My dad is a hero.
It’s funny. We think our dads are real life super heroes when we’re little. Then, as we grow older, we start to notice some of the human traits. The mess-ups and imperfections are there. And that’s ok.
But then, as I grow even older, I have found myself to believe again.
That my dad is a legit hero. That he was one of the few men who was consistently a good dad. He spent time with us. He loved us well. My sister and I never had a question that we were the most important kids on the planet.
Funny how that works. Hero. Normal. Hero.
It should be said that my mom was a pretty phenomenal mom as well. They were both whole-heartedly committed to raising us two kids.
Now, as a dad, I realize that what my dad did required an immense amount of focus, patience, and strength. Being a dad isn’t easy. Not by a long shot.
A while back, I was asked by Steve Rouse, one of the pastors at my home church, Emmanuel Church of Greenwood, to share a quick story about how my dad has impacted me. While there were many good examples, I couldn’t help but think of how my dad always came home and immediately played us. I was thankful that Steve shared my story. Here it is.