I didn’t know why I was writing the letter at the time. I just felt the urge, so I did.
I wrote a letter to my father⸺the one I never met, the one who knew about me, but never chose to be in my life. I read it to my husband, and he told me it sounded like a goodbye letter. I brushed it off. I wasn’t planning to send it, and I didn’t expect anything to come from it. But now, standing on the other side of his death, I see it for what it truly was⸺God preparing my heart for what I didn’t know was coming. That letter was more prophetic than I understood.
Maybe you know what it’s like to grieve someone who was never really there. To feel the ache of absence. To carry unanswered questions and unspoken words. Maybe you’ve told yourself you’ve made peace with it, only to realize that when the door officially closes, it still hurts. Because no matter how much time passes, there’s a part of you that still longed for even a moment⸺one conversation, one acknowdledgement, one glimpse of what could have been.
When I found out he died, I wasn’t just grieving that man. I was grieving the version of my life where I wasn’t rejected. The version where I was seen, chosen, & loved by the father who helped bring me into this world. And yet, I wasn’t allowed the space to process it the way I needed to. The way I found out⸺cold, detached, with no regard for my feelings⸺made it all so much worse. It stole my ability to sit with my emotions because I was too busy feeling disregarded, too busy fighting the old wounds that were being ripped back open.
And the weight of grief hasn’t been simple. Because I’m not just grieving one relationship⸺I’m grieving two.
Around the same time my father passed, I was forced to go no contact with my mother. It wasn’t a choice I made lightly, but it was necessary for my healing. Yet, even in knowing it was the right decision, the pain of it has been complex. How do you grieve a father you never met while also mourning the loss of a mother who is still alive, but incapable of loving you the way you deserve? How do you process one heartbreak when another is still fresh and still unfolding? It has felt overwhelming, like I haven’t had the space to fully grieve either relationship because they are so intertwined.
Maybe you’re in that space too⸺navigating multiple losses at once, trying to process pain that doesn’t fit neatly into one category. Maybe you feel stuck, unsure of where one wound ends and another begins. Maybe you’ve convinced yourself that your pain isn’t big enough to be acknowledged, that you should suppress it, get over it, and keep moving. But can I tell you something? God is not asking you to pretend this doesn’t hurt. He’s not asking you to act like you don’t care. He’s asking you to bring it to Him. To trust Him with the sorrow, the anger, the confusion, and the ache that lingers.
I never got to say goodbye, but I also never got to say hello. And in the quiet moments, that reality still stings. But what has carried me through is knowing that I was never truly fatherless. I was never unwanted. I was never alone. Because while my earthly father may not have chosen me, my Heavenly Father did.
God has been fathering me in ways I never imagined. Not with harshness, not with distance, but with gentleness. He knows my heart is tender, and He has been so intentional in showing me His love. He’s spoken to me through my children, through my husband, through the moments where I felt unseen and then suddenly felt held. He is using this season to set me free from chains I didn’t even realize I was still carrying. And while I wouldn’t have chosen this path to healing, I trust that He is making something beautiful out of all this pain.
AND HE WANTS TO DO THE SAME FOR YOU
Your father’s absence⸺whether through death, rejection, or distance⸺was never God’s plan for you. He never intended for you to experience that kind of loss. And yet, even in the brokenness, He has never left your side. He has always been there, waiting for you to let Him step into the space that was left empty.
You are not forgotten. You are not unworthy of love. You are not wrong for grieving what you never had. And you are not fatherless.
So, let yourself feel it. Let yourself grieve. But don’t grieve alone. The Father who never left is right there, ready to hold you, ready to heal you, ready to rewrite the story in a way that only He can.
And when you’re ready, take His hand. There’s so much more ahead.
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