This is a formal apology to my father:
We sat at Mr. D’s Grocery Store in Lander, Wyoming, waiting for the barista to finish a big espresso order before we could place ours. Dad sat in between me and my 19-year-old daughter. I had offered to make Daylight Donuts Coffee at home, but he insisted a mocha would be better and told us to get our coats.
A date with a good man.
We chatted about stuff, and then he asked my girl about her school expenses.
How much are you gonna need for books this semester? He asked.
It varies, she said.
Let me know when you see how much you’re gonna need, he said.
It’s okay. We got it, I said.
He threw his hands up, exasperated.
You see? he said. How am I supposed to help?
Dear dad, I’m sorry I’m too stupid not to just accept your generosity. You’ll be getting a call when we see the scary total for five text books.
To everyone else: God is a generous Father who wants to help us.
Let him, will ya?
“Ask and it will be given to you…” (Matthew 7:7)