It’s just peach fuzz

It’s just peach fuzz

As a young teenager, I presented my upper lip proudly to my dad. Black hairs had sprouted.  “Dad, I’m getting a mustache,” I said.  He turned to face me. Without moving closer, my dad declared, “It’s just peach fuzz.”  What? Not true. “It’s the start of a...
“You judge me, don’t you?”

“You judge me, don’t you?”

This question began a conversation which played on repeat in my head. It started when I walked into the gym, the boardroom, or the sanctuary. I silently asked it of my coach, boss, and pastor. I couldn’t shake it. It formed in my mind when someone spotted me on the...