some would say you were the apple of my eye
I know that you have been
with many sons, I am blessed beyond measure
with you, my son, I have been blessed
just a little extra.

I have known your heart
and how big it is
the heart that even a giant could not contain
even as your body struggled to do so
it could not
for your kindness and love and hope
did not have limitation
and still does not.

The heart of a protector
that’s what you have
courageous and strong
I’ve no doubt it’ll carry you
I’ve even less doubt how it will carry others.

As you have begun to see a broken world
and how the world seeks to destroy
and kill
I worry about your heart
powerful feelings can be fragile
and bring even the biggest men down

The truth is I had a father too
and he had faults
as does the one you call dad.
he worked hard to not be guided by his heart
and sometimes that broke mine.

Yet each of us was made from the perfect image
of a perfect Father
our big hearts, they guide men like you and I and God too
for God so loved the world…
is it a fault to have so much heart?
perfectly, no.

in 1 Corinthians 13:4–7
it talks about “Agape” love
Agape love is the selfless, enduring kind of love that reflects God’s nature

Love is patient, love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking,
it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

I love how it always
protects
trusts
hopes
perseveres

You are your fathers child
your heart is bigger than most
as you wrestle with what that means
I know what love always does.

The football Tomcats finished the 2024 regular season as district champions and a 9-1 record. On this team, I’ve a Senior and a Freshman. In last night’s win against a team from Northern Kentucky, both of my boys were starters. But, that’s just the end of one story.

That result of my two sons starting just a moment in time. I’ve personally waited for years with some kind of hope to see them not only playing on the same team together, but both contributing to a team, a team that is quite good. For three years I’ve watched as my now senior was buried in the depth chart, contributing only when starters were injured or in mop-up duty with the varsity team. I’ve had a front-row seat to his frustrations and disappointment. But, he kept showing up, giving his all. Last night while en route to the last regular season game of 2024, Rachel and I were discussing that we don’t think he’s missed a single high school practice, ever. He’s shown up on-time and gave his best for that day.

For 3 years, much of that hard work didn’t payoff for him personally, as he languished in the depth chart and had many discouraging days. But this year, his senior year, he’s started all of his team’s 10 games. These 10 starts came with the cost of the three prior years of practices, freshman games, JV games, encouraging his teammates, and taking criticism from his coaches. More, it came with 3 years of working out, lifting weights in school and on his own.

Last night we knew Seth, too, would likely be starting at kicker. Seth is a freshman who loves kicking more than anyone I’ve ever met. And, like his brother, he’s contributed to the freshman and JV games as a freshman, while getting some mop-up duty on varsity. For Seth, his story is just starting, and he’s 3 short years of high school to play more kicker. He’ll have his ups and downs. There will likely be more downs than ups.

Both brothers will show up, they will put in the work. They will listen when coaches discourage and encourage them. They will feel the disappointment and elation of every moment. They will be tired after school and still go to practice. They will show up for summer and off-season workouts when many of their peers get to sleep in or do fun things with their friends and family. They will sacrifice their time so that the team gets better. They will stand on the sideline when they want to be in the game. They will feel the pain of defeat, and the short moments of victory. Then they’ll get back and do it the next week.

In life and football, the chance to get success is elusive. It requires great sacrifice, doing what others will not do. Life and football takes what it takes. Some day football will be over for my boys, and my greatest hope for them is to take away that when life is hard, when you get dealt a bad hand, when everyone seems to be against you, keep going, keep showing up, keep doing the work required, and you will find some level of success in your life. It simply takes what it takes, this life is often a fight for survival, and the winners keep getting up and showing up and keep fighting.

To my sons: in this life you will be discouraged, the deck will be stacked against you, it will seem hopeless, you will feel helpless. Most people around you will discourage you, they will tell you that you aren’t good enough – keep showing up anyways. Most people around you will tell you to quit, that there’s no point in trying: keep showing up anyways. Most people will tell you that the rewards for hard work aren’t worth it (they are wrong): keep showing up anyways. Most people will look at your successes and see someone who was born lucky or into privilege, they will not see all the work you do behind the scenes of your life; they will not see your sacrifice: keep showing up anyways.

