He hit the ground. Hard. And I just stood there.

Grandpa hurried over.

"Are you okay?"

My five-year-old son didn't answer.

He just looked up, tears still in his eyes.

And I'll never forget the look on his face.

But let me back up.

We'd just watched a show where people were running through an obstacle course.

Apparently, that was all the inspiration my son needed.

He went into our backyard and built his own.

It took up nearly the entire yard.

He'd run down the slide, jump over a stump, cross a makeshift tightrope, work through a jump rope, zigzag around toys, and jump over the big water-filled base of our basketball hoop.

He'd already run it several times.

Then Grandpa showed up.

Naturally, my son wanted to show him what he could do.

So off he went.

Down the slide.

Over the stump.

Across the tightrope.

Through the toys.

Then he came to the basketball hoop.

One of the easiest obstacles on the course.

And he tripped.

Hard.

I was standing about 30 feet away, but grandpa was right there and went over to check on him.

"Are you okay?"

My son was crying.

I waited, curious to see what he'd do.

He wasn't down for more than a few seconds.

Then he looked up.

Tears were still in his eyes.

But there was something else on his face.

Pure determination.

He didn't even answer Grandpa.

He just got up.

And kept running.

And right then, I was incredibly proud of him.

Not for finishing the course or proving he could do it. He'd already done that several times.

I was proud because he was able to find a determination stronger than the pain of falling.

When he finished, I told him how proud I was that he'd gotten back up and completed the course.

Because that was the part I wanted him to remember,  that he could do hard things.

That falling down didn't mean he was finished, but he could get back up and try again.

I believe resilience is one of the most important things our boys can develop to be successful in every area of their life, not just financially.

But for every part of their life, relationships, marriage and family, and their relationship with God.

Life is going to knock them down and we won't always be standing 30 feet away when it happens.

I want my boys to know that a setback doesn't have to be the end of their story.

But here's something else I've been thinking about.

What are we teaching our boys to value when we praise them?

Psychologists Claudia Mueller and Carol Dweck explored this in six studies with fifth graders.

Some children were praised for their intelligence. Others were praised for their effort.

After encountering failure, the children praised for intelligence showed less persistence and poorer performance on the study tasks than those praised for effort. They were also more likely to attribute failure to a lack of ability.

That gives me something to think about.

Because as fathers, we naturally celebrate accomplishments.

The goal.

The good grade.

The finished mission.

And we should.

But if we only recognize the result, what happens when our boys don't succeed?

What happens when they try something hard and fail?

I don't want my sons thinking that my pride in them depends on whether they win.

I want them to know I believe in their ability to grow, even when they haven't figured something out yet.

Now, that doesn't mean I need to praise every decision they make.

If my son had stayed on the ground that day and decided he couldn't finish, I wouldn't necessarily have been proud of that decision.

But I still would have believed in him.

I would have made sure he was okay.

And I would have reminded him that just because he fell didn't mean he had to give up.

Because there's a difference between being proud of a choice your son makes and believing in who he can become.

And sometimes, the most important thing we can recognize isn't the accomplishment. It's the determination that comes before it.