My Father, My Self

I was always preaching wholeness when I was the one who needed healing the most

- Toure Roberts

THERE ISN’T A SUBJECT I’M MORE passionate about than wholeness. By that I mean being the highest and healthiest version of the person God created you to be, the greatest state of being this life offers. I talk about it a lot. Just ask the people who go to the churches I pastor—The Potter’s House at One LA, one of the fastest-growing churches in Los Angeles, and The Potter’s House of Denver. I’ve even written a new book titled Wholeness.

We can’t choose the experiences that keep us from being whole, but we can recognize the broken areas within ourselves and overcome them. Becoming whole takes work. Deep emotional and spiritual work. As the Bible says, the word of God is “sharper than any double-edged sword…it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart” (Hebrews 4:12). You’ve got to know your patterns, your habits of thought and behavior, and if they’re unhealthy, break them. You’ve got to trace your pain—and pain comes in many forms, including insecurity, depression, anger, anxiety or loneliness—to its source. This work is hard. I know. I’ve had to do it myself.

I’m okay. It’s a reflexive response a lot of us have to anything that calls into question our strength or our ability to hold it all together. I’m really disappointed, but I’m okay. Someone I love hurt me deeply, but I’m okay. That’s what I used to tell myself.

Until 2010. That was the year I decided to do something memorable with my dad for Father’s Day. We didn’t have the best relationship. I was 37 and had never truly felt close to my father. I wanted to try to build something deeper between us while I still had him.