Father’s Day
It’s a time to celebrate every dad who understands what it means to be a father, a friend, a discipliner, a role model, a shoulder to cry on, and the person who will always be there when your children and family need you most.
If you’re like me, you probably feel the same way I do.
It’s never about us.
It’s about them.
Never in a million years would I ever have imagined that God would have given me a chance to even be a dad, much less to the three wonderful children I have.
There’s Samantha.
She’s a breath of fresh air and brings joy, happiness, and smiles to everyone wherever she goes.
The kind of person you want to kiss on the cheek every time you see her (and I do).
She’s relentlessly family.
God-focused.
A gentle soul to everyone she comes across.
A phenomenal pre-school teacher and loving wife.
There’s Arianna.
A true light to the world, God-fearing, a biblical counselor, a friend to the lost, a loving, devoted wife, caring daughter, and one of the strongest, most genuine, loving, and toughest people I’ve ever known.
She’s a gifted artist, was once a junior olympic swimmer, and was hired to act in national commercials and movies when we lived in Southern California.
None of that even comes close (or matters) to the person she is on the inside.
And then there’s Carson.
My only son.
6’5” of steel.
A gentle heart of gold.
A sincere friend to the least among us.
The kind of guy you can count on.
An A-list person and ballplayer who helped win a Gold Medal for Team USA at the age of 12 in Taiwan.
From high school on, he’s had everyone from the Dodgers, Yankees, Red Sox, and many other MLB teams following him, reaching out, asking him questions about why he does what he does and what he sees himself doing in the future.
He played for the #1 D1 college team in the country (University of Texas) as a freshman, but one week before the season started, he broke his foot in his final outing of the spring during an intra-squad scrimmage.
It broke his (and our) heart.
It set him back.
Big time.
The broken foot healed—the road to recovery began.
He comes back.
Then.
He tears his UCL.
Tommy Johny surgery.
Other issues are discovered in his arm.
Woof.
Two years trying to recover.
Everything is fixed.
All good.
By the grace of God, somehow, after all the injuries, the following big league clubs still follow him.
Too little, too late?
Maybe.
We’ll see.
He’s still playing.
Summer ball is going well.
I’ll NEVER bet against him or any of my kids.
Bottom line?
Baseball is a game.
Life is so much bigger and more meaningful than any sport.
Proud dad?
You bet.
Proud of all of them.
I’m no different than most every other dad out there.
We’re all proud of our kids.
They are our world.
I now know why my mom and dad used to look at me and my siblings the way they did.
They knew time was fleeting.
They knew nothing lasts forever.
They knew we weren’t guaranteed tomorrow.
I get it now.
Time flies.
Kids grow up.
Moms and dads look on and wonder where the time went.
It’s a timeless tradition.
I may not know where the time went.
But I do know it went by really fast and it’s not slowing down any time soon.
But I’m still here.
I don’t take a minute of it for granted.
I hope you love your children like I do.
As for me, Father’s Day is awesome.
I’m grateful we celebrate it.
But it will never be about me and will always be about them.
They make being a dad pure joy.
If you’re a father, I hope you love your kids as much as I do mine.
I will always be their number one fan.
Beautiful!
Happy Father’s Day! ❤️🍉