Keep putting in the work in your life when nobody else is watching, keep hoping, and keep dreaming. Stay consistent. Even if you don’t become the greatest and best at what you do, by being persistent, you can find great success in this world by showing up and working hard.

This life simply takes what it takes. It’s hard to be poor, unemployed, it’s hard to ask for handouts, it’s hard to be cold and hungry when you want to be warm and full. It’s hard to have a job, to be a good husband, to raise your children, to help people because you have more. It all is hard, regardless of which path in life you choose.

In football, and life, it takes what it takes. Someday soon will may walk off that football field as a player for the last time. Then you will have to walk onto the field of life. There you have a boss who discourages you, he will give you a poor review when you know you deserve a stellar review. You will miss out on that raise or promotion at work. You will get a grade you don’t deserve, you will be called a name that hurts, you will have your heart broken. You will want to take a path that looks easier, you will want to sleep in, take too many days off. You will see others who get more than they deserve, and vice-versa; you will be one of those people too. You will wonder “why am I getting up early to ________, or why am I staying up late to do __________? ” It will look easier to quit, to do the less work. But, it’s all hard – and you get to choose which hard you want.

Above all – it will be hard, all of it. Sometimes, the outcome doesn’t match the work you put in. What you must do is train your mind to accept failure as a positive result, because it is. Failure means you tried at something, you stretched yourself, and you didn’t win. The difference in a loser and winner is that, when faced with failure, a winner drags his behind up, and tries again. Never stop trying.

Last night I watched the end result of many years of hard work for your mom and I, your brothers, and yourselves (not to mention all of those who lifted us up along the way). And, that ending was not even a guarantee, perhaps it simply was just a dream. And, sometimes when you show up and do the work, your dreams do come true.

What my sons achieved last night for our family was amazing, it was a moment of victory that I’m thankful for. There will be more opportunities in the future for other victories. Today the rent is due again, time to get to work.

Some day I’ll go home to be with my Father in heaven. I don’t know if that day will be today or 50 years from now. But, some day, my loved ones will try to mourn a loss.

Instead of mourning endlessly, I hope they can instead celebrate our lives together, while preparing their hearts to join me in heaven.

In my life we’ve spent endless hours on ball fields, some wonderful hikes through the woods, and countless hours loving one another in every way that we could. And some day, those will be just memories, and I hope they’re wonderful ones. I hope they can carry you over, until we see each other again.

Loved ones, celebrate the moments we had, and remember, until we meet again…finish what God has planned for your life.

Our family has given much to football, and so have our sons. There are many days it’s exhausting, and truthfully, I think too much on football. Football is just a single thing our family does, and it’s not the most important thing.

Now, don’t get me wrong – when I say I love football, I mean I love it with my whole heart. It will make my boys stronger men in every thing they do someday. Today, it makes them better students, it keeps them fit, and it teaches them life lessons that they would simply have to learn on their own, and maybe too late, to be best useful to them.

However, it’s just one single thing that I care about, and it’s not close to being the top of my priorities. As parents, we often treat sports as if it’s the most important thing, and it simply is not. Parents care that their children grow into well-adjusted contributing members of society. And that’s not even the most important thing to me, and it’s not close!

What is it, you ask, that’s the most important thing? As a Christian, I recognize that this is a world we’re all just passing through. Eternity is what matters to God, specifically, what is happening inside the souls of the young men whom I love?

I was once a young man myself, and eternity wasn’t a thing I pondered often then. Back then, a forty year old person was ancient, death of anyone who mattered to me seemed far off. Death is imminent for all of us, there are no guarantees for tomorrow, regardless of age or health status. Our days are simply numbered on this earth, and what we do here matters.

Do we spend time seeking our goals? Do we go after a bucket list? Do we think on the future, and think “when I do this, then I will have found purpose”? Or, do we think “what can I do to achieve the goals for God’s kingdom today?” His kingdom is the only kingdom that will last into eternity, and we will all stand before Him someday in judgement. Simply, His Kingdom is the only thing that matters. But, am I living this way? Am I teaching my children this core part of my life?

