This week I am so excited to have my first guest to post on my blog. Let me introduce him.

When I asked him to give me a little bit of Bio on himself, this was his response:

“Well, I’m 6’5. Rugged good looks. 3% body fat. Would have won Mr. Olympia if Arnold hadn’t cheated. And if Tony Hawk hadn’t come on the scene before me, people would have said, ‘Tony who?'”

🤣🤣🤗

So… I will tell you a little about him in my own words…

You can see that he views himself and the world with a lot of humor. He is raising three boys — and a little girl that was a — one last try and miracle for them. His sweet wife to this day still can’t believe how gracious God was to give them that sweet girl after much prayer from all three boys, parents, family, and friends. I will say to her… “See how much God loves you? You and all your family are special to Him.”❤️

They are a homeschooling family and try their best to see that each of the four children get as much one-on-one attention as possible, based on their personalities and what they love. My guest takes each child on a Dad Date by themselves as often as he can. He interacts with them based on their interests. He also has been known to have hair brushing sessions with his one and a half year old daughter, because she loves it.

He is an avid reader and shares that love with his family so much, they are frequently found in bookstores and thrift stores, shopping for books on their family outings.

He loves working out and has passed that love to his family. You will find all of them doing squats together with the youngest in the deepest squat position of all.

They all love being outdoors together.

He reads just about every genre… nothing seems to be off the table with him, and he is currently enrolled in Piedmont Bible College through his church. He handles all of the above while working hard — five days a week — at his day job.

About a year or so ago he finally started to share some short stories he had been writing with friends and family. We all loved them! Every story he writes pulls you in. Some are deep. Many are humorous. We have loved all of them. Today he has given me permission to share one of his recent short stories that I loved very much.

This guest is my son… Preston Green!

Thank you Preston, for allowing me the honor of sharing your work today. I know it will be enjoyed by all!

Ethereal

By Preston K. Green

Ethan had been drifting for years.

Every morning began the same way: he woke up to the glow of his phone, scrolling before his feet even touched the floor. His apartment felt heavy with silence—bare walls, blinds that filtered the daylight into a dull gray haze, a kitchen counter littered with the remains of convenience meals. He’d sigh, pull on his work clothes, and drive the same congested route to the office, listening to the hum of engines instead of anything meaningful.

At work, he blended into the beige walls and cubicles, doing his job with a kind of numb precision. What gnawed at him, though, wasn’t the monotony of the tasks, it was the conversations that swirled around him.

In the break room, a coworker would flip open his phone and show off photos of a hiking trip. Sunlit trails, mountain ridges, smiling faces gathered around a campfire. “It was unreal, man,” the coworker would say, pouring sugar into his coffee. “You gotta try it sometime.” Ethan would nod, smile politely, and swallow the hollow lump in his throat.

Another colleague had just bought a new house. A wide porch, a backyard with a firepit. She scrolled through pictures, narrating plans for paint colors and landscaping. “We’ll have people over all the time once it’s done,” she said. Ethan felt a pang so sharp he nearly winced. He didn’t even own a proper dining table.

The words hung around him like gnats—buzzing, annoying, impossible to swat away. And when he compared himself to all of them, he felt like a hollow shape of a man. He had none of what they had.

Social media was worse. Every night, after hours of zoning out in front of whatever series auto-played on his TV, he’d pick up his phone and thumb through lives that seemed brighter, fuller, happier. Friends he hadn’t spoken to in years posed with their kids at theme parks, toasted glasses of wine in foreign cities, beamed next to new cars and engagement rings. Even strangers, people he’d never meet, seemed to radiate the kind of ease he could never touch.

Every post whispered the same thing: This is what happiness looks like. This is what you don’t have.

Ethan would lie in bed afterward, staring at the ceiling, asking questions that hurt to admit: Why not me? Why can’t I get there? What’s wrong with me?

The chorus around him was always the same: Buy a house, you’ll be happy. Get a girlfriend, you’ll be happy. Lose weight, you’ll be happy. Earn more money, you’ll be happy. Find your passion, you’ll be happy.

It was like being surrounded by a thousand signs all pointing toward roads he couldn’t take. And the more he heard them, the more convinced he became that happiness was a locked room, and he’d never have the key.

But then one Tuesday—because turning points never announce themselves—he brought a book to work. It had been sitting on his shelf for months, forgotten, the spine uncracked. At lunch, instead of pulling out his phone to scroll, he opened it.

The first few pages didn’t change his life, but something stirred. The words slowed time down. They gave his mind something different to hold, something other than envy or emptiness. When the lunch bell rang and his coworkers filtered back to their desks, Ethan realized he felt… not happy, not exactly, but steadier.

He started bringing the book every day. Soon, he finished it. Then another.

One night, instead of numbing himself with more television, he dropped to the floor and tried a push-up. His arms shook, but he managed a handful. He laughed out loud, embarrassed in the privacy of his own apartment. The next night, he tried again. Slowly, he added more. Then jogging. His lungs ached, but he found himself almost looking forward to it.

In the evenings, he opened a Spanish workbook. Hola, ¿cómo estás? The syllables felt clumsy on his tongue, but fresh, like trying on clothes that almost fit. He read about history too—empires rising and crumbling, names of kings and generals who lived and died long before he was born. The more he learned, the more alive he felt.

But still, it hadn’t clicked. The longing was quieter now, but it lingered, like a shadow.

Then one evening, drained after another long day, he took a turn. Literally. Instead of the usual traffic-choked route home, he veered onto a county road he’d never bothered with.

The change was small at first—the hum of tires on open pavement, the absence of red brake lights. Then it opened into something bigger: farmland unfurling under the late sun, rows of corn catching the light like green waves. A handful of cows grazed by a split-rail fence, their movements unhurried, their bodies heavy and calm. Across the way, a meadow stretched into bloom. Wildflowers splattered in yellows, purples, and whites. Farther on, trees arched across the road, their branches painted gold by the setting sun.

He had an audiobook playing—a history he’d meant to start. The narrator’s voice wove through the quiet, steady and grounding.

The window was cracked, and the air smelled faintly of cut grass. The sunlight touched everything gently: the fields, the cows, the flowers, the blacktop stretching ahead. Ethan felt himself breathing deeper, slower.

And then, almost without trying, it clicked.

Happiness wasn’t in the houses or vacations or smiling photos of other people’s lives. It wasn’t waiting behind a finish line he’d never cross. It was here—in a book at lunch, in the rhythm of his feet while jogging, in a Spanish phrase spoken clumsily but with effort, in a sunlit road lined with cows and flowers.

It had always been here. He just hadn’t been looking.

As he drove, the audiobook played on, the sun hung bright, and the country road carried him forward between trees, flowers, and fields. For the first time in years, he felt not just steady, but full.

Ethan smiled—not because life was perfect, but because he finally saw it didn’t have to be.

If you enjoyed that story, come back next week for a very funny story from Preston that will make you laugh out loud.

Have a great week and read something good!