Birthday Post

Happy birthday, Will.

I suppose it’s normal for every birthday to feel monumental to a parent. Each year brings new milestones and reminds us just how quickly time passes.

But this birthday feels different.

This year you leave middle school behind and enter high school.

Not only have you grown physically more over the past year than I thought was possible, but you’ve also grown in intellect, responsibility, maturity, and athletic ability.

One of the first things that comes to mind when I think about you is just how much we can count on you.

Before I say anything else, though, I want to remind you of something your mom and I have tried to communicate to you and your siblings your entire lives:

Our love for you is not something you earn.

When you were playing baseball, we would often tell you that you could hit a thousand home runs and we wouldn’t love you any more. You could strike out a thousand times, and we wouldn’t love you any less.

I begin there because you’re wired a lot like your father.

You’re driven by performance.

Setting Out on Your Own Oregon Trail

As you begin your high school golf career, remember this: our love for you will never increase because your golf game improves, nor will it diminish when the inevitable setbacks come.

The word that comes to mind when I think about this season of your life is pioneer.

Give your dad a little grace here—I’m a history nerd.

You’re setting out on your own version of the Oregon Trail.

You’re entering a brand-new high school. You’re the first person in our family to attend Wheaton Academy. While we all believe it’s going to be an incredible experience, it’s still an adventure into the unknown.

Looking back on my own life, freshman year wasn’t just another school year. It became the launching point for so many of the opportunities, friendships, and decisions that shaped the decades that followed.

Your mom and I are excited to watch this next chapter unfold.

We’ll also be praying that God gives you wisdom, courage, and discipline.

The good news is that I already see those qualities in you.

The Hero Shot vs. The Smart Shot

One thing I’ve learned as your dad is that my responsibility is gradually changing.

It’s becoming less about making every decision for you and more about preparing you to make wise decisions for yourself.

I think about the conversations we’ve had on the golf course.

Eventually you’re going to hit one into the rough.

When that happens, it takes discipline to choose the smart shot instead of trying to pull off the hero shot. There are moments when the hero shot is the right play—but they’re far less common than we wish.

More often than not, the better decision is to chip back into the fairway, trust your wedge game, and give yourself a chance to save par.

Life works much the same way.

Wise, disciplined decisions made over and over again usually beat spectacular moments of brilliance.

From Authority to Coach

As you move through high school, my promise to you is that I’ll try to become more of a coach than simply an authority figure.

With greater freedom comes greater responsibility.

Your mom and I are going to let you make more low-stakes decisions now so that you’ll be prepared when the high-stakes decisions eventually come.

We’ll still ask questions.

We’ll still challenge you.

We’ll still offer advice.

And yes…it’s probably going to annoy you from time to time.

My hope is that fifteen years from now you’ll look back and realize that every conversation came from a place of love.

I also want to model what I teach.

That’s one of the reasons I’ve invited you into my own golf journey this summer.

Honestly, it’s been one of the highlights of my year.

You have an incredible gift.

Truthfully, I think you’re already a better golfer than I am.

Where that gift takes you, only God knows.

Whether you become a college golfer or simply enjoy the game for the rest of your life, know this: I’ll always be cheering for you. I look forward to the day you’re so far ahead of me that I can barely see you walking down the fairway.

What Matters Most

Just remember…

None of that will ever change how much I love you.

You can’t earn it.

Over the past year we’ve also had more conversations about spiritual things than ever before.

I’ll probably continue to annoy you there too.

The older I get, the more convinced I become that this is what matters most.

Golf will eventually fade.

Your driving distance will shorten.

Your body will ache a little more each year.

I know you laugh when I complain about mine, but one day you’ll understand.

That journey is inevitable for all of us.

Which is why my greatest prayer for you has nothing to do with golf, school, or career.

My prayer is that you would know Jesus personally.

That you wouldn’t read the Bible because you feel obligated to, but because you genuinely want to know the God who loves you.

That your identity would be rooted in Him rather than in your performance.

If that becomes true, every other success in life will simply become an added blessing.

I love you, Will.

Happy 15th birthday! 

This year marks a huge milestone—you turn 10.

