Daddy's Little Girl

There’s a sacred bond between a daughter and her father. It’s a relationship designed to foster security, confidence, and identity. But what happens when that bond is fractured or never fully formed? What happens when a little girl grows into a woman still waiting to be seen, still longing for approval, hoping her daddy will say, “I’m proud of you”?

During my separation from my previous marriage, I cried out to the Lord, “Where did we go wrong?” His answer stunned me: “You all started wrong, and you had unforgiveness in your heart against your father.”

That revelation hit like a floodlight. I had carried bitterness, anger, and resentment toward my father quietly, deeply, and consistently. Though many issues contributed to the breakdown of my marriage, it was the silent scream of unforgiveness that rang the loudest in my heart.

As I sat with this truth, I realized how deeply my unmet need for my father’s approval had shaped my choices. My then-husband reminded me more of my father than I realized—not in love, but in emotional absence. My father was a good man in many ways. He provided. He was there physically. But emotionally, I still felt unseen. I longed for his voice to validate me, to cheer me on from the stands, to affirm me in my womanhood, my calling, and my life.

At over 40 years old, I still found myself that same little girl, hoping, wishing, striving to get Daddy’s attention. And when I didn’t get it, I began to look for it in all the wrong places: relationships, perfectionism, performance. I was chasing wholeness in broken places.

But then Psalm 27:10 became real to me: “When my father and mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up.” God reminded me that even when earthly parents fall short, He does not. He sees. He affirms. He loves with a perfect love. In His arms, I’m not just a daughter—I’m Daddy’s little girl.

Once I forgave my father, right there in the middle of my separation, I felt an undeniable freedom and peace that helped carry me through my divorce. Forgiveness didn’t erase the pain, but it unlocked a door I had kept shut for years. What I didn’t realize, however, was the lasting damage caused by years of emotional, physical, and mental absence. That little girl inside me was still desperately waiting for her daddy to be proud of her.

Through the years, I continued to pray for my father and our relationship. I placed both of us in the Lord’s hands. I often asked God for more time, just enough for us to heal, to reconcile, to try again. And God answered that prayer.

This year, I watched my daddy turn 80 years old. Over those years, I witnessed something even more powerful—my father giving his life to the Lord and getting baptized. The transformation wasn’t immediate, but you could tell that the King had touched him.

Through our conversations, I understood that he, too, had suffered. He carried childhood trauma that impacted his ability to love the way he wanted to. That understanding didn’t justify the pain, but it brought clarity. It helped me accept the love my father could give, at the level he was able to give it.

Abba Father loves us so much that there is nothing He wouldn’t do for us. But we must be willing to surrender our will, confront our wounds, and do the work of healing. What we release to God, He restores.

Reflection Questions:

1. Is there someone in your life you need to forgive to move forward in freedom?
2. What wounds from childhood might still be influencing your adult relationships?
3. How have your unmet needs shaped the way you view love and identity?
4. In what ways have you seen God's love replace what was missing from earthly relationships?
5. Are you willing to surrender your past to God's healing process—even when it’s hard?