More wounds of the fatherless - a true story

When I first met Kaye* she was in pretty bad shape. She refused to stop cutting herself on her arms and legs. Mainly she would use pins so that the marks weren’t as obvious to her teachers and friends. She told me that she cut in order to relieve the pain of her real life. She was so angry. She was angry at God, and she was angry at people. But mostly, as we talked over the next few months, she was angry at her father.

Like many people, Kaye suffers from a “father wound.” Her father left her family when she was young, took another wife, and never looked back. Kaye couldn’t figure out how to be “daddy’s little girl” again. She could not get him to look at her the way he once did when she was little. She could not get him to notice her at all. Now, it seemed, he was caught up in his new life, caught up in himself. Caught up in his new family. Like so many others, she felt abandoned, hurt, replaced, rejected.

The night she tried to kill herself I was called into the hospital to see her. She couldn’t put words to why she hated herself so much in that moment. She just felt the pain that welled up inside her. I remember meeting her mom for the first time that week, and seeing the tears in her eyes as she talked about her daughter. She didn’t know how to make things right. She was still trying to fit the pieces of her own broken life back together. Kaye’s dad didn’t visit her that week. He never called. He was never heard from. More pain. More anger. The cycle of being fatherless.

Kaye has had her ups and downs throughout the years that followed that night. At times she has been able to see the love of the heavenly Father through Jesus. She has also felt the loving embrace of a church community. She has even sensed what spiritual adoption might look like—the real-time acceptance of a Father who is always present. But she has not been able to fully embrace this reality. She has not allowed herself to be fully embraced by Him. Perhaps it seems too good to be true. Perhaps she feels too vulnerable. Perhaps that Father may end up hurting her like her earthly father did.

I keep a case of pins in my desk drawer that Kaye gave me years ago. She gave them to me on a day of surrender. I keep them to remind me of the pain of the fatherless. I keep them because I know that Kaye’s story is not over yet. The Father’s love is too big and too grand to let her go. His love is relentless. His love is overwhelming. His love is enacted in Psalm 147:3 as the one who “heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds”!


*of course this is not her real name

the wounds of the fatherless

In his book, Fatherless Generation, John Sowers uses the same stats I have seen regarding the social science of growing up without a father. Sowers is the new head of the Mentoring Project, which is the organization that Donald Miller founded to help alleviate the fatherless epidemic in our society. Sowers reminds us that fatherless homes account for:


• 63% of youth suicides

• 71% of pregnant teenagers

• 90% of all homeless and runaway children

• 70% of juveniles in state operated institutions

• 85% of all youth who exhibit behavior disorders

• 80% of rapists motivated with displaced anger

• 71% of all high school dropouts.

• 75% of all adolescents in chemical abuse centers

• 85% of all youths sitting in prison

Take a moment to let these stats sink in.

The breakdown of earthly fathers with their children here on earth is linked to the breakdown between us and God. Jesus came to earth to “show us the Father” (Jn. 14) and restore our relationship with Him. Every time a child is left without a father by abandonment, death or neglect, a “father wound” is opened up. This wound leads to all kinds of problems and pain apart from the healing that Jesus brings. This healing comes by really having a True Father who adopts us into his family.


Unfortunately, many people on this planet are still suffering the effects of fatherlessness. I stumbled across a video blog the other day that brought tears to my eyes. It was a very popular teenager blogger who wanted to address father’s day for those who don’t have a father around. He entitled the video: “happy father(less) day.” He was trying to be funny and cute. He had cutouts of himself dressed up like his mother, trying to fill in for not having a dad—playing catch and learning how to shave. But when the blogger tried to conclude the video in person, he could not do it with the same silliness that he intended. He started crying, and thanking his mom for doing the best she could to fill in for not having a dad. What struck me most was what followed. There were over 77,000 comments. Some were about him crying on YouTube, some were silly, but most were short stories about feeling exactly how he does. “I know just how you feel, my dad left me when I was 4.” “I know just how you feel, my dad left us when I was 6.” “We found out my dad cheated on my mom.” “My dad died when I was a baby, I never knew him.” On and on and on these comments went. The tears were welling up in my eyes as I read them. It was as if, for a brief moment, I was feeling the weight of all the pain of all the fatherless children, in all of the world. It’s what Jesus feels for you and me all the time.


So if you’ve stumbled over this post, and you have tears in your eyes too, you’re not alone. I know just how you feel. But more importantly, so does Jesus. He heals the brokenhearted and binds up every wound (see Psalm 147:3). But the question remains: What is my part to play in the fatherless epidemic?