When I think back over the last decade, the first thing that comes to mind is this: it’s hard to remember what life was like before I was the father of a daughter.

Your mom and I have always told you and your brothers that we love each of you the same. But love isn’t something that can be measured.

Love is not like the battery life on an iPad, where it counts down all the time, as if there were only so much to go around.

Love runs much deeper than that.

Love is commitment. It’s sacrifice. It’s doing whatever it takes to help the person you love not just be okay, but to thrive—to flourish, to grow, and to know they are safe.

That’s what I think about when I think about you and your brothers. 

The Joy of Watching You Shine

As I reflect on this past year, one thing stands out above everything else: your courage.

You’ve embraced dance. You’ve embraced performing on stage. And just this past weekend, I had the privilege of watching you play Little Alice in your Disney Junior production of Alice in Wonderland.

You were simply fantastic.

But what I’ll remember most wasn’t a particular line or scene. It was your joy.

The smile on your face lit up the room. It was impossible to miss. You looked completely alive up there, doing something you loved. I even caught you quietly mouthing the lines of the other actors while they were speaking—a small detail that revealed just how prepared you were and how much you cared.

Whether it’s watching you perform on stage, seeing you dance at competitions, or simply watching you become more confident in who God created you to be, the joy it brings to my soul is difficult to put into words.

As I look ahead to this next year, I’m excited to see how God continues to shape you and use the gifts He’s given you.

A Servant’s Heart

Your brothers affectionately call you “Mama Jean.”

The nickname fits.

You have the heart of a mother. You naturally care for people. You notice when someone needs encouragement. And let’s be honest—sometimes your older brothers need a little mothering from their younger sister.

That servant’s heart doesn’t just show up at home. I see it with your friends, too.

You genuinely care about other people, and that’s one of the qualities I admire most about you.

It makes me incredibly proud to be your dad.

And while so much has changed over the last ten years, one thing hasn’t.

There is still no better place for me to end the day than sitting on the couch next to you.

You are a gift from God to our family.

I love you.

Happy 10th birthday. 

Dear Grandpa,

This year has been a year of big moments. There have been many times when I’ve wanted to get in the car, drive to your house, and pretend I was once again a kid with no cares in the world.

I’ve driven by the house more than a few times. It has changed. It’s a quiet reminder that you can never truly go back. That realization has helped me stay rooted in the present, even when life feels heavy.

One of those heavy moments came on a Wednesday afternoon in September. One of our team members—a guy you would’ve absolutely loved—faced life’s most unthinkable loss with the sudden passing of his daughter. It was the kind of moment that brought all of us to our knees.

Another came about six weeks later, in Düsseldorf, at the 2025 K Show. I was sitting with this same team member over a drink, talking about life, grief, and pain. Somewhere in that conversation, my thoughts turned to you.

Your leadership modeled caring for people first. You went to the funerals. You showed up in the grief. I hope—and pray—that I am following your example well. All I can say for sure is that my heart still grieves for my friend as I type these words.

The next day, I had some time alone while our team headed into meetings. As an introvert, I value those quiet moments to get my bearings. Again, my thoughts turned to you. What would you think of the technology in 2025? What counsel would you give us about our next move? As I walked the halls of the show, I found real comfort imagining your perspective.

Later this year, I was elected as an Officer of the Plastics Industry Association. As we welcomed the Society of Plastics Engineers into the Association, my thoughts once again turned to you. I learned that you served as Chairman of SPI (now Plastics) for the 1973–74 term. I also learned that SPE once cited you for allowing a local competitor—temporarily put out of business by a fire—to use an unused section of our plant.

Not only am I still trying to follow in your footsteps, but your generosity is still bearing fruit in 2026. We recently hired a Director of Manufacturing who you once helped at Elgin Community College. During his interview, he mentioned that SPE citation was one of the reasons he wanted to work with us.

Your leadership is still helping us recruit—nineteen years after you left this planet.

I aspire to that.

If I’ve learned anything this year, it’s that life keeps moving forward. A few days before Christmas, I took advantage of a sunny December afternoon and drove out to the Max McGraw Wildlife Foundation. Sarah and the kids had gone ahead to Ohio, and I stayed back for a retirement party at work. For the first time in a while, I had space for solitude.

