Boys and Integrity



Today I am guest posting over at Below is an excerpt. Thanks for stopping by. I hope all of you are well as we approach Thanksgiving!

The evening was coming to an end and so were my wits. My oldest was crying in her room. As I went to see what was wrong, my son scurries out of the room avoiding eye contact with me, leaping into bed with guilt dragging behind him. I ask her what he did and in between gasps of air she belts out, “He’s exasperating me!” I ask her how he’s exasperating her and she proceeds to explain he sold her a pen for a dollar and now wants another dollar after she had already given him the money.

I call him into the room.

He peers ever so slowly from around the corner. His head is down. Our eyes barely meet.

He tells me this is true of what happened.

He’s hardly remorseful and more concerned that he didn’t get more than what he sold it to his sister for.

The words, “You need to give your sister back the money she paid for the pen…and she’s keeping the pen too,” rolled off of my tongue.

You would have thought I took all of his toys and burned them with the look I received from him.

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Cancer is a Four Letter Word


When said, it rings hollow and violent in your ears like a four letter word.

It’s not sympathetic, racist, sexist or prejudice in anyway. It’s an equal opportunity seeker. Seeks those whom it wants to devour.



Painful without the sting of pain.

The only pain it hands out, is to those closest to you. It wreaks havoc on your hope, life and makes loud in places of silence.

Cancer: A four letter word.

No Redos in Raising A Man

Today I am honored to be guest posting for Below is an excerpt from my guest post. Hope you all have had a wonderful break with your families this past Labor Day weekend!

His hair is long.

Ruffled over and past his ears reminding me that I need to do something with this ‘mop’ that has taken over his head.

He grabs the sides of his hair and pulls them down even further past the tops of his ears and says to me,

“ Daddy, I need a hair cut. See, my hair is really long.”

As he leaves the room to get his change of clothes for church, I reassure him that I’ll cut his hair.

Oil runs down my fingers as I prepare the clippers that will soon plow through his numbered hairs like a combine that harvests corn.

My son returns into the room, his arms overflowing with his brand new suit. A wide, proud smile consumes him as he belts out confidently,

“Daddy, I’m a man now. I’m not a boy any more.”

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My Struggles are a Gift

I’m happy to introduce you to a good friend of mine, Jim Woods, who is kind enough to guest post for me today. Enjoy!

Photo by Alex LiDelfos (Creative Commons)

 I heard God today.

No it wasn’t  a loud voice, bright light, or burning bush. Instead it was a whisper in my head. It only lasted about a second, but I know it was God.

What did He say? Let me give you some background first.

I’d been discontent with my job for a long time. Stress continued to build up, but I ignored it until heart palpitations, depression, asthma, stomach aches and muscle soreness attacked me everyday.

It took a nervous breakdown for me to realize something was wrong. I knew I wanted more from life than just following the path of least resistance. I rediscovered my creative side and then embraced it wholeheartedly.

For several years now, I’ve prayed that I would find a dream job. A perfect position where all of my problems would evaporate. I replaced God with this idea of a “perfect dream job.” Instead of praying, I spend time on Twitter building my platform. Instead soaking up the wisdom of Solomon, I chose Seth Godin or Steven Pressfield.

Fast forward to today. God told me “your struggles are a gift.” Insane thought isn’t it? My struggles a gift? What kind of sick, twisted thought is that?

But now as I think about it, this makes a lot of sense. God knows I need some discomfort in my life or I get lazy. All too often I get comfortable and think I have everything figured out.

Challenges are an opportunity to lose hope or to grow closer to God.

I don’t know where you are today. But is it possible your struggles are a gift too?


Jim Woods is a writer in Nashville, TN who loves helping you turn ideas into reality. He has a passion for helping others, donuts, and watching episodes of 24. You can connect with Jim on Twitter or his blog here.


Does Your Son Know You’re Proud of Him? (Guest Post)

Today I am guest posting over at! Below is an excerpt from my post. At the end is a link to continue reading the rest at Boydads.



“Daddy, you’re so proud of me, you’re so proud of me, daddy, you’re going to be so proud of me!”

He then turns to me with fish in hand looking for any sign of confirmation.

He asks, “Daddy, you’re proud of me right?!”

And there’s a pause.

An anticipatory pause.

In that brief, tiny moment, he needed to be affirmed. He needed to know that I was proud of him, before he could go on celebrating his catch.

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