A Father's Love?

I have a quandary to share. My question isn't why does God not stop our pain; my question is: how can God call himself our "father" when he does not stop our pain?

Something that confuses me is the fact that one of the most common ways God is described is as being our Father. From what I understand and imagine, a parent’s love for their child is something one cannot understand until they are a parent themselves.

I babysat for two twin girls for five years, and I watched them grow from cute, curious four year olds into cute, adventurous, happy, nine year olds. I cannot believe how long I have been a part of their lives. I have a picture of them on my desk, and every time I look at it, a part of my heart aches to be with them, but most of my heart is joyful and ever grateful for their beautiful lives. I never thought I would miss them this much, but our families are close now, and those girls mean so much to me. If anything ever happened to them, I don’t know how I could deal with it. They have so much life and beauty and excitement and hopes and dreams, it just wouldn’t seem fair for anything to happen. And I pray with everything in me that nothing ever does….I don’t even want to imagine it. No doubt, I would sacrifice my life for them if necessary. I love them. My point is, I care for them and love them more than I can say, and they aren’t even my own girls. How much more would I care for them if I were their mother? I can’t imagine. I will never know until I have my own children.

I know with my whole heart that parents NEVER want to see their children in pain. I know they would give anything up for their kids in a heartbeat. My mom has, and my dad did. My dad slept in his car in New York for my family—to provide us the things we needed, and I never heard him complain; I didn’t even know about it for a long time. What kind of love is that? I could give so many more examples that prove how much my parents love me, but this is already excessively long. Anyway, I think you get my point—parents don’t want to see their children in any kind of pain, and if they could take it all away, even if that meant pain or death for him or her, they would instantaneously.

So, if God is our Father, and he is in control, how can he stand to see us endure so much pain, grief, and sorrow? How can he watch us walk down the wrong paths, knowing we are only hurting ourselves? How can he know that someone’s brother is turning onto a certain road at just the right (or wrong) time, and an 18 wheeler slams into his car—killing him or paralyzing him or making him mentally retarded—and not stop it? A woman just hung up her cell phone after an argument with her husband, boards a plane home, and the plane goes down in flames. The last words with the love of her life were filled with anger. How can God know that will happen and not prevent it? How can he watch his people, his children, endure such tragedy and pain?

I have learned throughout different circumstances in my life, that there is an unreal amount of spiritual growth when we encounter something that forces us to make a decision—completely trust God, or try to do it on your own. I have undergone different trials, and I have made different choices, but each time I grew closer to my Lord. Without the trials in my life, I would have no reason to need God. I would have no reason to depend on him for all of my strength—for all of my everything. So, I understand why we have to endure pain and loss and everything else tragic in this world. I just don’t understand how God calls himself a father if he doesn’t prevent us from hurt, because if anyone can stop the pain, he can. I’m not saying I don’t like the image of God being my father. I do, but I think I only do, because my earthly father always stressed the fact that he was my earthly father, and God was and is my Father forever.

It’s always been easy for me to have a positive picture of God being my father, as opposed to someone who may have grown up with an alcoholic as a father or someone whose father abandoned them or beat them, etc. Anyway, it’s easy for me, because my earthly father did such a wonderful job of displaying the type of love a father should have for his child. But, I still come to the fact that my earthly father would have and did, do everything possible he could for his family to keep us happy and content and distant from pain. He did as much as he could, and he was only human. I’m not saying we never went through trials as a family. My dad tried his best, but he was still human, and humans aren’t perfect. But God is. God is perfect, and he can choose to prevent us from hurt if he so chooses. So, once I come to that aspect of God being a father, I really struggle with it. PLUS, what about those kids whose fathers didn't show them anything close to the love a father should express for their child? How are they supposed to ever be able to have a positive image of God as a father? He could have prevented those fathers from ruining their kids' image of a father. I can’t understand it. I know we need pain for growth. I know that. I am a much different person than I was a few years ago. And I am grateful for that. That doesn’t mean I am glad for some situations, and I know I’m still not perfect no matter how much I have grown; however, I have transformed in different aspects, and I appreciate that.

I’m straying from my point. My point is, I understand that without pain, we wouldn’t grow spiritually. And I understand that we are God’s children, and he is our Father. But it just goes in a circle, because, like I said (a few times now) I understand why there is pain in the world (and I know the only reason isn’t for growth, but that’s what I’m focusing on for now) but, I just can’t grasp the fact of a father not doing everything in his power to prevent our hurt. I don’t understand. I’m always open to theories or truths, because I just really struggle with this.

I think that if I can't come to an understanding of the concept of a father not preventing his children from pain, I would rather not consider God as my father. Maybe it is because I am using my worldly view of a father. Who really defines what a "father" is? God does. But, why would he use the image of being our father if the earthly fathers he blesses us with aren't what he wants us to see him as? And again, where does that leave those kids who don't have good, positive images of a father? I don't doubt God's unfailing, unconditional, eternal love for us for one second, it's just hard for me to understand his love as being a father's love. Maybe I'm not making sense. I know what I am trying to say, but I can't figure out how to put it into words.

Anyhow, like I said, if that is how it is going to be, if I don't come to an understanding of a father allowing his children to hurt when he contains all the power in the world to avert it, I think I will discard the image of God being my father. Is that wrong? Does he want us to view him as our father? He will still be the same awesome, loving, powerful, indescribable God that I believe and know he is now, but I just won't consider him my father. Is there any scripture that condemns that mindset?

This is something that has been on my mind frequently, and I just cannot figure it out, as hard as I try. I have no conclusion. I usually have conclusions, but this one has me lost.

So, sorry a lot of this probably isn’t grammatically correct. I still have to finish my Old Testament paper, and I am in no mood to review this post and replace overused words with intelligent words or phrases. I am also in no mood to insert a few commas or delete a few misplaced letters.