There’s a ton of great things about my parents. They’ve raised me to love God and care about His church, and I know they would do anything for me, but tonight I’ve been thinking of a really funny thing about my dad.
My dad is seriously tough. He’s the kind of guy that could accidentally gash his arm working on the lawn or cut off a finger with a chainsaw and never cry out in pain. In fact, the only way you’d know anything was wrong was the presence of blood. (I’m exaggerating on the injuries a bit – my dad still has all his fingers, but I think you get the point.) He’s very tough, in the good sense of the word.
But what’s even better is that even though my dad is tough, he’s still affectionate. He gives me hugs, and he tells me that he loves me.
I love my dad, and I’m very glad to be his son.