Building More Than Just a Home
My Dearest Children,
I am so deeply grateful to have had you both out here this weekend—even if it was just for one night. Seeing your faces light up when you saw our new home for the very first time in person nearly brought me to tears. The sheer size of it all must have felt almost unreal to your young minds. And truthfully, five years ago, if someone had asked me whether I could build something like this with my own two hands, I would have laughed and said, “Heck no!”
Yet here it stands.
Built for you to see, to touch, to explore, and—one day—to truly call your own. I hope this place becomes a canvas for your childhood memories, a safe haven for your dreams, and a symbol of how much you are loved. May the years ahead be filled with laughter echoing through these beams and muddy boots by the door after wild adventures.
I know I may get into trouble for letting you sleep out here with me, and that thought does weigh on me. But I can no longer justify or argue my worthiness as your father. I am your father. I always have been. And I have never—not ever—knowingly put you in harm’s way. Every decision I make is out of love for you both.
This weekend was a treasure. We laughed, played “hop hop bunny” on the trampoline, fed the chickens with Twitch, visited the sheep in the pasture, made s’mores and shared meals under a half-finished roof that somehow already feels like home.
Jaime, my heart swelled with pride watching you step forward to help raise the final rafter. And then—without hesitation—you suited up in the harness and climbed 22 feet into the air to help tarp the frame and protect it from the rain. I was speechless. You’re becoming such a capable, courageous young man. Your strength and willingness to help mean the world to me.
And Finnley, my beautiful little princess—brave, curious, and ever-hopeful—you are a light that brightens every corner of my day. Even when things don’t go as planned, you keep smiling and trying. That quiet resilience is a rare and beautiful gift. Never let anyone make you feel small for it. Never stop being you.
And then, the hardest part—saying goodbye.
It broke my heart when it was time to go and, Finnley, you began to cry—almost uncontrollably. When I gently asked what was wrong, you looked up at me with tear-filled eyes and said, “I don’t want to leave, Daddy. I want to stay with you.”
I didn’t tell you in that moment, but I was crying too. Holding back those tears, I felt the full weight of love and longing crash into me all at once. That moment will stay with me forever.
Though the A-frame is still incomplete, that night—hearing your laughter and seeing your eyes sparkle beneath the beams—it felt more like home than any finished house ever could. This build has always been about more than shelter. It’s about us.
I am so thankful for God’s provision and grace through each stage of this journey. He’s the One who strengthens my hands when they are tired, and gives me courage when I falter. My prayer is that we’ll have many more weekends like this—of building, of learning, of simply being together.
I love you both more than words could ever hold. And I will remain here for you—for as long as God allows me breath.
Forever your dad,
With all my heart,
— Daddy
“By wisdom a house is built, and through understanding it is established; through knowledge its rooms are filled with rare and beautiful treasures.”
— Proverbs 24:3–4
