01/12/2026
Sixteen years ago today, I had no idea God was handing me a sidekick.
Lily came into this world ready to work. By two years old, she was dropping lifters into a ‘68 GTO with grease-stained hands that barely wrapped around the tools. She didn’t ask if she could help - she just climbed up on whatever she needed to and got after it.
Lawnmowers, muscle cars, didn’t matter. If I was turning wrenches, she was right there.
That fearlessness never left.
Today she walks into the deadliest neighborhoods in America with us - places most people won’t drive through with their doors locked - because she understands something most sixteen-year-olds don’t: hope matters more than safety, and people matter more than comfort.
She’s brilliant, fiercely independent, talented as hell at cello and acting, and she’s become a beautiful young woman who doesn’t need anyone’s approval to know who she is.
The kid who helped me rebuild engines is now the young woman who helps us rebuild lives.
I adopted two older daughters later - both adults now, both incredible - but Lily was my first ride-or-die. She goes into the hood to do hoodrat stuff with dad, except the hoodrat stuff now is carrying hope to people the world forgot about.
Happy birthday, baby girl. You’ve been making me proud since before you could walk, and I can’t wait to see what kind of chaos you create in this world.
Love you, Lily Belle.
