My Homecoming
By Barry Adams
As one who has been greatly impacted by the love of God and His Fatherheart over the past 25 years, I have come to see The Trinity through a different lens than I did in the first 22 years of my Christian journey preceding this revelation.
Without even realizing it, my view of the First Person in the Triune God was shaped more by my own earthly father experience rather than the Father that Jesus revealed during His life on earth. But there is a saying… 'You don’t know what you don't know' and that applied to all the assumptions I made of God's Fatherheart that were forged in the pain of me growing up with a dad who was quite hurt when he was growing up.
Once I began to realize that my paradigm of what a father was like was truly distorted and didn’t accurately reflect the image of God revealed in Jesus' life, I could for the first time in my 22 years of being a Christian, turn my heart towards home.
My homecoming found its ultimate expression in an embrace of a man named Jack Winter who was a champion of the Father’s love to a generation. Before he gave me a hug that changed my life, he asked me a simple question… "Barry, tell me about your relationship with your dad".
In that moment, a very painful memory came to mind where I was hurt by my dad and that memory resurfaced many other memories that completely overwhelmed me. It was as if Jack's question triggered a response deep within me that reconnected me with my lifelong vain pursuit of needing my father’s affirmation and affection.
Jack then asked me another question. He said, "Can you be a little boy that needs to be loved?"
It wasn’t like I had to try to be a little boy in response to Jack's question. It was as if these painful memories actually became the bridge to the little boy inside of me that was there all along. In that moment, I began to sob uncontrollably, feeling a weight of devastation and disappointment that I wasn’t even aware was there in the core of my being.
In hindsight, I think I did my best to mask my 37 years of not feeling loved like I needed to be loved, by living a life of performance and achievement where I secretly hoped that one day, if I worked hard enough, I would receive the love that I had so desperately craved.
As early as I can remember, I did my absolute best to make my dad happy which seemed hard to do. For my dad wasn’t a happy man, largely because of the pain he experienced growing up with an emotionally disconnected, critical father and a bitter mother who ultimately disowned him.
It wasn’t my dad's fault that he was the way he was. I’m sure he did his very best to love me the best way he knew how, but as the saying goes… 'You can only give away that which you first received'. But what my dad received in his formative years caused him to become an alcoholic while he was still a teenager who was angry and withdrawn.
As early as I can remember, I tried to get my dad's attention through performance. Mixed between a desire to have his affirmation and a fear of his angry disapproval, I would do my best to excel at everything I could. When I would bring home a good report card from school, it was in the hope that I would hear in the very depth of my heart, the words 'Well done son, I love you and am so proud of you.'
While I'm sure my dad did his best to show his approval, (he used to give me 25 cents for an 'A' and 10 cents for a 'B'), the one thing I was really longing for, he was simply unable to give me. And that was because it was never given to him.
Here is just one example of the dynamics between me and my dad…My dad was a blue belt in judo when he suffered an injury in a judo demonstration that prevented him from continuing in the sport. He then transferred his own personal passion for judo onto both me and my big brother with the hopes that we would be an extension of his own ambitions.
After building a dojo (judo training area) in our basement, he then began a rigorous training program of what seemed like endless repetition of exercises and techniques that would prepare us to fight in judo tournaments.
I was 7 at the time and my brother was 10. I really don’t think either of us had the competitive fires needed to fight opponents in order to beat them, but we had an even greater motivation. …And that was the love of our dad.
Every time I went on a judo mat to fight an opponent, it was never for the love of the sport. It as always for the love of my father. And when I would lose a match, sometimes I would cry. Not because I was a poor sport, but because I felt like I let my dad down.
This motivation caused both me and my brother to rapidly advance in judo because we could not emotionally afford to lose. As a result of this drive to please my dad, I received my junior brown belt at 11 years of age. But the sad reality was no matter how many trophies I won, the love I was looking for was always just beyond my grasp.
This unhealthy need to achieve affected every area of my life. Academics, sports, my career in the newspaper business and even my church involvement. After becoming a Christian at 15 years of age, I became a highly motivated worker bee in my 'Kingdom pursuits' which made me very useful in any church or ministry organization I was involved with.
