My Dad Taught Me How to Love the Exvangelical

Ayear ago last week, my father died. If anything, the one-year anniversary was even more grief inducing than the actual day of his death. I suppose that's because, a year ago, I plunged immediately into activity -- the writing of an obituary, the preparation of a eulogy, the mechanics of a funeral. And now, a year later, none of those things are before me -- just the fact that he's gone. With all the reflection over the past year, I've realized one thing that I never really knew before -- my father taught me to love the exvangelical.