McGraw is a special place to me. Its ponds, streams, and wildlife connect me to God’s creation. It’s where I went to be alone with Him.

That afternoon, I found myself praising God for my life. Not only for forgiveness through Jesus, but for an abundant life. Things are not perfect. This year has been hard in many ways. But in that moment, I was reminded that I am still here because of His goodness.

More than that, I have children who are growing up and a wife I am still madly in love with. Sarah is still incredibly beautiful—inside and out. This June 30th will mark our 19th wedding anniversary, and what would have been yours and Grandma’s 84th. Grandma once told me she was passing the baton to us in 2007. I hope we have lived up to it.

Even as life moves forward, I don’t forget you—nor do I forget my other three grandparents. The gift you all gave me is one of the greatest treasures of my life. Add in my parents’ marriage, along with Sarah’s parents’ and grandparents’ legacies, and we are deeply blessed.

As I close, know that I still walk the floor wondering what you would be thinking. There is something comforting about hearing the presses run and seeing the people at work.

In fact, my year ended the way I imagine you would want it to end—gathered in our lunchroom, celebrating Peter’s 37 years with the company.

“I have always felt this place is my second family,” he said.

As I drove to the airport to rejoin Sarah and the kids in Ohio, I found myself choking up over that sentence. Life is full of highs and lows, as this year reminded us. You built a culture that put people first, and we have worked hard to continue that legacy.

I hope—and pray—that we are living up to it.

I miss you.

Alex

When I think about you, the first thing that comes to mind is your joy for life. 

This was tested very early on when you were diagnosed with RSV. Things got so bad that you were admitted to the hospital for five days. Mom would stay with you every night as I drove home to be with Will. It was the week before Christmas, the road was dark, and I was scared. Every time I sat behind that car’s wheel, I prayed for your health. I pleaded. I worshiped. I asked God to give me the strength to trust in the darkness. Obviously, you made it home. And it might have been the most special Christmas Eve of my life. 

What I learned from that experience is worth sharing. First, there is no hope outside Jesus. In that moment, I had no control over the outcome. Of course, someone could argue that you got lucky and that the “world” just worked in your favor. I do not have enough trust in that kind of thinking. I trust in Jesus because, like making a mess of your LEGOs a few years later, I’ve sometimes made a mess of my life. I was wild. I looked for “fun” in places that led to pain. Then I was always surprised at my social circle’s disapproval of my actions, the same actions they had sold me on being “fun.” It made me feel discarded. But Jesus never discarded me. He accepted me when few outside my family would. This is grace. 

As your father, I want to protect you from disease and mistakes. But these things are going to happen. You will have to choose for yourself what you believe in and who you trust. But I will always pray that you choose Jesus. And you should know that without Jesus, my life would be totally different from what it is today. There is no way that I would have ever married your mother outside of meeting Jesus first. Therefore, had I not met Jesus, you would not exist.

The other lesson I learned from you being in the hospital was about God’s love for His children. Some have wondered — how can God love everyone equally? As I drove home during the dark nights you were in the hospital, my heart throbbed with love for your mother. Her strength glorified Jesus. I longed for my little buddy (at the time) Will, and leaving you felt desperately difficult. My mind could not even conceive then, in December 2013, of the deep love I would have for Sadie in the future. 

The point I am making is that I discovered Jesus really can love ALL his children — and so can I. As our middle child, you must know how deep and wide our love is for you. Who do we love the most? Yes, we love you all! 

When I look at your future, I have no idea what you will do. The possibilities are endless. On one hand, I see so many similarities to myself. On the other hand, I see giftedness I have never had, like your ability to build things. When you put your mind to something, your potential is staggering. 

To be clear, however, what you do in the future does not matter that much to me. You can become the most successful business person, builder, or sports announcer, and I won’t love you any more. You can be completely “mediocre” or do something the world pays little attention to, and I won’t love you any less. 

What I do care about is the kind of man that you become. I pray that you love Jesus. I pray that you work hard, not for men or personal gain, but because you aim to glorify the Lord, and steward what he has given you. I pray that you are trustworthy and faithful. I pray you are the kind of man people know will do the right thing. 

