"I Believe in God"

I know this is a little late for Father's Day (OK, its a lot late), still I think the message is powerful. Read it & other similar stores at www.thisibelieve.org:

John W. Fountain is a professor of journalism at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. He was formerly a national correspondent for The New York Times. This is his testimony in the NPR series, "This I Believe":
I believe in God. Not that cosmic, intangible spirit-in-the-sky that Mama told me as a little boy "always was and always will be." But the God who embraced me when Daddy disappeared from our lives—from my life at age four—the night police led him down the stairs, away from our front door, in handcuffs. The God who warmed me when we could see our breath inside our freezing apartment, when the gas was disconnected in the dead of another wind-whipped Chicago winter, and there was no food, little hope, and no hot water.
The God who held my hand when I witnessed boys in my 'hood swallowed by the elements, by death, and by hopelessness; who claimed me when I felt like "no-man's son," amid the absence of any man to wrap his arms around me and tell me, "everything's going to be okay," to speak proudly of me, to call me son.
I believe in God, God the Father, embodied in his Son Jesus Christ. The God who allowed me to feel his presence—whether by the warmth that filled my belly like hot chocolate on a cold afternoon, or that voice, whenever I found myself in the tempest of life's storms, telling me (even when I was told I was "nothing") that I was something, that I was his, and that even amid the desertion of the man who gave me his name and DNA and little else, I might find in Him sustenance.
I believe in God, the God who I have come to know as father, as Abba—Daddy.
It wasn't until many years later, standing over my father's grave for a conversation long overdue, that my tears flowed. I told him about the man I had become. I told him about how much I wished he had been in my life. And I realized fully that in his absence, I had found another. Or that he—God the Father, God my Father—had found me.

Father's Day

We celebrate Father's Day this weekend. Well, at least some of us do. Many of us don't exactly call it a celebration. I have a friend whose daughter died last fall. Her birthday is Father's Day. Kinda tough to call that a celebration. I know of others whose fathers abandoned them at some point in their life. "Father" is not exactly an endearing term. Others have been abused, ignored or rejected by the man they know as Dad. For them, it is just as well to ignore Sunday as a special day.


Perhaps if you fall into those latter categories where you've been hurt by the number one man in your life, then I know that your heart is longing to be loved and valued by a man. Regardless of whether you are male or female, a father's touch is your desire. It's a hug or embrace or even a pat on the shoulder that communicates value, especially when it comes from Dad. How many have spent their lives trying to measure up or be good enough to achieve Dad's approval, only to be disappointed that he ended up in someone else's home?


I offer only a word of encouragement: Let it go. Remember that forgiveness is not about the other person. It's about you & your heart. Forgiveness releases you, not the other person. And remember that forgiveness is not a feeling. It's a choice. You decide to forgive and let it go. And you continue every day to decide to let it go. "I released that hurt feeling & I refuse to allow it control of my life anymore." If Dad was the abuser in your life, he will have to live with that. But you don't have to live with it. You can be free. Let it go. It's not easy. It will not come without a struggle. But it can come. With God's help, you can be free. Let it go.

Today is a special day in my family's life. It was on June 1, 2001 that we moved to Albany to plant a new church. We knew from the beginning that it would be an adventure. However we did not realize just how much of an adventure it would be. In so many ways, God has changed our lives through the losses & blessings we have experienced living here in Albany.

As a Bereavement Coordinator, I talk with people every day about their losses. We discuss the "new normal" that was created w/ their loss. Things will never be the same as they were prior to the death of their loved one & so they grieve. They should. Grieving is healthy. And in the process of grieving their loss, they come to realize that this loss has created a "new normal". It is a new sense of normalcy for them.

Like those who have lost loved ones, I too occasionally wish for the past. I enjoyed the security of where we were. But honestly, I would not go back to the way I was. I find that through all of this, we are living in a new day with new thoughts and with new faith and with new dreams. It is a "new normal" for us. And it is a work of God's awesome grace whereby He is transforming us, making us new people. "For we are His workmanship". (Ephesians 2:10). It has been seven years of change & challenge, but He has done & is doing more than we could ever ask for. And it is all because of His divine favor & His infinite love.

And if it is true that changing the world starts with changing ourselves, then my world is on the verge of an earthquake. Our lives will never be the same again. And so we reach forward to the new adventure God has on our horizon.