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Since I don’t drink coffee it seems odd to pull from the past a moment when coffee was a special treat, but add to it a doughnut and a four-year-old girl. I’m pretty sure that’s about how old I was when my daddy let me sink my Krispy-Kreme doughnut into his steaming cup of black joe. Presto: a soggy, hot morsel of sweet goodness, and a great memory of one of my daddy’s ways of showing love.

Daddy could break the rules because he made them. At least he could where an adult beverage was concerned, and thankfully that’s the extent of the rules he broke with me.

I’ve spoken with two women in the last three weeks who told me their father crossed much more serious boundaries, and molested them. As appalling as the fact is, most children are victimized by someone known to them. I can’t imagine coming to terms with a memory such as that, but I know I’ve hurt those I love in unspeakable ways, and sometimes I’m not even aware of them.

Ever hurt someone you love?

You might like, as I do, verse 17 from the Bible in chapter 30 of Jeremiah:
“For I will restore health to you, and your wounds I will heal, declares the Lord.”
Just knowing goodness can be restored is a powerful thing.


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