After 7 different job promotions and reaching the highest level position I could attain in the newspaper I worked for, I ended up leaving my advertising career after 19 years and ended up in full time pastoral ministry. I didn’t realize it at the time, but my relentless search for affirmation led me to a place where I thought that becoming a pastor might at long last, make God happy with me and thus I would earn His approval.
I knew I had performance issues all my life but I think I hoped that giving myself 24/7 to ministry might somehow lead me to a greater sense of peace in this new role. Unfortunately though, it had the opposite effect. Since the expansion of God's Kingdom is never ending, and the needs of the church felt the same way, my performance issues didn’t subside, they went through the roof!
Now what was I to do? My response was to keep working. Keep praying. Keep doing, doing, doing with the hopes that one day I would finally be able to do enough… but that day never came in the performance-based grid of what I assumed would make God happy.
Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I was making assumptions about the Fatherhood of God that were based on my own broken father experiences, but that is what I was doing.
Then in October 1997, I went to a Catch the Fire conference in Toronto where there was a special invitation for pastors to come forward and receive prayer. Before I became a pastor, I always resented this type of special treatment for those in ministry and didn’t think it was fair. But now, I realized that pastors need all the prayer they can get, so I rushed forward to the front with the hopes that maybe God would work through one of the conference speakers to sort out all my performance issues.
It was as if God was speaking to every conference speaker not to pray with me as they would pray for people all around me but then go on to others. As my faith began to nosedive because no one was praying for me, a young man probably no older than 20 came up to me and he put his hand on my shoulder.
He said, 'I see this picture of you as a little baby and you are in your mother's womb. And God is your Father, and right now He is re-attaching your umbilical cord to Himself'. When this young man prayed this prayer, I didn’t feel a thing but I thanked him and went back to my seat.
As I sat down, it was like the penny dropped in my soul and I was finally able to realize what the source was of my over the top drivenness all my life. I was looking for the love of a father. And more specifically, I was looking for the love of my Heavenly Father.
And so that began a new season in my life where what I would call my 'Father hunger' was leading me to go to every meeting where the topic was to know God as Father. The next month I attended a Father Loves You conference at the same church in Toronto where I had a chance to hear this man named Jack Winter as he shared about the love of the Father.
At the end of one of his sessions, he invited a young woman to come on stage so he could demonstrate how he prays for people. This young woman never knew her biological father, and as she wept telling Jack that, he took her into his arms and gently prayed for her to receive a hug from her Heavenly Dad.
As I watched this take place along with the thousands of people that were present at this conference, I wished for something. It wasn’t a prayer but only a secret wish in my heart that my Abba was listening to. With a sigh, I wished that Jack Winter would do that for me, but it simply could not be possible with so many people in attendance.
I left that conference with my Father hunger still in tact and my search continued. 7 months later, friends of mine invited me to attend a men's retreat in North Bay, Ontario, where two men would be speaking on the Fatherheart of God. These two men were Jack Winter and James Jordan.
And even though I had forgotten my wish to have Jack Winter give me a hug, God didn’t forget. In the last evening meeting of this men's retreat, Jack was looking for a ‘Guinea pig' to demonstrate to the rest of the men in attendance how he prayed for people.
My friend who invited me to this event then asked me if I was okay for Jack to pray for me in front of all the other guys. I said 'yes' without giving much thought to it and I found myself standing beside Jack facing all of the men at the retreat.
After asking me about my dad and then asking me if I could be a little boy that needs to be loved, he invited me to wrap my arms around his neck like I would hug a father. Before Jack could put his customary dish towel on his shoulder, I wrapped my arms around his neck, all the while sobbing like a little boy.
Jack prayed a simple prayer… 'Father, make my arms your arms for your son because he has never known a father like you'. It was like wave upon wave of liquid love began to pour into this brokenhearted little boy. And in that moment, I didn’t feel like I was in the arms of Jack Winter, but for the first time in my life, I felt like I was in the loving arms of my Heavenly Father.
After our extended embrace, I told Jack that for the first time in my 22 years as a Christian, I realized why Jesus died on a cross for me. It was so that His Father could become my Father. And I now knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, this is what I was created for… To be a much loved son of Almighty God.
When I got home from the men’s retreat, I told my wife what had happened and I passed on to her, the same hug that I received through Jack Winter.
