I’ve written a lot about my mom here on this blog, but today I’m sharing a story for Prodigal Mag about my dad. A little belated Father’s Day ode, or something like that.

I deeply love and respect my father now, but I wasn’t very close with him when I was a teenager. In fact, this story begins in a rather difficult place : the time I told him I hated him. I promise you, it gets better. This story of ours has been healed by Grace, but it took a long time to get there.

P.S. That super sweet photo above is of me and my daddy on my wedding day, and it was taken by this uber-talented guy.