Morning Thad. And Happy Birthday. Just for fun, see if this story sounds familiar to you.

Within days of his thirty-seventh birthday, a young man enters significant new employment.  Fifth job, fourth state in his fledgling, emerging, fifteen-year career. Previous posts, with their varied degrees of pleasantness, left him with skills and scars, as well as a heightened sense of professionalism and perspective. Credentials and credibility, resolve and resilience. And a modicum of hope. The journey seemed longer than it was, and less direct than it could have been. Yet, the arrival seems punctuated by providence and is affirmed and blessed by those who know and love him best. The along for the ride wife, with their one each middle and grade schooler.  And parents quite proud of their progeny. He is a firstborn with dreams deferred, now finding a new beginning staring him right in the face.  And it seems to be smiling.

This is you. Today. On your birthday morning.  I could not be happier for you, the newly minted Senior Financial Advisor for Morgan Stanley at the Tampa outpost. That’s pretty high cotton. But it is cotton you are ready to pick. The fields you have worked u to now have prepared you well. Three great universities, with their highs and lows. Edward Jones in the middle of The Great Recession. Head held high in Wells Fargo’s lowest days. Landing at the intersection of vocation and military aspiration, just in time for USAA to divest themselves of your division. Still, you made the most of the more limited palate, taking care of the people who looked to you for advice, direction and security. Part planner, part pastor, you saw those souls on the other end of the line. You did well and you did good. Your patience has finally paid off as God and the financial industry have both seen fit to enlarge your territory. I hope you feel worthy of the faith both have placed in you. And of the rewards that will come with it.

And, in case you didn’t catch it, that word picture described me too in eerily symmetrical detail. The year was 1997 and we had just moved to Monroe. Age, family construct, career path, the works. While I’m not quite sure what to make of all that coincidence, I couldn’t not notice.  And as you have no doubt figured out, noticing is kind of my thing.

I was right where you are now when I took on the challenge of pastoring that troubled lot of folks.  In time, they embraced us back and made us a significant part of each other’s stories. We grew together and did some things that many folks said could not be done. It turned out that everything I had done before unwittingly prepared me for the complex and compelling calling

Seems it is like that for you as well.

It was rewarding. Our station in life changed significantly, along with our circle of friends. They loved us and let us love them, and those relationships are still treasured.  I did good work, and feel certain it mattered and is still bearing fruit. I take pride and comfort in that. That move made it possible to offer you and your brother something many folks never have. I know you join me in recognizing and giving thanks for that. One day, your girls look at you and this moment, and feel the same.

One last word. When you were little more than a toddler, your mom took a picture of you on a golf course as you pulled the ball out of the cup on the eighteenth hole. Years later you gave that picture to me in a golf themed frame that read “Those Who Finish the Course Discover God’s Perfect Plan.” I kept that picture above my desk as I labored away on my doctoral dissertation. It was in my face any time I felt discouraged or tempted to give up. It’s over my shoulder as I write those words. Your course, like mine, is a long way from finished. But you have just marked a significant leg of the trek. Take a moment to celebrate. I know I will. It’s all part of God’s perfect plan.

I love you son, and I am proud of you. Happy birthday. Here’s to hoping we both share thirty-seven more.

Dad