Chapter 1: Father

Remember the ol' American "Way" i spoke of? Well let me just say my father has a strong liking for what is one reason some families are torn apart in America: Alcohol. We, Americans, just love our alcohol. Whether that is right or wrong is definitely not for this chapter. However, after reading this i do not see how you will be able to conclude that alcohol is a problem solver. This chapter should honestly be named "A Father for the fatherless." My father has always supported me in any crazy or dumb idea i could dream up. Playing for Duke. Yep, he bought the goal and ball. Becoming the next Billy Gilman...Yes, he even sent me to Nashville and even to Vaught-Hemingway for the National Anthem. He has been there with wallet wings wide open my whole life. That honestly has been a blessing. On the contrary, I do not know him, and he doesn't know me. Not even the beginning of knowing who I am. What i care about. Back to the alcohol... random interruption. Can you imagine having to lock your room door in your OWN house scared of the man who was suppose to protect you? Can you close your eyes and just imagine a family at 3 o'clock... The father busting in the house drunk yelling about things that were honestly just uncalled for. I have always been the person in the family to clean, cook, or whatever you want to call it. Hey, my mom was in school at the time and dad was just gone "supporting the family." I always here that. So back to closing your eyes... The house you picture is spotless (at this point in typing i now realize that your eyes can't be closed while reading this...awkward for me) but for some reason the drunk thinks that "the trash is never taken out and its the boys responsibility in the house... its the least i could do for the family" so therefore i get yelled at. The father almost hit his son after telling him "he should man up." ( I find that funny being that i have never been taught by him to even be a man in the first place.) Luckily, the oldest sisters boyfriend overheard and came in and put a stop to everything. The mom was probably crying she always was not knowing anything to say. The other kids... probably had their door shut crying and listening to hateful things... At least that's what i used to do. So I always longed for a father that wanted to know me. Who knew everything about me. Who knew my heart. Who loved me without putting things like a glass bottle before his very child. I found that Father and He is my true Father now. Who is he? Psalm 68:5 says it best...."A father to the fatherless...is God in his holy dwelling." Also, Isaiah 63:16..."But you are our Father, though Abraham does not know us or Israel acknowledge us; you, O Lord, are our Father, our Redeemer from of old is your name." Do not worry if you are like whoaa... Isaiah and Psalm who? Well they are books that come from the greatest collection of words ever written. The Bible. The very word. The very breath of Father. The breath of Life to His children. That is just one of the many reasons that I am in need of a God, a father, and a redeemer( ill get to a redeemer later). Its worth coming back for one boring day. Did I mention that I am obsessed with heaters. Random, I know. What is warming your heart? Come back to find out what warms mine. Are there any grammar experts still struggling through the battlefield of these misplaced commas and so much more. (Thanks for hanging in there.)

Nate