This week I’ve been celebrating people who’ve shaped me, inspired me, or simply made the world feel more whole. Today, the glaze goes to someone closer to the core: my cousin, Josh Wonder.
Josh is the second oldest of the four grandkids on my dad’s side. As kids, we spent countless holidays and summers together at our grandparents’—a rotating landscape of basketball games, riding lawn mowers, graduation ceremonies, weddings, and late-night laughter. We grew up in parallel, and I carry those memories like pages from an early chapter that still shapes the story today.
What’s remarkable is not just the bond we had back then—it’s the man he’s become. Josh built a beautiful life with his wife Sarah, raising two phenomenal kids. Their daughter is full of compassion and determination, the kind of young woman who loves animals and works hard for what she wants. Their son is an unstoppable athlete, fearlessly mastering his skateboard while forming his own compass for what’s right. You can’t fake that kind of character—it’s forged by example. And their dad sets one every day.
I’ve watched Josh hustle nonstop as a mail carrier in the brutal Texas heat. I’ve seen him juggle side jobs with grace, provide stability, show up, and somehow still remain kind. But then—he and Sarah decided that the good they were doing wasn’t enough. They opened their home as foster parents then adoptive parents, and in doing so, opened their hearts even wider. Today, they’re raising two sweet souls who are now heading off to school, surrounded by the kind of love that doesn’t just protect—it transforms.
What moves me most about Josh is that none of this is performative. He’s not seeking applause. He’s just being who he is: a strong back and a soft heart. A steady presence. A good man in a world that too often forgets how extraordinary that is.
We don’t always land on the same side of the ideological fence, but I’d sit beside him any day. In fact, my only real regret is that we don’t live close enough to share a beer every evening while the kids play—because I know we would. And that kind of ease, that mutual respect, is rare and sacred.
So today, I glaze Josh Wonder—not just for the role he plays in our family, but for the kind of man he’s chosen to become. It’s no small thing to build a life worth respecting. He’s done it. And the proof is in the lives he’s helped grow.
I hope you’ll take a moment to glaze someone in your own life today—whether they’re close by or simply close to your heart. One more day of glazing remains, and though this is the end of the week, it won’t be the end of this practice. We’ll return to it again in the second half of the year, as promised.