I also pray that you use your gift of talking to encourage others. 

Finally, our recent conversation stands out and captures the essence of my last piece of advice. You were talking to me about how we would play together in a member/guest team golf tournament. You said, “The strategy would be simple. You (meaning me!) would hit the safe shot, and I would hit the aggressive shot.”

Ben, never stop being aggressive. 

Aggressively pursue your goals and relationships. 

And above all else, aggressively pursue Jesus. 

Jesus will, in return, give you the abundant life. 

I love you, 

Dad 

Every year, as I celebrate my birthday, I also practice thanksgiving for my many blessings. What am I thankful for? 

I am thankful that when I was at my lowest moment in college, a peer aggressively challenged my lifestyle and what it meant to be a Christian. Their tactics were, perhaps, judgmental. But they did what was required to awaken me. 

I am thankful for the youth pastor at the Crystal Cathedral in Garden Grove, California, who challenged me to start attending a local church.  Combined with the experience above, my life went in a different direction. Willow Creek Community Church nudged me into Christian community. 

I am thankful for August 19, 2005, and for God’s providence in having me run into Sarah. It turned out to be one of the most pivotal days of my life. We married on June 30, 2007. 

I am thankful for my parents, sisters, grandparents, and extended family. In many ways, I hit the jackpot on everything — except maybe hair genes.

I am thankful for all the school administrators who failed to call me back in 2007 and 2008, or flat-out told me that I was not good enough to teach at their school. This put a fire in my belly that has not diminished over time. It gifted me the constant reminder that Mondays are “Thank-God-I-have-a-job” days and that work is both dignified and a blessing. Their “no” led me to reconsider my “no” to other options, which turned into the best “yes” of my working life.

I am thankful for the opportunity my dad gave me to come work at Hoffer Plastics in 2008. I am thankful that I spent the first four weeks on the production floor, became lifelong friends with two guys out there, and then spent the rest of the year doing front office jobs that were, quite frankly, gritty, boring, and still necessary. I look at those jobs and the people doing those jobs, and I have a strong appreciation for the work being done. 

I am thankful for all the people I get to work with at our company, our customers, and our suppliers. I meet so many interesting people across the globe. In fact, had you told me in 2008 what a global job this is, I wouldn’t have believed you. I am so thankful for this, as it has grown me in all ways. 

I am thankful for my three kids. They have grown me in ways that I cannot adequately count here. I love them fully. I am thankful that I get to write the birthday letters to them, as that has become a fun tradition. 

I am thankful for my local church and my community there. I have been reminded of it during the past month as I have walked through some tough times with people on our team at Hoffer Plastics. 

I am thankful for another year of life. I am thankful that I am in my mid-forties. 

I am thankful for today. 

Dear Will, 

One of my fondest memories of Grandpa Hoffer has nothing to do with Hoffer Plastics. Instead, it has to do with playing nine holes of golf with him regularly when he was in his early 80s. 

The deal was that we would play with his good friend, Al, and the three of us would typically play nine holes before having lunch and talking about golf. I always left those days with a little bit of Grandpa’s wisdom about golf and life. Playing a round of golf with Al, a Masters Tournament season ticket holder for decades, would be like getting a lesson in golf history. If only I could play nine more holes with those two! 

Similarly, I have enjoyed watching you play golf with your grandpa. You have the fortune of playing with him while he can still play well, despite what he tells you when the two of you are on the course. My advice is to suck up every lesson and enjoy it. I also advise you to soak up the time with your Papa when he is in town or you are in Dayton. You are blessed to have both of your grandpas and your two grandmothers in your life. 

I point this out as you celebrate birthday number 14, because you are now bearing witness to the speed — and, quite frankly, brevity — of life. To quote the philosopher Ferris Bueller, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” 

Therefore, I advise you to rip up your to-do list every once in a while and go to that 1:20 p.m. start at Clark and Addison. 

