A gift for my father....

It wasn't always that I proudly proclaimed myself the daughter of a minister. I suspect most often in my childhood it was a burden--being present each Sunday in church, riding the storm of being in the public eye, and a community message that one must be "good" if one is the child of a pastor. Most any "PK" would tell the same story. I have grown, however, and times have changed. I hear myself now proudly telling work colleagues, passing acquaintances and friends that I am not only the daughter of a minister, I am granddaughter to two, and sister in law to an ordained woman in outdoor ministries. It is in my blood.

So, too, for my father. He grew up steeped in church culture, and I can remember his signature, "Peter, Minister and Friend" as vividly as I remember much of my childhood. It is who he is--and though now retired, he continues to minister with his presence in his housing complex, in the chapel he attends, to his family, and to anyone who has walked the path with him of life as a sometimes cruel teacher. I created this blog so he might continue to minister with his stories, and we might find a place to retain and treasure them. Dad, this is for you! Happy writing--we look forward to reading each day and seeing what you remember and long to share.