My Dad, Pastor Danny

My Dad’s been pastor at Calvary Chapel St. Pete for as long as I can remember — literally since before I was born — and this weekend, after 34 years, he announced his retirement.

I couldn’t be more proud.

Growing up, I remember him as strong and funny. He taught us to build cardboard cities, ride bikes, and play baseball. He took us out on the boat a lot too.

I remember one time a storm picked up at Egmont Key. The boat was almost beached and I was stuck, curled up against a wall of sand, screaming at the lightning. My Dad pushed the boat free, turned back, and scooped me up in his arms. And there I was, calm in the middle of the storm.

Somewhere along the way I hit my “screw you dad” phase and started talking to him less. I went away to college and found myself bitter. Then I got married, had two kids, and something changed. Dad and I started picking up where we left off.

Our relationship has changed so dramatically in the past few years I can hardly believe it: speaking freely, making genuine apologies, listening and feeling understood — feeling at peace.

You know that feeling? Feels like being rescued from a storm.

We love our Dad, and we’re excited for the future.

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