I entirely understand and appreciate your discipline and attention to your plan. Having said that, hear this warning from an uptight 43-year-old: you need to be flexible. Not every day is going to go the way you planned, and leaving room for some spontaneity keeps life fresh and fun. One of my all-time favorite Cubs games came about when a friend called me at 1 p.m. on a Sunday in 2005, interrupting my graduate studies. By 1:20 p.m. I was sitting 24 rows back in the shallow left outfield. I had time to study later — and I did — but I would not have had another time with those guys at that game. 

Similarly, this advice will serve you well as you start to play more competitive golf. Another famous quote, this time by Mike Tyson, also applies to golf: “Everyone has a plan until they are punched in the face.” Playing competitive golf is a lot like signing up for getting punched in the face. Golf, after all, is a game of recovery. The best can take the body blows to their plan, recover, and stick with it despite the challenges. Golf prepares you well for life because it teaches you to confront obstacles, embrace challenges, and keep going despite setbacks. 99.99% of golf rounds are that. 

To be sure, you have an incredible amount of talent for golf. Your potential is vast. I will be cheering you on along the way, even when you begin to regularly beat me. And to be certain, that day is coming quickly. 

Having said that, let’s get a few things straight once again. 

I will not love you more if you make the PGA tour. 

I will not love you less if you quit golf today. 

I am not banking on you getting a golf scholarship; there is no pressure to play golf in college. 

I care most about the kind of person you are, your work ethic, and whether you stick to your commitments to others. 

I pray most for you to know Jesus, follow Him, and live a life that glorifies Him. 

The lesson I have learned most in leadership (and parenting) is how much I need to repeat messages like this. So, forgive me as you will continue to hear this a lot. 

You will also hear this: I love you. I cannot imagine life without you. I am extremely proud of you, and that has nothing to do with anything you do. 

This next year, I invite you to be an encourager of your brother Ben and sister Sadie. Imagine a few years down the road when they are telling people how much encouragement they receive from their older brother Will. Isn’t that the kind of man you want to be? 

Your mother and I are incredibly proud of you and love you more than we can share here. 

Love, 

Dad  

Dear Sadie, 

Just hours before your mom and I learned you were a girl at her doctor’s appointment, my grandmother, Jean Rue, passed away. JJ, as she liked to be called, was 98 years old. She believed your mother was having a girl, and she was correct. Hence, you were named Sadie Jean Hoffer.  

I often call you “Jean,” and you wonder why. There are countless reasons. One is that you often remind me of JJ, and another is that I will always miss her. She made me promise I would never forget her, and that is about the easiest promise I have ever made. 

As I think about your 9th birthday, the passage of time, and the joy of having you as my only daughter, I think another easy promise to make is that I will never stop loving you. My love for you is like the deepest well this side of heaven. 

If there is anything better than cuddling next to you on the couch, I have not found it. I know those experiences are fleeting, and I suspect they won’t happen as much (or possibly at all) in the coming years. I just hope the future you realizes how much they meant to me. 

Watching you dance this year has brought unexpected joy into my heart. I say it was unexpected because I did not think seeing my daughter dance around the house could have that impact. But, it does. 

To that end, the song that came to mind when I was thinking about your birthday this year is Lee Ann Womack’s, “I Hope You Dance.” 

So much of the song stands out to me. For example, 

“I hope you never lose your sense of wonder.” 

My prayer for you is that you will always find wonder in the smallest of things, like the flowers in our garden or the sun shining on a beautiful summer morning.  

“Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance.” 

Nothing is more important than this. Hearing you sing worship songs in the shower makes my heart dance! 

“Never settle for the path of least resistance.” 

Life is about choosing the hard path. Continue to do the hard things well! 

“Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance.” 

This advice is for us all. God’s creation is all around us. Let us not miss it! 

“And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance…I hope you dance.” 

May your dancing continue now, and may it last through eternity. 

I am so grateful to have you as my daughter. JJ would be proud of the woman you are growing into. I am definitely proud. More than proud, however, I am in love. My love for you will never waver. 

Love, 

Dad

As I celebrate another year of life — birthday number 43 — I’m using today’s post to document some things I want to be true one year from now. 

As always, I am going to be vulnerable and real. If you read this blog regularly, that is what you get. No ghostwriter. Just me. To that end, I hope this post inspires you to think about your next year. What do you want to be true about it? What are you doing to pursue it? 