Lately I’ve found myself thinking about the Amish community, they have chosen to live their lives in a different way that is more simpler than mine. School for their children often means that they’re done with formal education at 8th grade, and then they really start learning a trade – to farm, to blacksmith, to repair wagons. Then they get married, have children, save money for a homestead. They cherish God and family above all else – not just the notion in the way that I think that I do the same thing – they prioritize their life in a way that focusing on God and family is easier for them.

This week I work, my spouse works, the children go to school, and after school we have football. ‘Tis the season for football practices and games. On Sunday we go to church, and I give and serve in every way that I think my schedule allows. And I see how our schedule impacts the hearts of our children. If my children grow up and move away, and someday have children of their own, how close can we be as a family? Do they understand how important family is, have I shown that to them in the way that I live my life? Truthfully, I don’t know that I have.

This Sunday Pastor Steve’s sermon was about Mathew Chapter 7 and judging. It wasn’t a sermon that spoke to me, because my head has been in a different space lately. I’ve thought a lot about the legacy of the life that I’m living. I don’t particularly care that I leave a large legacy for many people, but I do care that the things I care about are the things my children learn to care about. And, by in large, they do; and during this season of life, in the fall, we care a great deal about football.

I reflect back to the Amish again, or in the least, a farmer. If I had lived my life differently, perhaps I’d be a farmer. My boys would know hard, physical labor. They would understand the circle of life, of life and death. They would see that you reap what you sow, and that sometimes you even reap things you don’t sow (for better and worse). They would know that when you don’t sow, you don’t reap. And, as a farmer I wouldn’t care about football as much, I’d care to have my strong boys on the farm helping to bring in the harvest. We would be around each other more, and probably not care about what the wifi password is. They’d know that air condition is a comfort that you can live without. They’d know all the things I think I know right now, and maybe more. And maybe that life would be good, better, and simpler.

What I can’t do is go back in time. I can’t change how I make money this late in my life; at least, I can’t become a farmer. I work in technology, and I make a good living at it. But, I can decide on what’s most important, and that’s incredibly hard in modern living.

Can modern living give us the same results of a people who lived in simpler times? I think the answer might be no. And, if the answer is no, why am I choosing to live this way?

He was four years old, and couldn’t wait to play football. I still don’t know why he loved football then.

He played on the defensive line for the Tiger Point Tigers. He was always a big kid, towering over kids his own age. In that way football suited him. Bigger than his height and weight, was the size of his heart. He was a born protector, kind-hearted and tough when he needed to be.

When he was six and seven he played in Gulf Breeze for the Dolphins. Big boy even got to carry the ball a time or two. We lost a lot of games, but these were among my fondest football memories with him, amidst the toughest of times for me personally.

After a short move, he would play for the Navarre Raiders for several years. He was eight, then nine, then ten, then eleven. I think when he was 12 he decided he didn’t want to play that year. How hard that was for his momma and I to watch him not play! I feared, like so many kids his age, that he would never play again.

Alas, he was back at it the next year after a big move for our family from Florida to Kentucky. I only get to watch from the stands or on the other side of the fence in practice these days. Eighth, ninth, tenth and eleventh grade seasons have passed.

After countless practices, games, camps and time in the backyard going through drills, he’s about to embark on his final season. As a coach, I always emphasized the importance of finishing; finish the block, finish the tackle to the ground, finish the game strong, finish when you’re tired, finish in a position of dominance. Always, finish.

He’s a lot bigger than he was when he was four, and he no longer looks up to me in more ways than one. In a few short months he will have finished 12 years of football. This year’s team will feature a handful of seniors, including one boy who was born the smallest of all the four of my sons, all 6’5″ and 250 lbs of him. As I ponder what the future can hold between him and I when football is no longer a part of his life, I reflect upon those amazing years, and I’m thankful he chose to finish.

He’s 17 years old, and can’t wait to play football. Finish strong, Big O.

