Father, Who Am I?
Many times in our travels we meet someone who lives in a restricted country, whether religious or political, and their names and circumstances must be protected. Following is a story we have been given permission to share with a few precautions taken. We are deeply thankful and honored to be friends with those whom God has set free. We give glory to our Father who has no boundaries or limitations and continues to move in nations freely to touch those seeking truth and life. Here is such a story….
My name is Eliza. I was born and raised in a moderately religious Muslim home. For many years I was angry and disturbed with my father. He had so badly wanted a son, but unfortunately, I came out a girl when I was born. Throughout my childhood, however, he did love me and tried to do everything for me. He would buy me anything I wanted or needed, I think, to overcome his dissatisfaction. However, as a Muslim man, it is imperative to have sons, and he so desperately wanted one. Sadly, however, he chose not to look at me as a daughter but as the son he so passionately needed. He was not blessed with sons and decided I would take the place of his only son. Through my growing up years until I reached seventeen, he called me his son. He brought me up in the likeness of a boy—clothing, attitude, all the responsibilities of being a Muslim male. When I was a child, he would tell me that one day he would take me to India to get an operation needed to make me a boy. Thankfully, in time, this did not happen, but because I tried to trust my father, I began to live and act as if I was a boy instead of the girl I was born to be. I wanted him to love and accept me. His pride in me was paramount.
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The years progressed. Through a series of circumstances and, I believe, God’s providential watch over my life, I heard about Jesus, the son of God, and accepted Jesus Christ as my Savior. Some new Christian friends told me about a Christian discipleship training school in another country. I could learn more about my new faith and how to live and serve God. It was a unique experience for me. However, it wasn't long into my time with them that many workers in this organization would say to me, “Eliza, you are a girl—be a girl.” I wanted to, but I had no idea how to do this. It was not the identity with which I grew up. I did not know how to be a woman. Twenty-plus years I lived with the lie that I was a mistake and should have been male. I honestly knew no other way to live or act. Words, attitudes, culture, and my father had shaped who I was.
As people would look at me strangely and encourage me to be a woman, I had conflicting thoughts. Did this mean to dress like a woman? Talk like a woman? I could not understand their reason for telling me this. I was who I was raised to be. I had always been the good 'son' and done what my father told me. Obedience (especially to one’s parents) is a value highly honored in the Muslim culture.
I learned many Biblical principles during the discipleship school; however, none so life-changing as during the week of the teaching on the Fatherheart of God. About midweek into the lectures, they asked us to consider our relationship with our earthly father during childhood prayerfully. We could often view God as we view our earthly fathers. Was he good and kind? Was he abusive? Did we hear words of love and affirmation? God desires to show us His love towards us. No matter what our earthly father was like, He is a perfect heavenly father and can heal wounds and any deficit that may have come through our childhood.
As I did this, the thoughts of my life soon began to unfold before me, and for the first time, I realized I had been living a lie. I was a woman, a female—not a male because someone wanted me to be. The advice others had been trying so desperately to help me accept now became apparent. I understood then why I had turned from living and acting like the female I was created to be. Even though I had been obedient to my father, the end result was not what God desired. I prayed and cried out to God, “God, I do not want to one day be a father to my children; I want to be a mother to them. I want to be the woman you created." This revelation was foreign to me, but there was a new awakening in my heart and understanding of who I am. I am created in His image; I am a beautiful and loved woman and a child of God. I am not a mistake.
“So God created mankind in His own image, in the image of God He created them; male and female He created them. God blessed them...”
The students and staff prayed for me, and a peace settled over my being. I didn’t know it at the time, but this was to be the beginning of a process of God setting me free from unforgiveness and bondage I did not realize I lived with.
As time passed, the school finished, and I returned home. It wasn't easy to see my father again, knowing how much he had negatively impacted my life for so many years. But I wanted to love and respect him as the father God gave me. Soon after returning home, he went to Russia to work, leaving me with problems concerning our apartment. When he eventually returned, he blamed all the issues with our home on me because I was now a Christian. To him, this was the worst decision I could make with my life. I became the enemy and bore the brunt of all which was wrong in our home and, inadvertently, his life. Once while I was cooking him dinner, he was drunk and came at me with a knife. As I stood my ground, with no small feeling of fear, I shouted at him as he lunged, “Okay, you can kill me.” Eyes widened, he withdrew and ran from the room. But sadly, there were many such difficult episodes to follow. My mother had previously passed away, and we were alone. My father and I continued to have many challenging encounters. God gave me grace, but that was a tough season in my life.
