davidNprogress

I grew up without a dad. My mother and father divorced when I was really young and then he died shortly thereafter. All I have of him are a couple a vague memories and a few faded pictures. There were no times tossing a ball, fishing together, going to camp, talking about girls or any of those father/son things all of my friends seemed to have. To say I grew up bitter about this and angry at God for my predicament would be a bit of an understatement. It seems like I blamed most of my youthful problems on not having this magical person called “Dad” to give me Yoda like guidelines about life. I was fat. Why? No dad I was shy with girls. Why? No dad I was angry inside at the world. Why? No dad I was angry at God. Why? No dad And on and on… The funny thing about the plans God has for our lives is that we don’t understand them at the time but usually it turns out He is preparing us for some greater purpose. I was fat—Now, I love to run, ride bikes and hike I was shy with girls—I met the lov