Several weeks ago I decided that I would drive Owen, my 16 year old, to Florida. Days later Seth (13), announced he’d like to come as well. I welcomed the idea to spend time together with two teenagers! Owen had planned on staying with a friend for a couple weeks. I wanted to make this trip for several reasons, none of which are very important, but I’ll list them anyways.:

• To spend time with one of my young men. He’s growing up, some days too fast, and I don’t get to connect with him as much as I’d like to anymore. This trip offered an opportunity to connect.
• I like road trips. This fell during some planned time off from work, so the opportunity was there.
• I’ve got much on my mind, and this offered an opportunity to think through some of those things.

I’m not much of a planner, or rather, I decided to not do a lot of planning, and sort of go with the flow. This allowed me the flexibility I desired to sort through at least those things above. However, while I got to do things above to some degree, what I learned on this road trip goes far beyond that. I am blessed in unimaginable ways, surrounded by people who love and care for me. No, this isn’t a surprise to me at all, but it’s good to genuinely see the blessings, often which go unseen during the course of my day-to-day.

When driving, I wanted the trip to be easy. My plan was to avoid the interstate as much as possible. We left Ashland and didn’t hit an interstate until Bowling Green, Kentucky. In Bowling Green, we stopped at the National Corvette Museum. I’m not into cars or corvettes, but this was an opportunity to stop and see what it was all about.

After that brief stop, we drove about an hour south of Nashville and stayed with my brother (Hi Steve!) and his family overnight. It’s always good to see my family, and I’m grateful for them, their generosity, in allowing us to stay the night.

The next day we hit the road and stopped at Priester’s Pecans in Alabama for some ice cream. I had the butter pecan. Delicious.

When we arrived in Florida, we dropped Owen off at his friends house. From here, we were able to stay with work friends. Thank you Mark for being a gracious host and for opening up your home to Seth and I.

After an amazing nights rest, we went and checked on our rental house there. This was mainly in mental preparation to sell our beloved home this winter. I wanted to see what repairs might be needed, and get a sense of how much it may cost. This was a tough visit for me.

Afterward, we headed to the beach. Much like when Seth was a 1 year old, he sprinted to the ocean – he’s a site to behold sometimes. I pulled him facedown out of the ocean more times than I can recall as a toddler. Often arriving at the beach with little ones in tow, carrying all the accoutrements required for a day at the beach, he would outrun us all straight into the water. I’m glad he loves the ocean as much as dad does.

After several hours enjoying the beach, I wanted to get on the road. But not before one last stop which really broke my heart. Pictured below, you see Seth standing on bleachers. Moments before I took this picture, he was just sitting there, looking at this field. This field is at Navarre Youth Sports Association. We’ve spent countless hours on the football field (and other fields!) here. After some time he returned to the truck, and he looked really somber. I asked him what he was thinking, and he said “I was just thinking I’ll never get to play on this field again”.

His football journey started here, and he always loved The Raiders. As a dad who has lived a long time, I know that every journey starts some place and ends another. This is where his football journey started.

After hitting the road in the early afternoon, we made it to Huntsville, Alabama. I thought this would be a good stopping point to get some rest. The next day, we continued our journey north, taking a brief stop in Adams, Tennessee to tour The Bell Witch Cave and Cabin. I admittedly liked this more than Seth,

What’s a trip without a selfie by your teen? I didn’t know he took this, and when I first saw it, I thought it was Owen. Love my boys!

Come Sunday Morning

Sunday is a special day to me, and the message at church tied this trip altogether for me. The topic was “generosity”. I was hit with how generous the people in my life are; Rachel, Steve, Teresa, Ben, Mark, Owen’s friend and his family and more! When people give freely of their time, their home, it’s an amazing gift – and those folks on this trip, they gave generously and with a welcoming and loving spirit. I’m thankful for those around who love me, who love my family, who opened up their home and gave their time. I’m thankful for Owen and Seth allowing me this time with them, as time is fleeting.

The sermon has made me think about giving and generosity more. It’s made me think about investing, and what I’m investing my money and time in. What I think is it’s most important to investing into people you love and care for, plant a seed of love and experience it bloom. And, sometimes it does not bloom. Sometimes a storm comes and washes your crops away, or something along those lines. And, generosity is a full time job – there are seasons to sow, reap, repair your tools, fertilize – but the work never stops.

