When I was in high school, I used to be terrified of my girlfriend's father, who I believe suspected me of wanting to do things with his daughter that he definitely didn’t want done. When Lori asked me to come over to her place, I would fret on the way about whether her dad was going to be home or not. When I rounded the corner of her street and saw his truck missing from the driveway there was cause for much rejoicing. But, if he was home, I'd dread having to go to the door and ring the bell because he would always answer it. Why couldn’t Lori open the door and greet me with one of her great hugs? Why did it always have to be her father waiting to jerk the door open and extend his vise-grip of a hand? Which brings up a painful memory in itself. I used to hate it when I failed to get my hand firmly planted for the shake for fear of appearing to him like a wimp and the pain of having my fingers crushed which would make my face grimace and therefore make me look even more like a sissy.
Did I mention that he was a sheriff’s deputy with the County of Sacramento? Now listen, I may be really old someday suffering with Alzheimers, but I promise that even then I will never forget meeting that man for the first time. A deputy’s uniform, 38 revolver holstered to his hip and that huge six-point brass star prominently displayed on his chest. Being a father I now think he deliberately planned on our introduction right before he left for his shift so he could be in full regalia. But the coup de grâce, was the look. I don’t know if you have even seen “the look” but if you have you, too, will never forget it the rest of your life. Let me see if I can hang a moniker on his expression worthy of its intensity: “You-better-believe-I-will-destroy-your-life-if-you-touch-my-little-girl” pretty much captures it. While peering into his eyes I imagined myself in juvenile hall on trumped up charges, with guards who are this deputy’s buddies making sure I was in the worse condition possible.
Truth be known – it worked. Lori was an attractive sixteen-year-old. The cutest thing I dated until I met my beautiful wife, Becky. Lori just happened to be extremely affectionate and she really, really liked me. At fifteen, I too was smitten not only by her beauty but even more so by the fact that she loved being with me so much. I found her irresistible and, in the language of the early 70's, “a big turn on.” Well, as our romance grew things definitely turned on. In fact, it was Lori who kept wanting things to go further and she couldn’t quite understand why I was so hesitant. I didn’t have the courage to tell her I was scared to death of her dad and what he would do if he found out I had crossed his boundaries. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to – I did – it was that I was afraid to. In time, her frustration caused her to leave me for an older guy. I was so deeply wounded I didn’t date for over a year.
Father God you have made dads the great barrier. With Your divine endorsement they wield paternal power. They protect their kids from threatening forces even when they well up from within. Father in heaven, we dads learned that from You. We understand that purity is precious and holiness must be protected at any cost. So, Lord, if intimidation is what works then so be it. Keep us vigil and ever alert. Protect our children from others who would harm them and protect them from themselves. In Your Son's name. Amen.
Blessings,
John <><
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