I got to hear my dad preach again on Sunday. He’s taken a position at a church just quarter-time. I guess he’s been doing it about a year. He goes in once a month and leads the service and serves them communion. They take care of their other weeks themselves. I do wonder what that’s like. It’s a part of Methodism that is incredibly common, but I’ve never seen.
Anyway, he preached about the woman who had guided him to be a pastor, who saw something in him he didn’t see in himself. I cried while he preached, because, of all the things I can’t stand about my dad, his insecurity because he believes himself to be basically worthless is the worst.
How can you go your whole life hearing from so many people that you are worthy of being loved and never believe it?
I mean, I know how that is, but I hate it.