Whatever I plan to invest in in the next portion of my life, it’s going to be a lot of work. I realize that I get to choose the type of work that I do, and so – I get to think on that a bit.

Yesterday I read of a simple creativity exercise. Here’s how you can run this simple exercise:

Why Run the Test

This is a test to teach people about themselves. Ideally, it teaches a person that reaching one’s chosen destination is not the problem, instead it’s their perspective that is the issue.

How to Execute the Test

1. Ask someone “How would you get from here to California?” You can replace “California” with any far away or exotic destination because it’s only a representation of a your dream.
2. When they respond, simply say “What if you could not [their answer]. For example, if they say “I would fly on a plane”, you would say “What if you could not fly on a plane?”
3. Continue this banter until the answerer runs out of answers.

What the Test Teaches

I ran this test on two people in my household, and it frustrated them. When the test was run on me, I was immediately amazed by the results.

Often our goals are clouded by perspective. For me, I don’t have a single goal that says “I want to get to California.” But California represents a general goal, it may be something like “I want to make lots of money so that I can do whatever I want to”. So let’s reframe the goal a little.

Let’s say that there are 10 million people, and their goal is the same, they all want to get to California. Let’s say it’s a contest – and the earlier you get to California then the easier and better your life will be. So let’s revisit this goal, and say we challenge 10 million people, time to achieve your goal – on your marks, get set, go.

Now there’s some logistics – some of these people live in Washington State or Nevada – for them a trip to California should be fast and easy. Other’s live in Maine or even in Europe, South America, or some other far flung place. Some of these people have the means to buy a plane ticket, assuming one is available, since everyone will be trying to get to California all at once. Everyone will want to take the easiest and fastest route – a one-way non-stop plane flight to California. But, there aren’t enough planes or resources for that.

Some will decide to setoff by car, train, bus, boat, horseback or even foot. Others will decide that they don’t want to go to California like “all the other sheep” and will instead attempt to travel to another destination. Some will get injured and even die on their journey. A few will make it there quickly, many in the middle, a few last, and many will never make it to California. Those who don’t make it will have to find joy where they ended up; or perhaps they died along the journey. Perhaps they ended up getting caught up in any number of traps.

Joe was from Ohio, he knew he would make it. But, he didn’t have the means for a plane ticket, but he had a few hundred dollars in the bank and a car. So off he went, except that his car broke down in Kansas City. He didn’t have the money to fix it, so he spent time looking for a job there so he could get his car fixed. Two years later he found himself there still as he ended up getting hurt on the job, then later addicted to pain medication. Then he lost his car, and everything else. He moved onto the streets for a number of years. Finally he decided to set off on foot. He caught a ride when he could until Denver. At Denver he got out of the ride the long-haul trucker was giving him, and laid down on a bench at a rest area, where he would parish due to exposure. Joe never made it to California.

Debbie’s parents were wealthy, she was educated and connected to the the Alumni at her private college. She pulled some strings and landed a one way ticket to California. In less than a day, she was at her destination, living her best life.

Marcus came from a working class family, and had a working class attitude about life. He would make it to California, but not before two divorces, a few wrecked cars and bloody hands from all the work he’d done. He made it there in time to retire, and experience the good life.

All of us are on our way to California. Some of us will make it, some of us won’t. Some of us will die, or worse, we will run out of ideas of how to get to California, or worse, we will quit. There is no wrong way to get to California. Sometimes the long detours will help us live happier lives once we get to California – we’ll appreciate it more because of the journey.

Start

Whatever your California is, I challenge you to ask yourself “How do I get to California from here?” Start where you are, do what you can.

Pride is something I’m trying to step away from because God says that I should. It’s a transition for me, because it’s never been uncommon for me to be proud of my children, my family, my career, my country, my team – among others. Many of us are taught to be proud – it’s so established in my life it’s nearly innate. Pride is a sin because things of this world will parish, all of them – and the only real pride can be found in setting yourself before God, and surrendering.

