My name isn't Cannon Glenn.
And this isn’t a photo of me.
I’ll explain.
I’m a foster dad. Some of the kids in my home belong to other families. They’re with me just while their parents work things out. That means I can’t share their real names or pictures.
Plus, I’m a protective father. I’ve adopted all of my children from the foster care system, and frankly, there are a few people that I’d prefer to keep out of their lives. My kids have enough challenges as it is.
But the stories I share — those are totally true. Every one.
I'm a real dad with a real family who all struggle to live in a way-too-real world.
My faith in humanity and in the God who made each one of us is also very, very real.
My wife and I have had a lot of kids come through our home in the last decade and a half.
So far, eight of those little champs have joined our family forever through the miracle of adoption.
Some of them are not so little anymore. The boys who came to us as teens years ago might soon become dads themselves. I’m overwhelmed when I think about the circle they are about to complete.
Latest Blogs
I Just Crossed the F Line
As a kid, my mouth was so pure that I blushed every time I heard Winnie the P–h’s last name. My lips were immaculate, raunch-free, pristine. That record has been broken all apart now. I just said … what I’d just said … to my baby girl, my little Firefly. And she heard it with both ears. And it broke her.
To My 13-Year-Old Daughter Who Is Pregnant
I’m sorry, little Firefly. I should have protected you from this. I’m your father. I should have done more to steer you away from everything that led you into this place. That was my job, and I didn’t do it right. But I will be here with you, Honey. Mom will be here, too. We will make it through this, and you will be incredible.
Walk! Don’t Run
I heard once that parents worry about their kids as a safeguard, as a deterrent against the calamities that otherwise inevitably befall them. Those poor parents who blithely savor the everyday pleasure of their children without the stain of dread that it will all be gone in the next blink — those people won’t know what hits them when the reckoning arrives. I want to be prepared.