – the one my mother didn’t feel was worthy of being in my life. To be honest, I’m not sure if I was hurt, angry, nervous, or all of the above.

I found a notebook after that weekend and wrote down some thoughts. I didn’t even realize it at the time, but I guess I just needed some way to try to make sense of the situation.

Here is a portion of what I wrote:

“So many emotions. How do you feel angry, blessed, betrayed, gratitude, and just plain hurt all at the same time? After two days of sobbing and four days of being depressed in my pajamas, I cleaned myself up and left the house. I stopped by a friends house then went to counseling. I finally have started breaking through the fog and depression. I’m looking for purpose. Why did God bring this to light? Why did he do it now? Only a few days later, I don’t know the answer.”

You see, my father wasn’t a very good person. He had spent time in jail, time as a fugitive, and time leaving many scars, some even with those I loved. Every new detail and secret being told to me felt like a knife in the chest. I had his DNA. Did the people in my family who knew him judge me based on him? I always felt like an outsider in my own family. Was I like this man? I sure looked like him. Why of all the men in the world did one with a past like his have to be my father? This situation definitely did nothing for my self-esteem.

I remember driving in my car shortly after this all happened. I was crying and talking to God out loud. I had been so angry about the whole situation that I hadn’t been ready to talk to God about all of this. I calmed down, and turned on the radio. The song “Good Good Father” began playing. I wasn’t familiar with the song, so I started listening closely to the lyrics. I pulled into a parking lot and heard these words:

I’ve seen many searching for answers far and wide
But I know we’re all searching
For answers only you provide
‘Cause you know just what we need
Before we say a word

You’re a good good father
It’s who you are, it’s who you are, it’s who you are
And I’m loved by you
It’s who I am, it’s who I am, it’s who I am

Because you are perfect in all of your ways
You are perfect in all of your ways
You are perfect in all of your ways to us…

Oh, it’s love so undeniable
I, I can hardly speak
Peace so unexplainable
I, I can hardly think…

It was in that moment that it hit me. GOD KNEW ALL OF THIS! He knew it ALL! He knew this road I was walking. At that moment, I certainly didn’t feel like His ways were perfect, but the words stuck with me:

“You’re a good good father. It’s who you are. I’m loved by you. It’s who I am.”

That was my aha moment (or God moment as I like to call them). I realized I wasn’t responsible for my biological father, or for any of his mistakes. Yes, genetically, he is my “real” father. But, he was just the means that God used to bring me into this world. My REAL father is a perfect God who loves me. I wasn’t just a mistake of two recovering alcoholics. I was created in the image of my God!

There are still moments when those feelings of rejection, hurt and betrayal by my family come back to haunt. I try in those moments, even if it’s through a river of tears, to squash those thoughts with the reality that God is my father… and a good good one at that!