For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—comes not from the Father but from the world.

1 John 2:16

As God continues to work in me, He’s guiding me – but it’s only His guidance. He cannot force me to make the right choices, he can only show me what is right, and watch from afar. Like my heavenly Father, I’ve taught my children the best I knew and know – I’ve poured my heart and soul into them, and now I only get watch from afar as they choose as at least one of them move into adulthood. Unlike my Heavenly Father, I’m a highly flawed man. I did the best I could, the lament of every parent. I’ve never been the best and smartest – I’ve made poor decisions, right in front of my children. Sometimes I fear they’ve learned that. However, I think God can use our poor decisions to show children the best way to handle things, and sometimes that gives me comfort.

Recently I heard that one of my lovely children is struggling with something, and among other things, my son is worried that he will let me down. I can think many things here, but mostly I think of the many times I’ve let him down. There have been many, many times – and I feel regret about it. I don’t want him living with the regret that I have of feeling like I’ve let him down. What I really want to tell him that he cannot let me down – it’s an impossible task – he’s a miracle to me.

I remember the moment he was born, too many years ago, and it has been the only thing in my life that quite literally took my breath away. All I could think of is how perfect he was, and how hard I would work to keep this work from God dripping with perfection. And yes, sometimes father’s become disappointed in a child’s decision. Sometimes, perhaps, we offer better advise, or maybe we shout and get angry. What a son will never see is that I’ve only been angry that I’ve been unable to convey the necessary lesson, so they won’t travel down many of the same roads that I’ve chosen.

Growing up is, indeed, hard to do. I love my dad, but he wasn’t around me as much as I wanted growing up, or even as an adult. Instead, God felt it necessary to remove him from the bulk of my life, and I was gifted with the perfect father, the one in heaven. And even with the gift of the perfect father, I came out highly flawed. I don’t fully know why, but I think men are born of courage, bravery and strength – we believe in the pride of ourselves so much that we often fail to take the lesson, even if it’s staring at us in the face. We know better.

Let me testify that as a man, I didn’t know better, and often still don’t. Lucky am I to have lived many years now, and convey what wisdom I’ve known to my own sons. And they are flawed, it’s their nature, it’s how we learn – it might be what allows us to succeed on this planet. A young man can take risks that scares an older man, and sometimes those risks pay off, even if mostly they do not. But a young man can afford risk, he can make mistakes, and it’s perfectly fine – it’s exactly how God created us to be on this earth, imperfect. God realized that man was born into sin, and was born to make mistakes.

The Lord smelled the pleasing aroma and said in his heart: “Never again will I curse the ground because of humans, even though every inclination of the human heart is evil from childhood. And never again will I destroy all living creatures, as I have done.

Genesis 8:21

However, God offered us a path of redemption, through Christ Jesus. He promises that if we choose to follow him, love him, obey him, honor him – then we are offered an eternal life in heaven. And, if we choose this path in our life on earth, He will walk with us, guide us, comfort us, and love us through all of it.

Son, you will make mistakes, as have I. And I love you, miracle baby boy, gift from God, love of my life. I’ve loved you from the beginning of your time on earth, and will love you until the end of my time. Whatever your choice, your mistake or your glory, I stand beside you. I will advocate for you, fight for you, love on you, and give you all that I have. All I have, all I am, is what I’m willing to give to you. Lord, I pray – please allow me to get out the way of my children, and be gracious toward their mistakes.

I should never have been given the opportunity. When I was given the opportunity, I should have failed. I still expect to fail.

Spring 2012, I was interviewing for this job that I applied for because I met the qualifications, however vague they were. I don’t recall the job description, but it seemed like a shot in the dark, but I took it. And to say I had low expectations is a massive understatement; I felt defeated and beaten after years of under-employment and under-appreciation. I was called for an interview, a second one, and finally a third one. I was given a take-home assignment on the last (I was interviewed on a Friday) and was asked to email my work in Monday. I spent too many hours that weekend trying to get it perfect. I made promises to my future boss I knew I couldn’t fulfil. I essentially begged, pleaded for a chance, any chance to prove I was good enough.