That was 25 years ago and our lives haven’t been the same since.
Without even realizing it, my view of the First Person in the Triune God was shaped more by my own earthly father experience rather than the Father that Jesus revealed during His life on earth. But there is a saying… 'You don’t know what you don't know' and that applied to all the assumptions I made of God's Fatherheart that were forged in the pain of me growing up with a dad who was quite hurt when he was growing up.
Once I began to realize that my paradigm of what a father was like was truly distorted and didn’t accurately reflect the image of God revealed in Jesus' life, I could for the first time in my 22 years of being a Christian, turn my heart towards home.
My homecoming found its ultimate expression in an embrace of a man named Jack Winter who was a champion of the Father’s love to a generation. Before he gave me a hug that changed my life, he asked me a simple question… "Barry, tell me about your relationship with your dad".
In that moment, a very painful memory came to mind where I was hurt by my dad and that memory resurfaced many other memories that completely overwhelmed me. It was as if Jack's question triggered a response deep within me that reconnected me with my lifelong vain pursuit of needing my father’s affirmation and affection.
Jack then asked me another question. He said, "Can you be a little boy that needs to be loved?"
It wasn’t like I had to try to be a little boy in response to Jack's question. It was as if these painful memories actually became the bridge to the little boy inside of me that was there all along. In that moment, I began to sob uncontrollably, feeling a weight of devastation and disappointment that I wasn’t even aware was there in the core of my being.
In hindsight, I think I did my best to mask my 37 years of not feeling loved like I needed to be loved, by living a life of performance and achievement where I secretly hoped that one day, if I worked hard enough, I would receive the love that I had so desperately craved.
As early as I can remember, I did my absolute best to make my dad happy which seemed hard to do. For my dad wasn’t a happy man, largely because of the pain he experienced growing up with an emotionally disconnected, critical father and a bitter mother who ultimately disowned him.
It wasn’t my dad's fault that he was the way he was. I’m sure he did his very best to love me the best way he knew how, but as the saying goes… 'You can only give away that which you first received'. But what my dad received in his formative years caused him to become an alcoholic while he was still a teenager who was angry and withdrawn.
As early as I can remember, I tried to get my dad's attention through performance. Mixed between a desire to have his affirmation and a fear of his angry disapproval, I would do my best to excel at everything I could. When I would bring home a good report card from school, it was in the hope that I would hear in the very depth of my heart, the words 'Well done son, I love you and am so proud of you.'
While I'm sure my dad did his best to show his approval, (he used to give me 25 cents for an 'A' and 10 cents for a 'B'), the one thing I was really longing for, he was simply unable to give me. And that was because it was never given to him.
Here is just one example of the dynamics between me and my dad…My dad was a blue belt in judo when he suffered an injury in a judo demonstration that prevented him from continuing in the sport. He then transferred his own personal passion for judo onto both me and my big brother with the hopes that we would be an extension of his own ambitions.
After building a dojo (judo training area) in our basement, he then began a rigorous training program of what seemed like endless repetition of exercises and techniques that would prepare us to fight in judo tournaments.
I was 7 at the time and my brother was 10. I really don’t think either of us had the competitive fires needed to fight opponents in order to beat them, but we had an even greater motivation. …And that was the love of our dad.
Every time I went on a judo mat to fight an opponent, it was never for the love of the sport. It as always for the love of my father. And when I would lose a match, sometimes I would cry. Not because I was a poor sport, but because I felt like I let my dad down.
This motivation caused both me and my brother to rapidly advance in judo because we could not emotionally afford to lose. As a result of this drive to please my dad, I received my junior brown belt at 11 years of age. But the sad reality was no matter how many trophies I won, the love I was looking for was always just beyond my grasp.
This unhealthy need to achieve affected every area of my life. Academics, sports, my career in the newspaper business and even my church involvement. After becoming a Christian at 15 years of age, I became a highly motivated worker bee in my 'Kingdom pursuits' which made me very useful in any church or ministry organization I was involved with.
After 7 different job promotions and reaching the highest level position I could attain in the newspaper I worked for, I ended up leaving my advertising career after 19 years and ended up in full time pastoral ministry. I didn’t realize it at the time, but my relentless search for affirmation led me to a place where I thought that becoming a pastor might at long last, make God happy with me and thus I would earn His approval.
