A Letter to My Son

It’s just after 7:30 a.m. on a foggy Wednesday morning in Texas. I’m walking slow. The air is thick. The world feels quiet.

It’s been 10 days since the last edition of this newsletter. That’s the longest gap I’ve taken since starting Navigating the Storm almost a year ago.

And I’m good with that.

Because this time, I wasn’t operating on my timeline. I was operating on God’s.

And He had something better in mind.

Life Update

Since we last spoke, a lot’s happened. I’ve crossed 50,000 followers on Instagram. TikTok is growing fast—charging toward 10,000. Facebook’s at 11k and monetized now, and I’ve brought in almost $500 since December 22. Wild. That income’s already helping offset the cost of a big recent purchase: my first compound bow. Kallie gave me her blessing on that one—something I’ve wanted for a long time. Something that will eventually put incredible, healthy food on our table.

I’ve got a follow-up call this week on a potential affiliate marketing deal with a company that aligns fully with my values. More opportunity. More abundance.

But that’s the side effect—not the goal.

The goal is impact. Always has been. Always will be.

As you may have heard, Josh and I decided to hit pause on the land business. We’re putting a bookmark in that chapter and turning the page for now. Not the end. Just a pivot. Josh is not just my business partner—he’s a brother. We met through GoBundance (for new readers: it’s the entrepreneurial mastermind I’m part of and work with), and we’ll continue building together. Sometime soon we are going to be getting back to our YouTube channel, Defiantly Human. Our content will be focused on creating independence from the system. I think many of you will enjoy it. Be on the lookout for new content within the next few months. 

I’ll still be buying land. Letting it sit. Letting it grow. Maybe one day I’ll liquidate it. Maybe I’ll leave it to my kids. Either way, the long game continues.

My parents were in town for the holidays. We waited together as the due date came and went—December 26th. Still no baby. They left early the morning of January 4th.

And about 4 hours after they left, at 6:38 a.m. that morning…

He came.

To My Son — Everett

You arrived at 6:38 a.m. on January 4th, 2026.

You were late as far as your due date is concerned.

But you were right on time.

The experience? I don’t even have the words, little man.

It was wild. It was scary. It was intense and sacred and holy and gritty and beautiful—all at once.

Your mom… man. You’ll understand one day. You’ll look back and see the strength, the grace, the power she carried. I already loved her with my whole heart. But watching her bring you into the world—naturally, fully, in her feminine glory—took my love to a whole new level. She’s incredible. You’ll see.

When you came out, it was scary at first. You weren’t breathing properly right away. They had to work on you. I was holding your mom’s hand, worried for you and for her. She’d just been through hell and heaven all at the same time.

So I prayed.

Not just a desperate prayer, but a prayer built on the daily conversations I’ve had with God for the last few years. Because I don’t believe in only calling on Him in crisis. I talk to Him daily. That’s what a relationship is. Thats what friendship is. 

And He answered.

The respiratory therapist looked over and said, “He’s breathing. He’s doing great. We just need to get his lungs cleared out the rest of the way.”

And then came the moment.

They told me the time you were born: 6:38.

I can’t explain it, but the second I heard that number, peace washed over me. Like it meant something.

I didn’t rush to look it up. I just sat with it.

And today, I finally did. And this number… it represents abundance. Balance. Truth. Strength. Family. Creativity. Spiritual alignment. Responsibility.

Everything I want to live for. Everything I want to raise you in.

Everett, your arrival was a divine signal: stay aligned, stay the course, be the man your son will model his life after.

And I’ll be honest—I haven’t always been that man.

This All Started in 2021

Back in April 2021, your mom got pregnant.

But it was an ectopic pregnancy—meaning the baby, your brother or sister, was in the wrong place. She started bleeding internally. We lost that baby. And we almost lost her.

That moment wrecked me. I was scared shitless. And part of why I was so afraid was because I wasn’t the man I am today—not even close. I was broken. Depressed. Empty. Wandering through life. Lost. No vision. No purpose. No values guiding me.

That loss—combined with the realization that I wasn’t ready to be a father—was the wake-up call.

Since that day, I’ve been working.

Healing. Building. Training.

Not for a title. Not for money. Not for recognition. For you.

Because I knew you would come.  I didn’t know when, but I knew you’d arrive.

And I needed to be ready.

So no—this didn’t begin on January 4th. It began years ago, in the dark. And you’ve been my reason ever since.

“They Said It Would Be Hard”

Everyone said this would be hard.

That we’d be exhausted. That we’d be sleep-deprived. That I wouldn’t be able to train, or work, or do anything I care about.

And yes, your mom is waking up constantly to feed you. And yes, I’m up checking on her and making sure you’re both good.

But I’m not tired.

Because this is love. And love isn’t heavy. It’s fuel.

I’ve been training for this for years.

And I want you to remember this: you are not a burden. You are the biggest source of inspiration I’ve ever known.

Every man who said I’d have to sacrifice everything to be a dad?

They were wrong…but I knew this. Because I know who I am. 

You don’t make me weaker. You make me stronger.

You make me want to keep training, keep creating, keep speaking truth, keep showing up—because you’re watching now.

And I won’t let you down.

What I Want You to Know

I wrote a letter like this before you were born. Before I knew you were you. But now that you’re here… I need to say it again. Clearer. Stronger.

I will not always be by your side. I have many important things to accomplish that may pull me away from you from time to time. 

And as hard as it will be to step away, I understand that I’m meant to be an example.

Of what it looks like to know who you are.
To stand for what you believe.
To reject what you don’t.
To live with values, vision, and purpose.
To take responsibility.
To own your mistakes.
To do hard things.
To live in purpose.

That’s what makes a man.

Not perfection.

Presence. Ownership. Purpose. Truth.

And I won’t just model that—I’ll talk to you about it. The mistakes. The challenges. The decisions. The reasons why.

Ask me questions.

I’ll answer them honestly—even when it’s hard. Especially then.

You were born for a reason. And part of my purpose is to make sure you have the foundation to discover yours.

My Final Ask

Two things, little man:

Stay curious.
Ask questions. Push boundaries. Try things. Break some shit. We’ll talk about it. Learn from it. Grow from it.

Forgive me.
I won’t be perfect. I’ll get frustrated. I’ll stumble. But I’ll own it. And I’ll keep showing up.

And remember—it’s not just me.

You’ve got the most incredible mom. Grandparents who love you deeply. Family you can lean on. We’re here to guide you, not shield you.

You’re going to do dangerous things. That’s part of being a man.

My job isn’t to stop you.

It’s to make sure you know how to do dangerous things safely.

That’s how you grow.

That’s how you become the man you were put on this earth to be.

And I cannot wait to walk that road with you, make epic memories with you, and watch you become a gift to this world in whatever way you are meant to be.

With all my heart,
Love, Dad

Song of the Week

“Just the Two of Us” – Will Smith

I used to play this on repeat when I was younger. Back when I just liked the beat and thought Will Smith was cool because of Fresh Prince.

But now… I get it.

This one means something different today.

Love. Knowledge. Discipline too. I pledge my life to you.