After too many weeks, they called and offered me a beginning package that I was thrilled with. My expectations were so incredibly low that exceeding them was an easy task. Looking back, I realize they low-balled me; but again, I was thankful for the opportunity, and still am. I knew there would be a 90-day review, and that’s all I had my eyes set on.

I recall my first day, I felt completely out of my element. I had never worked with software engineers or on a development team. My head was really spinning following that first day. 90 days later I got called into my bosses office for that review, fully expecting him to tell me that it wasn’t a good fit. I didn’t feel like I was doing a good job, and I don’t think he thought I did a good job, but they kept me on. I kept on that way for 5 years, several times I had conversations with my boss, or his boss, about how I wasn’t excelling; on one occasion I remember him asking me “why don’t you look for another job?” Incredible!

A few years into it I was having some real personal issues. I would come into work each day and sit and cry at my desk. I would go on my lunch break to the gym, change my clothes, go running – and cry the entire time. During this time, one of my coworkers asked me if I ever thought about jumping out in front of one of those cars that went speeding by. I was a broken man, and nobody took pity on me. But, I kept showing up, doing the very best I could. In retrospect, I was doing great, exceeding expectations even. However, I never felt like I did good enough, because nobody told me so. But they kept paying me and giving me raises, even some really good ones. I got great reviews, which always confused me, given my managers feedback. Then the company grew and my manager changed. My new manager was the first one I had that gave me great positive feedback. He was the first one who asked how I was doing personally. He asked questions about my family and how I was getting along. He was an encouragement, a gift from God.

He is no longer my manager and I miss him. But I’m still working for the same company, and not only am I doing well, I’m excelling, and I know it. I also know I should have failed. I know my manager wanted to fire me after 90 days, but he didn’t. At every annual review, they acted as if I were worthless to them. I was even asked to leave once, but did not. Incredibly, I continued to contribute, and they kept paying me and promoting me. Looking back, I wasn’t a poor employee, they didn’t dislike me nor did they think I was doing a poor job – they were saying what they could to justify what they wanted to pay me. Some even said discouraging things because they were jealous or thought I was a threat. And it made me feel terrible, for years – even today, I struggle thinking I’m underperforming. I struggle to think I’m not smart enough or good enough.

This past summer a colleague told me that I should interview for a job that I thought I was neither qualified for or smart enough to do. For months, I brushed him and others off. I wasn’t smart enough or good enough, I knew that. Then my former manager, the encourager, reached directly out to me. He told me that he wanted to set up a mock-interview, so that I could learn what I needed to learn to pursue this job. Reluctantly, I agreed. Later, I would interview for real, and immediately they told me that they wanted to recommend me for the job. They told me I was smart, great to work with, and eager to learn. I could not believe it; I will tell you without any uncertainty that I felt like I bombed that interview. I knew I wasn’t good enough, I just knew it.

I started that job in June, and every single day has been challenging – I’m learning so much. And I love it, I absolutely love it. I know now that when I started this job way back in 2012 that I’m doing something I was destined to do now in 2023. It’s hard, many days I end my day exhausted, mentally drained, and almost always feeling as if I’m not doing it good enough. I have a new manager now, and have gone through two major transitions over the last 4 years with my company (being acquired). My new manager doesn’t tell me how good I’m doing, but I can see it, I know it – why then, do I feel as if I’m failing?

The short answer is that I am failing, every single day. Every day I think I make mistakes, that’s because I’m doing things that I’ve never done before; and you know what, I’m doing pretty great at it – even as I make mistakes. I have to keep telling myself I’m doing great, because few in your life and mine will ever be an encourager. Sometime I’ll have a review, and more than likely, they’ll tell me I’m not doing good enough, working hard enough, or I’m making too many mistakes. They will try to prove to me that my value is less so that they can pay me less or promote others ahead of me. But I’m persistent, I know that I work harder than most around me. I’m there before they get in, and leave after they leave. I don’t fool around at work, I’m focused, dedicated, and I solve difficult problems on the daily. I am good, and smart, and I’m more-than-just-contributing. I know people must see it, but even if they do not, I will continue to work hard, to be persistent, to push through.