Here goes mine: 

Growing in my walk with Jesus

Most importantly, I want to grow in my walk with Jesus. I want to dig deeper into His Word, memorize more of it, and allow it to transform my personality. God, help me become more loving of other people. Help me lead with truth AND compassion. 

I also want to be someone who talks more openly with others about Jesus. And I know this will totally weird some of you out — which is not my intent. But the more I read about Jesus in His word, the more I see how his way is the way to life: It truly is more blessed to give than receive. Turning your cheek is better than spending your limited energy on fighting. And the pursuit of truth, especially in a culture that quite frankly is post-truth, is worthy of your pursuit. I could go on and on here, but I will say that my only hope is tied to the resurrected Jesus. 

I am not great. I am definitely sinful. Don’t let a blog post or LinkedIn profile with a few likes mislead you. I need Jesus, period. And I am unashamed to say that in this blog. If that weirds you out, so be it. I still love you because my cup runs over when I am full of Jesus’ love. 

When I am not, I am a jerk. 

A better husband and father

I want to be MORE faithful to Sarah. No confession is forthcoming, but I strive to be an even better husband 365 days from now than I am today. Period, bottom line. Sarah is still amazing to me. I need to cherish the limited time we have. While I hope it is another 50-plus years, there are no guarantees. 

I want to be a better dad to Will, Ben, and Sadie. What does “better” mean? I want to focus on the best things. That means — you guessed it — I want to talk more about Jesus and less about baseball. I am going to weird them out, too! Seriously, I have noticed that I often treat secondary things as main things and main things (like my faith in Jesus) as secondary. This has been entirely unintentional. But I am owning up to it. I will live this year differently. 

Further, I want to be the kind of dad who speaks love into his kids while teaching them the truth. What I mean by that is that I’m teaching them things like actions have consequences, life is not about participation trophies, and doing hard things is necessary. 

Finally, I will engage in their fun because I need more fun, and living in this broken world, they do too! 

My work at Hoffer Plastics

Have you noticed that I have not yet mentioned being a leader at Hoffer Plastics — or work in general? That makes me wonder: Why do I spend so much time worrying about Hoffer Plastics? 

Would getting the primary things right help or hurt my work at Hoffer Plastics? 

These are the questions that I’m pondering. What about you? 

One year from now, I want to be ALL-IN with our work at Hoffer Plastics. This does not contradict what I said above; it just comes in the appropriate order of priority. 

I want to be a better leader. I want to ask more questions, give more affirmations, and take more interest in people. And at the same time, I want to be the kind of leader who focuses on the few things that will move the needle for our organization rather than the many things we have to get done. 

To be sure, the latter things need to be done, but they cannot be done at the expense of the former. This is probably not applicable to everyone reading this blog, but it is for those in executive-level positions. To the best of our ability, we must look ahead six to twelve months and prepare our team for what is coming. 

I also want to be a more generous leader, giving team members, customers, and established partners the time they deserve.  

Finally, I want to be the kind of person who is rigid on the primary things and flexible on everything else. At my worst, I get stressed out about things that won’t matter. Will my sports teams figure it out? What will happen with the election? What’s the next book I should read to improve my leadership? These are things worth considering, but they are all secondary. I think about these questions and thousands of other things way too much — and at the expense of focusing on what truly matters. 

This is not a perfect list because I am not a perfect man. 

This IS an imperfect list because I am an imperfect man, saved by grace, thanks to Jesus. 

To another year

I have one last thought, and I hope Sarah reads this: I am thankful for another year of life! I am 43. Pass out t-shirts!  

I am thankful for another year. Thank you, God, for 43. 

Thank you, God, for another year. Thank you for Jesus, Sarah, the kids, and work. 

Yes, thank you that I have a job and get to work. 

Thank you for this blog and the fun I have writing it. 

Here is to another year! 

Series Introduction

It has become my annual tradition to write birthday letters to my kids on this blog. I was recently traveling on a business trip, and my mind turned to this year’s letters. 

