For the 100th episode of A Good Pour, I sat down with my dad. We talked about military service, cancer, faith, family, near-death experiences, handwritten letters, and the kind of life that quietly shapes generations.
And honestly, I cried through a lot of it.
Not because this episode was polished or perfect. But because it was real. It reminded me that the people who shape us most often do it in ordinary ways over a long period of time.
A conversation at the kitchen table.
A prayer before bed.
A letter written on your birthday.
A parent showing up again and again.
That kind of consistency changes people.
“God Has a Purpose for Me”
My dad has survived a lot.
Two helicopter crashes. Desert Storm. A serious heart issue. Multiple battles with cancer. A fall down a full flight of stairs. More close calls than most people experience in one lifetime.
I’ve joked for years that he has nine lives.
But when I asked him about surviving all of it, his answer wasn’t dramatic. It was steady.
He said his mom always told him:
“God has a purpose for you.”
That belief has carried him through every hard season.
Not perfectly.
Not without fear.
But faithfully.
And I think that’s part of what I’ve learned from him over the years. Faith doesn’t always remove uncertainty. Sometimes it simply gives you enough strength to keep moving forward.
Faith That Shows Up Every Day
One of the things I’ve always admired about my dad is that his faith isn’t performative.
It’s woven into his everyday life.
He starts every morning with devotionals. He talks about serving others naturally, not as something impressive, but as something expected. He believes community matters. He believes people matter.
And during his time serving in the military, that faith shaped how he viewed others.
He shared stories about racial tension during his early years in service and how his faith reminded him that every person carried equal value in God’s eyes.
That perspective mattered then.
It still matters now.
Sometimes the strongest faith isn’t loud. Sometimes it simply changes the way you treat people.
Desert Storm and Making the Best of Hard Things
My sixth-grade year, my dad was deployed to Desert Storm for nine months.
My mom stayed home with three kids while he stepped away from his career and into a desert thousands of miles away.
Listening to him describe that season felt both heartbreaking and strangely beautiful.
They built showers from 55-gallon drums because there weren’t proper facilities. They decorated Christmas trees with Tabasco bottles from MREs. They acted out the nativity story in the middle of the desert under a sky full of stars.
And somehow, even in difficult conditions, they still found ways to laugh.
That part stayed with me.
We can acknowledge hard things without letting them steal every bit of joy.
Travel Changes You
One of the greatest gifts my parents gave us was a love for travel.
Not luxury travel.
Not bucket-list travel.
Perspective-giving travel.
The kind that teaches you gratitude when you come home.
My dad talked about flying helicopters over places like Korea, Japan, Micronesia, and the Philippines as a young man and realizing how big the world really was. He wanted his children and grandchildren to experience that too.
We talked about trips to Haiti together and how seeing both hardship and joy side by side changes you.
Travel reminds you that your way of living isn’t the only way.
It stretches compassion.
It teaches humility.
It helps you pay attention.
And then somehow, home feels even sweeter when you return.
The Letters I’ll Keep Forever
Toward the end of the episode, I surprised my dad by reading letters he wrote to me years ago.
One was from my 12th birthday.
Another was from when I turned 16.
They were full of encouragement, wisdom, expectations, faith, and love.
In one letter, he wrote:
“Find love by being loving. Receive help by being helpful. Receive smiles by smiling.”
In another, he wrote about wanting me to grow into a woman of integrity, faith, service, and strong character.
As a parent now myself, I realize those letters were building something in me long before I understood it.
Words matter.
Consistency matters.
The way we love people matters.
Sometimes the seeds we plant take years to fully grow.
What Cancer Changed
This recent battle with cancer was different.
Harder.
Longer.
More exhausting.
My dad talked honestly about what it feels like to hear the word “cancer” and not know what comes next. He talked about prayer. About surrender. About realizing again that life is precious.
But one thing that made me smile was hearing that he still has a list on his desk titled:
Reasons I Want to Live to 100
At the top of the list?
Future great-great-grandchildren.
That’s my dad.
Always thinking about family.
Always looking ahead with hope.
100 Episodes Later
When I started A Good Pour, I had no idea we’d reach 100 episodes.
I just knew I wanted to tell meaningful stories.
Stories about good work.
Stories about people.
Stories that remind us to slow down and pay attention.
This episode felt like the right way to mark that milestone.
Not with business advice or growth strategies.
But with gratitude.
For family.
For community.
For faith.
For people who quietly show us how to live well.
And maybe that’s the lesson I keep coming back to after this conversation:
We get one life.
So serve people well.
Love deeply.
Write the letter.
Take the trip.
Keep showing up.
And when hard things come, keep your faith close.
You never know who’s learning from the way you live.