parenting

  • The Gifts Money Can’t Buy

    ByAllen

    I remember the 1996 craze when parents were fighting in toy aisles and paying $1,500 for a thirty-dollar Tickle Me Elmo. We often convince ourselves that a miracle in a box can make up for a year of missed bedtimes, but the older I get, the clearer it becomes that what children treasure most can’t be scalped or traded. If you’re feeling the pressure to buy the “perfect” gift this year, come read why a twelve-dollar plastic spy kit and a firm “no” to a Cadillac were the greatest inheritances my fathers ever gave me.

  • The Betrayal of the Needle

    ByAllen

    His son stared up at the doctor with wide-eyed curiosity — right until the needle hit. Then he turned to his father with a look of pure outrage. How could you let this happen? It’s the same look we give God when the job falls through, the prayer goes unanswered, the grade comes back at 52. But what if the needle is the protection? What if the closed door is the blessing? A retired AP Economics teacher looks back at crushed students, career disappointments, and a mother-in-law’s quiet wisdom at a funeral — and finds a Father who never betrayed anyone.

  • The Dollar-Thirty-Nine Tribute

    ByAllen

    I’ve eaten on cruise ships with artisan bakers and dined in restaurants where the bread has a crust you have to fight with, yet every Thanksgiving, I still buy the cheap brown-and-serve rolls in the plastic bag. I don’t buy them for the flavor; I buy them because they are a dollar-thirty-nine tribute to a working-class father who didn’t have much, but always made sure we were fed. If you find yourself holding onto a “useless” tradition this year, come read why those little echoes and gummy rolls are the way we keep our loved ones at the table long after their chairs have gone empty.

  • The Cost of a Manufactured Winter

    ByAllen

    In this piece, I look at the uniquely Texan insanity of cranking the A/C down to 60 just so we can light a “cozy” fire in the fireplace . It’s a humorous admission of how hard we work to stage a perfect holiday feeling, even if it means burning logs and electricity at the same time . But beneath the absurdity lies a deeper truth: we manufacture these traditions because we are terrified that without the physical reminders, the spiritual thread will snap for the next generation .

  • The Millionaire I Never Was

    ByAllen

    I was seventeen years old when a man in a sharp suit convinced me I’d be a millionaire by the time I hit thirty. I spent years chasing that low-hanging fruit, only to realize much later that falling short of that goal was one of God’s greatest kindnesses to me. If you’ve ever felt like a failure for not reaching your youthful ambitions, come read why the “richest man in six counties” usually doesn’t have a million dollars in the bank.

  • Beyond the Plastic Mask

    ByAllen

    I remember when the height of spectacular fashion was a fifty-nine-cent plastic Dracula mask held on by a single rubber band and two staples. Those cheesy costumes never really scared anyone, but as I grew older, I faced real terrors like a young wife’s tumor and the crushing weight of a mortgage I couldn’t pay. If you are pacing the floor tonight worried about the future, come read why the best way to find peace is often to look back at the mountains God has already moved for you.

  • Fresh Grace Daily

    ByAllen

    My stubbornness and selfishness tend to stick to me like old gum on the bottom of a shoe. I’d love to claim that I’ve outgrown the tendency to wander off like a toddler in a department store, but the truth is I still try to drive the bus and immediately get lost in the weeds. Thankfully, God doesn’t require a sparkling resume—just the admission that I need a fresh batch of mercy before the sun even comes up.