#Inconsistent Father

Fatherhood- Parenthood, we have so much to learn from our children and the stages they are in life. Sometimes the lessons we think they need to learn aren’t the correct ones for the time. Keep an open heart. It will come to you. 💙🙏

I’m watching my husband raise two boys into men who will know how to feel, how to love, and how to treat a woman with respect—and I don’t take that lightly. He’s teaching them that strength isn’t loud, it’s steady. That kindness isn’t weakness. That keeping your word matters. They’re learning from the way he loves me, the way he shows up even when he’s tired, the way he leads with patience instead of pride. Raising good men starts with a good man—and I’m so thankful ours is him.

fathers I know would do anything for their kids. They work longer hours. Take the extra shifts. Carry stress they never talk about. Sacrifice sleep, energy, and sometimes their own peace… all to provide a better life. And providing matters. But somewhere along the way, many men were taught that being a good father only meant bringing home money — even if it meant missing bedtime stories, school pickups, random Tuesday laughs, and the little moments that quietly become the memories their children remember forever. One day the house gets quieter. The toys disappear. They stop asking you to watch. Stop reaching for your hand. And you realize you successfully provided… but the years you were doing it for are already gone. What if you didn’t have to choose? What if building income didn’t cost you presence? What if providing and being there could exist at the same time? Because no amount of money can buy back a childhood you weren’t present for. Build a life that lets you witness it while it’s happening. DM me BUILD to start building something of your own.

We carry the title “Dad” like we’re supposed to already know the answers. Like there’s a manual hidden somewhere we missed. Truth is every night, when the house goes quiet and the lights go off, a lot of us are still just boys replaying the day in our heads, wondering if we said the right thing… if we were patient enough… if we’re doing right by the people who call us home. Fatherhood is like building a house while living inside it. You’re learning as you go. You’re going to mismeasure. You’re going to hit your thumb with the hammer. That doesn’t make you a bad builder. It makes you human. So have compassion on yourself. You’re not failing you’re foundations in progress. Your kids don’t need a perfect dad. They need a present one. One who gets back up. One who keeps learning. One who leads with love even when he gets it wrong. This is your first time too. Give yourself the same grace you’d want your children to give themselves one day.

We are so lucky to have a husband and dad like this guy 🥲♥️ My biggest flex is my kids having the best dad. We love you and appreciate all of your hard work. I know we don’t say it enough, but we’re always thinking it. Dad is the center of our world 🌎 🫶🏼

The struggle is real! I am not complaining I just want to advocate for so many guys tha go out there and just do it and they sacrifice one thing or another in the process. We live in a day where we should be able to do both. But it is a very delicate line to walk. What are your thoughts.

Just imperfect parents doing our best to raise the next generation of good human beings. Keep showing up.

I think this is a key marker of being ready for the next step…but keen to hear what parents of girls think??

I used to think my past disqualified me from ever becoming a good father. I grew up with an awful example—one who chose drugs over his own children, who couldn’t show love or gratitude for the kids he was blessed with, who used physical and verbal abuse as often as he could for reasons I’ll never fully understand. And when I was 12 years old, he abandoned me and my family altogether. If you had asked me a few years ago what a good father looks like, I would’ve told you I had no idea—because I didn’t grow up with one. But the more I reflected, the more I realized I learned more than I ever gave myself credit for. I learned what a father shouldn’t be. That realization forced me to live with deeper intentionality. To choose presence when absence was all I knew. To choose patience when anger was modeled. To choose my family—every single day—over anything else this world tries to put in front of me. A daily choice to love, to serve, and to protect. Breaking the cycle doesn’t mean pretending my past never happened. It means refusing to pass it on. Everything that happened to me ends with me. Now every hug, every bedtime, every “daddy” feels like a chance to rewrite the story. I may not be perfect, but my girls will always know they are safe, chosen and deeply loved. And that matters to me more than anything.

I grew up learning what a father shouldn’t be. Watching you love, protect, and show up for our family heals parts of me I thought were broken. Our son is lucky to call you Daddy. ❤️ Tell me one word that describes a good dad 👇🏻

One of my greatest prayers is that our home feels honoring for him. That when he walks in, he feels peace. That our children know the value of a present father. God didn’t just give me a husband. He gave my children a father. And that role is sacred. If you’re grateful for a godly man in your home, drop a 🤍