
My father used to tell people sometimes in his sermons that he had two sons. One that in earlier years could be disciplined with a look…another that required a more “direct” form of punishment.
Almost every time he used that illustration I would ask him, “dad which one of the sons am I?” This question usually went unanswered, but one Sunday afernoon he resonded with “son you don’t want to know.”
At first the idea of being a stubborn seemed incredibly funny to me, but then I realized my dad wasn’t laughing.
Continue reading “The Moment I Discovered I Was A Strong-Willed Child”