My kids have so many attributes that I admire and treasure. This reminded me of Paul’s writing in Galatians about the “Fruits of the Spirit” (Galatians 5:22-23). As Paul teaches, these become evident in people when they abide in the Spirit of God. Or, in modern words, when our charger is connected to God, we are powered by him to display the attributes Paul refers to. 

I am totally biased and bragging, but God has produced these fruits in my kids. Therefore, in this year’s letters, I will identify three fruits that come to mind for each child. Before beginning, here is the scripture to keep in mind while reading these letters: 

[22] But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance (patience), kindness, goodness, faithfulness, [23] gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. [24] Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. [25] Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. [26] Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other. — Galatians 5:22-26 NIV

Dear Will,

I am writing this letter shortly after watching you play five baseball games over 48 hours. The next day, you walked 18 holes in a golf tournament despite the heat and humidity. Your energy reminds me of my own a long time ago, and now I can only stand in admiration. 

As Mom and I tell all three of you, your performance on the field does not matter all that much. You can strike out 100 times in a row, and we will not love you any less. Or, you can strike out 100 batters in a row, and we will not love you any more. As you age, I pray that you own this lesson: Unconditional love has zero conditions. 

And continuing on the theme of thinking about the Fruits of the Spirt, here are three fruits God has given you in abundance…

Patience 

Your patience has stood out during the baseball season this year. Despite success with your in-house team, you weren’t pitching in your all-star games. While I was frustrated, you seemingly were not. You stuck with it. When I asked whether you were frustrated about hitting lower in the lineup, your response was mature: “I have not gotten any big hits yet, so I should be in the lower part of the lineup for now.”

You were not dissuaded. You continued to show up and work at practices. Because of this, one of your coaches took a liking to you and began working with you on pitching. He taught you how to throw a “cutter” and advocated for you to get pitching opportunities. As your father, what I liked most about this was that I had nothing to do with it — this didn’t come as the result of me having some kind of talk with the coaches. It came because you were patient and hard-working. 

Fast forward to this past weekend, and there you were, closing out the first playoff game and throwing three scoreless innings in the second. You also had multiple big hits. Your patience was rewarded! 

Kindness 

Perhaps the most remarkable fruit you possess is your kindness. You can leave an all-star baseball game, come home and shower, and then play with your sister in a way that meets her where she is. This flexibility teaches me that I need to be the kind of man who meets people wherever they are, regardless of what I have going on. Your play with her also has a sense of freedom and joy that is instructive. My prayer for you is that you never lose this. Don’t “grow up” in this area. Instead, let your inner child continue to adulthood.

The other reason I think about your kindness is twofold. First, I think it is one of the defining features of your mother and something you have shared with her since you were born. Secondly, it is what I hear about you from your coaches. In fact, when you accidentally tossed your bat running to first base in an in-house league game in June, your coach told the opposing coach, “I know Will did not do that on purpose. He is the kindest kid on our team.” That was a “home run” for your mother and me. 

Self-Control 

While your kindness reminds me of your mother, your self-control (and discipline) remind me of myself. I can come home from lunch and know that you’ll be doing what you must to get your schoolwork done. Whether it’s Latin, science, or math, it doesn’t matter. I also know that you’ll practice baseball and golf with a commitment to excellence. 

However, one aspect of your self-control that I can learn from is your ability to stay cool in the moment. Whether you are pitching in a late-inning of a tournament game or playing in a golf tournament, you exhibit an outward expression of self-control and confidence. Potential results do not intimidate you. Rather, you just throw the next pitch or make the next shot. I admire this — and aim to embrace it in my own golf game and at work! 

One Last Reminder… 

One thing I have fought — and had to learn time and time again — is that my identity is not based on my performance. Honestly, at my worst, I am killing myself on the inside for missing the putt in golf, saying the wrong thing at work, and failing to lead our business to the success I know we can obtain. This is the downside of self-drive, determination, and discipline. 

The reality is that no amount of good work will ever save me or give me a lasting feeling of success and significance. 

I have discovered that Paul was right when he said, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:9. 

In this famous passage, Paul reminds the church of Corinth that human weakness (Paul’s thorn in the flesh) provides the ideal opportunity for the display of God’s power. 