There were many months at home enduring my father's hatred and abusive behavior, but I kept trusting God. As I prayed daily, I believed God wanted me to return to the missionary organization and work on staff for an upcoming training school. This community of believers and understanding of Scripture during my earlier time with them had changed my life, and I looked forward to working with them once again. I became a member of the staff of the school, which would run for three months. In the early weeks, one Bible teacher taught on the Fatherheart of God once again. I discovered this was foundational teaching in the organization and instrumental in how we view God, depending on how we related to our earthy father. As I listened again to the teaching, I realized that I had continued to harbor strong feelings of actual hatred towards my father. I became irritated and did not want to hear anything else on this subject. Those were painful and disrupting days for me, as God began to deal with my heart.
One evening, a few of the staff and our teacher for the week, Jim, enjoyed a meal together, and we were sharing our histories. I again tearfully shared my story and asked them to pray for me to forgive my father honestly and decisively. I knew I had faced my childhood and the influence he had forced upon me, but I didn't think I had truly forgiven him and released the hatred I felt towards him. I did not have the feelings of wanting to forgive. Still, somehow, deep in my spirit, I knew what was missing from my life and why I was continually miserable. Jim spoke up and said, “Letʼs not wait, Eliza, this is too important to God. Let’s pray right now.” He came over to me and laid his hands on me, and began to pray. I closed my eyes. He quietly said, “Eliza, I want to stand in the place of your father and ask for your forgiveness." This act proved to be very symbolic. I began to cry deeply, and as Jim prayed, he also began to cry uncontrollably. It was as if his own heart felt the burden and pain I had carried all these years. Jim embraced me, and for at least five minutes, I could not utter a word. I had never experienced the Spirit of God in my life, such as in those moments.
Finally, amid deep sobbing, the walls of pain and bitterness came tumbling down, and I could say out loud, “I love you, my father.” However, I still could not utter the words ‘I forgive you.’ I felt like I could actually feel my heart breaking in my chest, and it was as if the words stuck between my heart and my mouth.
After many agonizing, painful minutes and incredible patience from those praying for me, something within me broke. Finally, I was able to spill out the words, “I forgive my father.” As silence engulfed the room, something remarkable took place within me. It is difficult to explain what happened next, but I began to feel such a peace descend upon me and healing deep within my spirit in those following moments. There was a sense God had met me, and my life would never be the same. My friends, weeping and embracing me, assured me of God's love and care over me.
What happened next can only be explained as amazing. As soon as we finished praying, and the final “Amen” was said, my cell phone rang. It was my father. I was finally able to talk to him and express my heart as never before. I could actually say I loved him and mean it.
“For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your Heavenly Father will also forgive you.”
Later in the evening, after all the guests left, I continued to weep, from joy and thankfulness to my heavenly Father. Thank God, I could move forward now in my life in whatever God had planned for me. Even today, as I share my story with others and all that has taken place in my life, there is not a single feeling of hatred, rage, or irritation inside of me. I can proclaim ‘God has healed me as I forgave and released my father from my anger and bitterness.” I thank and praise my Father in heaven for His freedom. With the help of other caring and understanding friends and my heavenly Father, I am learning to live out what it truly means to be a woman. It isn't even about dress or appearance but rather an inner knowledge of God's deep love for me and that my life brings Him joy. I have an identity in being His child, unique and wholly His. He has given me talents and a love for others, and I can serve Him with my whole heart.
Image: Courtesy of Unsplash
Eliza discovered an eternal truth. The God who created her, just as she is, loves her deeply and sacrificed His Son for her. She was created for a relationship with Him and she lives that today. She also discovered the priceless truth…forgiveness (with God’s help) does set you free. She continues to serve God in missions, speaking two other languages, Russian and English, besides her native tongue. She needs our prayers and support as she serves God in a needy part of the world.