“Although my father and my mother have forsaken me, yet the Lord will take me up [adopt me as His child].
Psalm 27:10 AMPC
I can’t tell you what day it was. It was before iPhones and screen shots and on-the-go-photos that timestamp life’s memorable moments. But I will never forget what God did that day. It was one of the most healing days I have ever experienced.
I was sitting in Cornerstone Church in San Antonio, Texas. It was during a season when I was cautiously giving church—and God—another chance.
Surprisingly, a guest speaker and his translator approached the podium. It was Pastor César Castellanos of Colombia, and this simple verse in Psalms was his opening text.
Spanish being my first language, I bypassed the translator and instead tuned in intently to Pastor Castellanos, hanging on every word he said.
When my mother and father forsake me…then the Lord Himself will take me in as His own.
What? Really?
The Lord knew exactly what He was doing in my heart that day. He sent forth His word into the deep places of my heart, and healed me with it (Psalm 107:20)
Growing up in church environments and in Christian schools, I’d only ever heard about honoring and obeying my parents. I’d only heard about how the reward for honoring and obeying was long life and length of days being added to me (Exodus 20:12). And trust me, I was very clear on the consequences for disobedience.
I had never, ever heard how God views things when family doesn’t work out as He had originally intended it to. Those were deep waters—territory that had always felt dangerous to explore. I’d never felt as though I had permission to even consider these thoughts. But admittedly, the questions were real, hidden in the most wounded places of my soul.
God is a God of justice, right? So what if….?
What if….at the hands of those who are to protect and care for us….we instead experience deep pain?
What then?
What if the father entrusted with caring, protecting, shielding, and speaking identity over me… had instead abandoned me?
What if the mother who was to nurture, protect, call out purpose in me, train me, and model womanhood for me had instead forsaken me? What if the stand-in, my stepfather, had exploited and abused me, stealing my innocence and twisting my entire perception of right, wrong, and justice?”
What then?
What did God require of me then?
What if, when we asked for bread, we were handed a stone?
What if, when we reached for comfort, we were met with pain?
What if our search for nourishment ended with a sting?
What then?
I didn’t know I was allowed to ask these questions.
But God did.
And He was ready to meet me right there, in the middle of them.
Pastor Castellanos, with such gentleness and reverence, gave me permission to bring those questions to the surface—and offered me God’s perspective:
First of all: God saw me.
Nothing that happened to me escaped His attention. Not a single moment was hidden from His eyes. And yet—He had already made a way to restore me.
Secondly: He would take me in as His very own.
“...yet the Lord will take me up [adopt me as His child]. Psalm 27:10 AMPC
“I will never leave you nor forsake you.” Hebrews 13:5
To leave is to walk away physically. To forsake is to emotionally detach, to abandon the heart.
God promised He would do neither.
Not then. Not ever.
Thirdly: He would set things right.
God wanted to heal—and clarify—my perspective on family.
No, I couldn’t change what had happened. But He could stop the dysfunction from continuing through me.
Reconciliation was always His heart. But when that wasn’t possible (as in my case), His priority became healing and restoring my heart.
Yes, I needed healing.
But I also needed forgiveness.
God didn’t excuse the pain I had gone through—but He didn’t leave me bound by the pain I had caused, either.
He held me responsible for what was mine—but never held over me what wasn’t.
He could heal what had been done to me, and He could lift the weight of guilt for what I had contributed.
Only a just God can do both.
This is who God is.
Not distant. Not dismissive.
But near to the brokenhearted. Present with the forsaken. Just toward all.
He took me in.
Not as a project to fix.
But as a daughter to love.
If you’ve ever felt abandoned—by parents, by people, by systems that should have protected you—I want you to know this:
God sees. God knows. And God will take you in.
You are not too far gone.
You are not too broken.
And you are not alone.
He didn’t leave me alone to figure it out.
He took me in as His own.
He Himself filled the vacancies that were left.
And now, through me, He is restoring what family was always meant to be.
Linda G Riddle 