You Are Not An Orphan

“Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God” – John 1:12

Have you ever lost a father? I did.

They say that fathers play a significant role in our lives; that through a scrutinized study, researchers have found out that those who grew up without fathers are susceptible to depression, early pregnancy or even end up in jail. And that those who grew up with a loving father are more likely to excel in school and are less likely to fail in life.

I could have never agreed more.

I did lose my father but it wasn’t up until I was 21 years old, so I pretty much grew up with my dad. I have a mom but she wasn’t always around. So the things that supposedly a mom should have done, were done by my dad.

My dad was the first person who taught me how to pray, I was at least 5 years old then. My dad made it a point that we would always pray when we woke up, before eating and sleeping. However, praying before sleeping was given more importance. He would kneel down on our room’s wooden floor, in front of me and my two other siblings, while we sat comfortably in our bed. Other times, he would ask my older brother to kneel with him. He would then raise his hands towards the heavens and starts his prayer with “Ama naming makapangyarihan sa lahat, Diyos ng langit at lupa, Diyos na dakila” (Our Father who is mightier than everyone, God of the heavens and the earth, God that is Great), in a very deep tone voice, the sound that he uses when he is likely to tell us something important, or when we are being scolded for doing something wrong. His tone itself made us aware that prayer was no joke and had to be done in a very serious manner. There was even a time when while praying, my dad caught my siblings making sounds with their knuckles. Afterward, he took them downstairs and scolded them. I found it hilarious before because scolding after praying never really fit together, I never really understood it back then, but I do now. Our dad was teaching us the most significant thing that he could leave us — prayer and reverence towards God. That was my most cherished memory of him, and it increased the love and respect that I have for him.

I was in high school when my dad had a stroke. His health started deteriorating; it started with his posture, his lean shoulders started to slouch, and then his walk became slower. The decline continued and he eventually could not walk without assistance so we bought him a wheelchair that he used whenever we went out. He also started using adult diapers since he can no longer control his bowel movement and urine release. My dad who was my hero, the strongest man in my eyes became weak and never really recovered from it. It was tough because I never would want to see him like that, so I did the only thing that I could. I started praying for him. I would drop by his room, and ask him how he was doing while I ran my hands down his back, little did my dad know, I was actually laying my hands on his back and was silently praying for him. I remember crying out to God to heal him miraculously in my daily devotion. Other times, I would lead him in a prayer like how he led me when I was younger. I even wrote bible verses about healing and taped them to his cabinet, which is on the right side of his bed, a section in the room that he could easily see. There were days when I believed it with all of my heart and there were days when I felt like a fool, but I continued on praying and believing because losing him was my biggest fear.

It was a fairly good Friday night, I dropped by my dad’s room before going to church since his room was beside the stairs and it enabled us to see him whenever we went up or down the stairway. It never dawned on me that this would be the last time that I would see him smiling at me. Our youth service started with me reading Isaiah 61:3 and how “a garment of praise” is a strong weapon against the “spirit of despair”. That night, we sang "A Good Good Father" by Chris Tomlin and lavished ourselves with the goodness of God. After the service, my eldest sister received a phone call from our house. I knew by the look of dread on her face that something was wrong, true enough, my dad had a stroke again. "Oh God, please! Sana hindi ito yung kinakatakutan ko na mangyari" (God, please! I hope that this isn't what I have been fearing for) I prayed in my mind while we were rushing over to the hospital.

That night will now be forever engraved in my memory, I can still see it with my eyes closed, and I dream of it sometimes, everything is just so vivid: The white hallways of the hospital, my dad unconscious lying on a hospital bed with tubes connected to his nose so that he can breathe, the hushed voices of the nurses as they speak among themselves not trying to make a lot of noise, the long hours outside the emergency room, and our family outside clenching our hands from the tense of hearing from a doctor. Some of my siblings were crying and I did my best to keep it together. I was holding on to my faith, I was holding on to the times that I prayed for healing and believed in my heart that it would be given. There were nights when I would cry myself to sleep, it was tiring, but what was more exhausting was the tug of war between faith and hopelessness waging inside me. Three days in the hospital and he passed away.

Now there were two voices in my head, one declared that God is good and the other kept on asking questions, trying to make sense of the situation that I was in, “God, I prayed every day, I believed you but why?”. I eventually learned to push these thoughts aside, I knew that it wasn’t right. I kept on telling myself that God is good and that “all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.” I encouraged myself in every way possible but I was never convinced. After a few weeks, I decided I would be fine. Unknowingly, a gap in my relationship with God was formed. I tried not to entertain negative thoughts towards the goodness and sovereignty of God. I would go to church, pray, and do ministry work, I dare not face the truth that my heart was still broken and disappointed towards God.

A few months later I attended a National Prayer Gathering, where I was a volunteer as I usually am. At one session, a Pastor started praying for Filipino families, then he started praying for the orphan spirit among the Christians or the heart that does not know or has no connection to the Father’s heart. Almost immediately I heard God speaking to me “My child, you are not an orphan, I am your God, I am your Father” I cried at the realization, yes I did lose my earthly father but I am forever a child of God. I have a Father who loves me beyond what I could ever imagine and this was all possible because of what Jesus did.

The cross did more than redeeming us, the cross made it possible for us to be legal children of God. Even now, I am still appalled at this truth. How can the creator become one of His creations and die in our stead? I have read books about the cross and some say that when Jesus was crucified he was bathing in the blood and spit of the people who crucified Him, some scientists even said that while being crucified, every breath that Jesus took was a torment in itself because to breathe means that He has to balance all his weight on the three nails that are stuck on both his hands and feet, that the cross was the most excruciating means of torture that a person can experience and yet Jesus bore it all. He didn’t have to, but He did, so that we can be partakers of His inheritance as children of God, and as what the psalmist wrote even when we don't have our parents “the Lord will take me up, adopt me as His child”.

We are the reason why the good shepherd was able to leave the ninety-nine for the one because the same intensity of love that He has for the one is the same intensity of love that He has for the ninety-nine. Jesus himself testifies “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you.” In comparison, it is absurd, it is something that goes beyond reason but it is our reality. Jesus and God the Father have been together from eternity to eternity, in perfect harmony, so it is not hard to love Jesus. Just imagine the love that the Father has for Him and how in comparison to us, the Father willingly gave us Jesus to be the perfect sacrifice and pave the way for us to become His children as well, to give us what we cannot afford. For a moment on the cross Jesus cried “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” and for the first time a disconnection between God the Father and Jesus occurred and it was for our adoption.

So hear out the voice of the Father calling “My child, you are not an orphan, I am your God, I am your Father, Jesus paid the ransom so you can be mine”