A Question from My Son

Three weeks ago, my husband and our son came home from his weekly piano lesson. As they walked through the door, I caught my husband saying to our son, “You’ll have to ask Mom what she thinks about that. She remembers a lot of details that I don’t.”

Hmmm. My curiosity was piqued. What could our son possibly want to know that his dad didn’t feel he could answer thoroughly?

Our son turned to me and asked me, “Is my father a good man?”

Our son is adopted. His birth parents are my oldest daughter and a man she had partnered with for a short while.

Thankfully, I was prepared for this moment. God had provided me experiences in my own childhood that laid the foundation for this exact second in time. My parents’ marriage ended in a bitter divorce when I was just four years old.  I grew up with my mother and stepfather, seeing my father only on holidays or summer vacations.  Sometimes I would foolishly ask my mother about my father, seeking a tiny morsel of information in the hopes that I would learn something admirable about him, which I might see reflected in the mirror.

I was always answered with seething hostility. “He’s the devil. Satan incarnate.”   End of discussion.

I knew in my heart of hearts that could not be true, but my mother’s character assassination of my father loomed large in my childish mind like a shadow that could not be dispelled by sunshine. I often thought, “I’m half of my dad. Does that make me bad too?”

This was not what I wanted for my son. I wanted to provide him a safe place to ask questions, and also kind and compassionate answers. My son is a wonderful person, who stands a head taller than me at 14. But just because he is tall and strong doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have the same tissue paper-thin feelings that all teenagers have. I was determined to be gentle and kind.

I told our son that the more important question for this moment was, “Is my father a safe man?”  Which for now, the answer was no. However, after our son turns 18, he was free to pursue a relationship with healthy boundaries if he wanted to.

I explained that his birth father had severe alcoholism, but that he had suffered a rough childhood himself. I knew that his birth father had parents who were physically ill and mentally challenged. This led to his birth father being raised in a foster home.  I explained how hurting people go on to hurt other people because they are suffering inside and don’t know what to do with it.

I explained that his birth father was flawed, but not evil. I said these words gently, with love, hoping I had not caused my son any hurt. I reassured him that he could always ask about his birth parents.

Perhaps your childhood was marred by the scars of divorce, abandonment, addiction, or different trauma.

The question remains the same for all of us. “Is my father a good man?”

Some dads are positively awful. Your earthly father may be kind, but not “good.”   We are all sinners.

“No one is good but One, that is, God.” Mark 10:18

We hunger as children for a good Father who we can pattern ourselves after. The Bible promises we can find this in our relationship with God.

“Oh, that men would give thanks to the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men! For He satisfies the longing soul and fills the hungry soul with goodness.”  Psalm 107:8-9

Yes, my child…. Your “Father” is good! 

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