I knew I had performance issues all my life but I think I hoped that giving myself 24/7 to ministry might somehow lead me to a greater sense of peace in this new role. Unfortunately though, it had the opposite effect. Since the expansion of God's Kingdom is never ending, and the needs of the church felt the same way, my performance issues didn’t subside, they went through the roof!
Now what was I to do? My response was to keep working. Keep praying. Keep doing, doing, doing with the hopes that one day I would finally be able to do enough… but that day never came in the performance-based grid of what I assumed would make God happy.
Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I was making assumptions about the Fatherhood of God that were based on my own broken father experiences, but that is what I was doing.
Then in October 1997, I went to a Catch the Fire conference in Toronto where there was a special invitation for pastors to come forward and receive prayer. Before I became a pastor, I always resented this type of special treatment for those in ministry and didn’t think it was fair. But now, I realized that pastors need all the prayer they can get, so I rushed forward to the front with the hopes that maybe God would work through one of the conference speakers to sort out all my performance issues.
It was as if God was speaking to every conference speaker not to pray with me as they would pray for people all around me but then go on to others. As my faith began to nosedive because no one was praying for me, a young man probably no older than 20 came up to me and he put his hand on my shoulder.
He said, 'I see this picture of you as a little baby and you are in your mother's womb. And God is your Father, and right now He is re-attaching your umbilical cord to Himself'. When this young man prayed this prayer, I didn’t feel a thing but I thanked him and went back to my seat.
As I sat down, it was like the penny dropped in my soul and I was finally able to realize what the source was of my over the top drivenness all my life. I was looking for the love of a father. And more specifically, I was looking for the love of my Heavenly Father.
And so that began a new season in my life where what I would call my 'Father hunger' was leading me to go to every meeting where the topic was to know God as Father. The next month I attended a Father Loves You conference at the same church in Toronto where I had a chance to hear this man named Jack Winter as he shared about the love of the Father.
At the end of one of his sessions, he invited a young woman to come on stage so he could demonstrate how he prays for people. This young woman never knew her biological father, and as she wept telling Jack that, he took her into his arms and gently prayed for her to receive a hug from her Heavenly Dad.
As I watched this take place along with the thousands of people that were present at this conference, I wished for something. It wasn’t a prayer but only a secret wish in my heart that my Abba was listening to. With a sigh, I wished that Jack Winter would do that for me, but it simply could not be possible with so many people in attendance.
I left that conference with my Father hunger still in tact and my search continued. 7 months later, friends of mine invited me to attend a men's retreat in North Bay, Ontario, where two men would be speaking on the Fatherheart of God. These two men were Jack Winter and James Jordan.
And even though I had forgotten my wish to have Jack Winter give me a hug, God didn’t forget. In the last evening meeting of this men's retreat, Jack was looking for a ‘Guinea pig' to demonstrate to the rest of the men in attendance how he prayed for people.
My friend who invited me to this event then asked me if I was okay for Jack to pray for me in front of all the other guys. I said 'yes' without giving much thought to it and I found myself standing beside Jack facing all of the men at the retreat.
After asking me about my dad and then asking me if I could be a little boy that needs to be loved, he invited me to wrap my arms around his neck like I would hug a father. Before Jack could put his customary dish towel on his shoulder, I wrapped my arms around his neck, all the while sobbing like a little boy.
Jack prayed a simple prayer… 'Father, make my arms your arms for your son because he has never known a father like you'. It was like wave upon wave of liquid love began to pour into this brokenhearted little boy. And in that moment, I didn’t feel like I was in the arms of Jack Winter, but for the first time in my life, I felt like I was in the loving arms of my Heavenly Father.
After our extended embrace, I told Jack that for the first time in my 22 years as a Christian, I realized why Jesus died on a cross for me. It was so that His Father could become my Father. And I now knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, this is what I was created for… To be a much loved son of Almighty God.
When I got home from the men’s retreat, I told my wife what had happened and I passed on to her, the same hug that I received through Jack Winter.
That was 25 years ago and our lives haven’t been the same since.