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Browse through the Hallmark section of Father’s Day cards and you’ll discover that every father is above average. The Bobs, Jasons, and Charlies of this world get up in the morning, grab a cup of coffee, and put on their capes before they leave the house. We are evidently overrun with heroic, god-like dads who compete in out-fathering everyone else.
Frank was a one-eyed dwarf who was raised by an abusive alcoholic father in a small coal-mining town where the unemployment rate was 18%. His wife of seven years left him the day before Christmas in 2008 after he lost his janitorial job at the local high school for smoking pot during his breaks.
We envision life as a series of steps toward independence. As newborns about all we can do on our own is cry and poop. As we mature, we learn how to use a spoon, put our pants on, and wobble about. But we’re still completely dependent upon others to cook our food, wash our clothing, and pay the mortgage on that house in which we wobble about.
I was in a seminary chapel when the great divorce between my mouth and the rest of my body hit me.
When reading a book, especially a controversial one, it’s useful to treat it like a house we’re considering buying. From the curbside, it may bedazzle the eyes, but there’s more to a house than its walls, windows, and roof. So we step inside. There too we may see some attractions: fresh paint, new flooring, fancy fixtures.