To Love Parents is to Love God

daughter comforting father

We come now to the heart of what’s at stake in making peace with parents: loving God. 

“None of us like our lives because we really don’t like God.
But that is how you measure your love of God.
And that is how you measure your reconciliation with Him.”
Martha Kilpatrick, Why Am I?

Shortly after I surrendered to Jesus as my Savior, I began to experience a steady prodding of the Spirit concerning my past – specifically, my childhood.  I ducked and dodged and hid for as long as I could, but the Holy Spirit was relentless.  I just couldn’t seem to escape my memories, and every scripture that leaped off the page at me involved forgiveness.  So I began to recite the words, “I forgive you, dad.  I forgive you, mom. Please forgive me, God.”  I hoped that that would be enough to satisfy Him.  It wasn’t.

I railed at myself.  “Just get over it and move on!  It’s pathetic that you can’t get past this.  You’ve become an emotional cripple and it’s disgusting!”  I began to despair, but still I remained stuck.

Then one day, I was talking to Martha about my childhood for what felt like the hundredth time and she asked me, “Have you told God any of this?”  I said that I had not, and she asked me why.  Well, the answer exploded out of my mouth like a dam bursting.  “Because He’s horrible and cruel and (keeping it rated G) a jerk!”

The pent-up rage and hate and bitterness that spewed out of me was so vile that it shocked and terrified me.  Martha dropped to her knees in prayer.  I sat on the couch and cried and shook and waited for God to strike me dead, or for Martha to tell me I was so evil that I was beyond saving.  Neither happened.

Ultimately, Martha sent me home to talk to God.  That afternoon, I was honest with God for the first time.  I said everything that I’d been thinking and nursing in my heart for nearly all of my life.  I told Him all the ways He’d failed me and hurt me and shown that He didn’t care about me.  All the terrible accusations that I was too scared to admit (and very ashamed of believing) were poured out to my Father – Who knew all of it already.

That afternoon of honesty set in motion the most wonderful and terrible weeks of my life, resulting in my being truly born-again.  The Holy Spirit poked and prodded me into admitting that I hated and blamed God for the life He gave me, and in no small part, the parents He chose for me.  Until I stopped lying about what I really believed, I couldn’t see God as He is.  But after that day, I met the Almighty God.  I began to see how much He loved me, and the enormity of what He’d done for me, a wretch who deserved only death.

1 Peter 1:18-19 CJB
You should be aware that the ransom paid to free you
from the worthless way of life which your fathers passed on to you
did not consist of anything perishable like silver or gold;
on the contrary, it was the costly bloody sacrificial death of the Messiah,
as of a lamb without defect or spot.

I experienced His indescribable love and then I began to love Him.  Making peace with God over the parents He gave me became almost easy after that.  I didn’t do it to be good, or to be healed, or because I was told to do it.  In the end, I did it because He loved me and I loved Him back.

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    1 Comment

    • Sam

      This Real God once again. Thank you Jen! Thank you!

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