My son Sean loves music! Everywhere he goes, he has music playing or humming and singing some song. Music helps him cope and focus on difficult tasks, and he, like me, enjoys sharing his passions with others. He loves converting all his friends into fans of the songs or artists that he is currently into. He studies these artists and uses Google to learn all he can. Years ago, he met recording artist Tori Kelly, and after meeting my children, she told me, "That son of yours has the music in him. Keep encouraging him".

I'm not one of those parents who thinks his young child will be the next music sensation. My kids are amazing, and I will support them with their passions, but my heart won't be broken ten years from now if Sean doesn't tour with Ed Sheeran as his opening act. Believe me! I would love to retire early! My heart will be broken if he no longer enjoys music like he does now. I want my children to be happy, but for them to grow, my wife and I need to push them into uncomfortable situations.

Sean has been taking singing lessons for the past year. When we ask our kids if they want to start something, we are clear that they have to see it through. We don't quit or walk out on commitments. If you start it, you will finish it. In this case, his months of lessons culminated in a holiday performance. He would have to sing on stage, alone, and in front of a crowd. When starting the lessons, he quickly agreed to it because he just wanted to sing, but as the concert day approached, the self-doubt and stage fright began to kick in. For the week leading up to the performance, he threatened to run off stage, refused to go, and let his stage fright control his emotions. We (Christal and I) held firm to the Murphy way and reminded him that Murphy's don't quit.

A few days before Sean's performance, I was at the House of Blues in Houston, preparing to introduce the opening act for an annual radio station Christmas concert. Rob Thomas was the headliner; DeanLewis was the support, and a new artist named John K was the opening act. I always bring on the opening act because I have a knack for remembering the names of all the sponsors and charities involved in support of these events (I don't bring cue cards on stage because, to me, that seems insincere). It also guarantees that everyone gets their promised promotional and title mentions and most importantly, it allows me to start drinking sooner. I kid, but this is one of the last big promotions we put on for the year, and I want to enjoy the show as soon as possible. It's a lot of work to put these concerts together, so after the stage announcement, I can put my brain to rest for a bit and enjoy the fruits of our labors.

Per the run of show schedule, I showed up five minutes before the first performance of the night and waited side stage for my cue to grab the microphone and walk on stage.

Side note: if the first thing you say when walking on stage in front of 1000s of people is "make some noise," then you need to #Tryharder with your stage announcement creativity. You're lame if you do that. Anyway, that's a radio guy pet peeve of mine.

While waiting for my cue to introduce the opening act, I saw a guitar pick on the ground. I didn't know who it belonged to or what band might have used it recently, but I picked it up and stuck it into my pocket. You should always pick up a guitar pick. It's one of those things you have to do. It could have an epic story attached to it, or it may have belonged to Mick Jagger--unless you find one on the bathroom floor of a concert venue. Go ahead and leave that one there. Yuck. Ewww. No!

I placed the pick in my jacket pocket, grabbed the microphone, and introduced the band. I didn't say "make some noise," nor did I bring an index card.

Flash forward to the evening of Sean's Christmas performance. His confidence was rattled, and his body language was that of someone with the weight of the world on his shoulders. I hate seeing my kids like this, but I know the stress was self-imposed, and he needed to be pushed and encouraged in this challenge. As we dropped him off with his teacher and the other 30-plus performers, I knelt down, gave him a big hug, and handed him the guitar pick still inside my jacket pocket. I explained that the pick helped me make my stage announcements during the concert, and I told him if he got nervous, reach down into his pocket and rub his fingers over the smooth, triangular-shaped pick. It's a lucky pick, and it was meant for me to pick it up and share it with someone who needed it.

He took the pick, hugged me, and sat in the waiting area while the rest of us found our seats in the audience. According to the schedule, Sean was to perform somewhere in the middle of the list of performers. As a parent, there's no winning when sitting through a show like this. If your kid goes early, you still have to sit and watch everyone else's kid sing Christmas songs. If you go last, you still have to sit and watch everyone else's kid sing Christmas songs. For Sean's sake, I wanted it to happen sooner rather than later so he wouldn't have to sit and worry about it for 90 minutes before singing.

The show starts, and the third performer runs off after forgetting the words to her song. I look across the room at Sean, and he's nodding his head, "No," as in, "I don't want to do this." A few more kids performed, and I saw him dancing and head-bopping a bit. When the tenth kid got up to sing, Sean stood up, ran across the room, and hugged me and my wife tightly. I thought for sure this was his last-ditch effort to get out of performing. I whisper to him, "You got this, dude." Sean steps back, takes the pick out of his pants, puts it in my hand, and says, "You need this more than me. I'm good". I kiss him on the head, he hugs my wife and daughter and runs back to his seat. A few kids later, it's Sean's turn to perform. And what does he do? Nails it! In my opinion, I've never heard a better version of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer in my entire life! He even took a moment to dab at the end of the song to put punctuation on a long, stressful week. We pushed him, he did it, and what do you know, he didn't die.

Sean Murphy is my hero.

As a parent, it's important to push your kids into new and sometimes uncomfortable situations. They need you to be their compass and direct them towards things that will scare them. #Tryharder to stay firm and not let them quit things they start. This isn't a video game; this is life, and as painful as it is to watch them suffer and labor through the process, they learn a lot about themselves. You learn a lot about them as well.