I hear their voices.  I see their tears.  They are hungry for a father.
The promises he made you, shattered like glass.  Words that cut you.  Silence that caused your heart to harden like cement.
He gave you a name, but forgot to declare your identity.
You wander and strive and search.  You want to be known.  But who are you?
His love was supposed to be the soil you grew in.  But you have no soil.  The water falls to water you, but there’s nothing to absorb it.  You fight and you flail and your roots drown in the same thing that’s supposed to nourish you.
And all you can say is Why?  Because you don’t understand.
You try harder and you do all of the right things.  But the more you try, the more empty you become.  Because you never had your father’s love.

Tags: Dad, Father to the Fatherless, fatherless, God, identity, name