Even if I have to come to work crying at my desk because I’m going through a difficult time at home, my output will continue to be positive. Even if my manager says I’m not a high performer, I’ll keep out performing others. Even if I think I’m not doing well, I know that I am because I work harder than most, I’ve put in the time, I stay persistent. My greatest trait is my consistency and work ethic. When I was a young man, an old boss gave me a great compliment – he asked me why I worked so hard, vastly out-performing my peers. I had peers tell me to “slow down” or ask me “what I had to prove?”. I guess the short answer is that in my life there’s been a shortage of encouragers, people who have believed in me. Perhaps that’s true for most people, I don’t know.

One thing I do know is that the world needs more encouragers. The world needs more hard workers. The world needs more people to show up, show out, put up and put out. The world needs us, because there are too few of us. I’ve seen a change in myself the last couple of years professionally – I’m an encourager, I always have a great attitude, I work hard to maintain good relationships with coworkers. But I can feel the little guy inside who keeps whispering “you’re a failure”. I hear him, but I keep working hard because I know the devil is a liar. That voice comes from the devil, telling me I’m not smart enough or good enough, I don’t work hard enough and I haven’t earned my spot. For the first time since I’ve started this job I know that I am more than good enough.

Lastly, I’m thankful for that little voice telling me I’m not good enough. Being good is the enemy of being great.

I write what is on my heart often here, and today my heart is about fathers. By writing what I write, I don’t want to diminish what mothers or uncles or anyone else contributes to their families. Today this post is about fathers – all of us who rise to the hard occasion of loving their family beginning to end.

Last week I was honored to attend the funeral of my best friend’s dad. I was honored to provide my love and support to this family during that time. They are a family I love as my own, and Percy (jr) is a brother I love as my one of my blood brothers. When the patriarch of a family passes, it’s a special occasion – not because of the man that he was, but because of the family he chose to give love to over the course of his life. A father who stays and supports with his family is Christ-like.

The Obituary

Those who are lucky enough to grow to old age will have lived many lives, and one extraordinary life. An obituary will note their what schools they went to, what branch of service they served in, what churches and fraternal orders they participated in. Most importantly, it tells us who survives them. By surviving them, they will continue to live on for generations.

A Legacy

A father who stays with his wife, raises their children together, supports and loves them through thick and thin has laid a foundation for which his children and their children and their children and their children will build their lives upon. Regardless of what this man does for a living, what he’s done or where he’s been, his best legacy is the one he left in the hearts of those who will continue to live on for many generations.

His Legacy

There are many things I fail at, for me, my failings rear their ugly heads daily. Over the course of my life I’ve served in the Navy, lived in too many cities to count, had many jobs and a few careers. I’ve coached children I still love today. I’ve been blessed to work at the same company for nearly 11 years now. Above all, I’ve remained married to the woman I’ve loved nearly all my life. We’ve been incredibly blessed to have four children, all of which I love dearly. I’ve failed my wife and children many times, but I show up everyday, trying to not fail them today.

Before I was a Christian, I thought of legacy often, and what I wanted to be remembered for. Perhaps I’ll be remembered for my service to this country, and by the many people I’ve worked with for many years, or when I coached how I was fair and encouraging. I used to worry about how my children might remember me, if I’d done enough well enough.

This morning in church I was reminded of what I now want my legacy to be someday – not a legacy of Jason, of who I was and what I touched and who remembers what about me – instead a legacy of love through Jesus. I hope that my children can only remember my love for them, and where I have failed, God will fill in the gaps. Perhaps they’ll remember me dragging them to church. Above all, I hope to see them all again at the alter of Christ, surrounded in His love where no pain or turmoil exists. Eternal things are what I care about now as I work towards His Legacy.

As I turn my head to 2023, I turn my heart to His Legacy. A funeral is a time to celebrate. That celebration can continue in honor, and is truly a gift to each of those left behind, and can continue into eternity.

Oh! Christ be maginified
From the alter of my life
Christ be magnified in me