Failure and weakness are inevitable. No amount of self-control, kindness, or patience will deliver you from this. Only Jesus will. And only with Jesus will you be able to exhibit these fruits amid weakness and failure. Doing so is maturity. 

The point is that regardless of your ability to do this, and despite the inevitable slip-ups, mistakes, and losses, your mom and I love you. 

There are no conditions. 

Love, 

Dad  

Series Introduction

It has become my annual tradition to write birthday letters to my kids on this blog. I was recently traveling on a business trip, and my mind turned to this year’s letters. 

My kids have so many attributes that I admire and treasure. This reminded me of Paul’s writing in Galatians about the “Fruits of the Spirit” (Galatians 5:22-23). As Paul teaches, these become evident in people when they abide in the Spirit of God. Or, in modern words, when our charger is connected to God, we are powered by him to display the attributes Paul refers to. 

I am totally biased and bragging, but God has produced these fruits in my kids. Therefore, in this year’s letters, I will identify three fruits that come to mind for each child. Before beginning, here is the scripture to keep in mind while reading these letters: 

[22] But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance (patience), kindness, goodness, faithfulness, [23] gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. [24] Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. [25] Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. [26] Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other. — Galatians 5:22-26 NIV

Dear Sadie,

I am writing your letter from a hotel in Northern Italy on the last day of a three-and-a-half-day business trip in early summer. Our trip ended with a dinner last night, at which one of the attendees asked me:  “I once was told that there is nothing better in the entire world than an 8-year-old daughter. Is that true?” 

As my emotions welled up, I could hardly answer. 

Love 

The first word that comes to mind when I think about you is love. Of course, I love your brothers, your mom, and Jesus, too! But I think about it in relation to you because you radiate love. As you enter a room, so does love. If your presence were weather, it would be the longest sunny day of the year because the love you radiate is energizing and warm. 

One of my favorite moments this year was watching you dance during your dance recital in May. For a moment, all the other girls disappeared, and you were alone (at least in my mind) twirling and smiling in the middle of the stage. It was a precious moment for me — one that I could relive a hundred lifetimes. 

Peace 

You’ve had conflicts with your brother Ben this year — nothing outside the norm, but they have been present. What’s behind this is often your twofold desire to have his time and attention and your drive for peace. You have a motherly desire for things to be right and peaceful. It is one of the things that I most admire about you. 

This is also one of the gifts that you give me. In addition to your love, your presence brings me a sense of peace, making all my cares, stresses, and worries disappear. There have been multiple occasions this year where you have snuggled up next to me, and all my problems have melted away like a snowman on a late winter’s day. You are simply a gift to me. 

Gentleness 

Finally, you have the most gentle soul of any one of us. This is exhibited by your sensitivity to animals — whether they are real or stuffed — it doesn’t matter! Even though you are the youngest, you mother your brothers by showing compassion to them through your gentleness. 

Nowhere is this more evident to me than through your hugs. There have been more times than I can count when, just before I am about to leave for the office in the morning, you get up from your breakfast and come over and hug me. Those moments are quite possibly the best moments of my life. They bring more love, peace, and gentleness into my soul than I can count for a thousand lifetimes. 

A Final Note 

As a father, “About Time” has become my favorite movie of all time. There are moments in that movie that make me think about your mother and all three of my kids. Beyond that, there is also the age-old lesson that time always passes, even for the time traveler. 

I don’t want this time to pass. As much as I look forward to days in the future, even walking you down the aisle, I do not want those days to come. 

At least not yet. 

From this movie, I learned how much I have to treasure life right now. Nothing is guaranteed, and the moments we have are all that we have. 

I have done my best to treasure these moments with you — and to be sure, you make them worth treasuring. The problem is that the attributes you display are so abundant and rich that it would take a thousand lifetimes to soak them all in and not miss anything. 

The reality is that however great these moments are, they are only a taste of what will come. Not only that, but the son of God, Jesus, exhibits them all in indescribable abundance. He, after all, is the tree from which our fruit originates. So, I will end this letter by treasuring every second I have with you this coming year and maintaining the perspective that the best is still to come in this world and the next. 

My life would not have been complete without you as my daughter. 

I thank Jesus for this every single day. 

I love you, 

Dad