I turned 50 in February. I’m not sure how it happened. I’m pretty sure yesterday I had all my hair and it was much darker, I could see at night while driving, and there were more days ahead of me than were behind me.

I was overwhelmed during a season of life and ministry that felt so heavy. I felt no traction. I wanted a clear, big picture to shoot for and a simple strategy for making daily progress.

I’ve railed against referring to them as volunteers for years because “volunteer” seems like the lowest possible standard you could set for your team.

“Dad, aren’t you going to use filtered water to soak the oats?” Aspen scolded.

Crack open Ezekiel 37 for a minute. It reads:

The hand of the LORD was upon me,

Ever notice how some brothers and sisters seem to over-emphasize God’s “love” and under-emphasize our need for repentance? It’s in our culture. Like high places. High places that need to be destroyed.

Sometimes lighting a fire feels like lighting you’re using soaking-wet wood. It’s impossible despite your best efforts. Other times, the gas-lit fire practically jumps on you.

I recently mentioned the name “Neo” to a room full of worship leaders, and they knew.

You know that verse about not saying we’re gonna do this and go there and make business happen but rather say, “If God wills, we’ll do this or that”?

Three short stories. (they include your goals for 2025)

I was going to say the last several months have been quite a battle, but honestly, the last five years in Costa Rica have been a battle. What’s been the effect on me?

Have you been hurried into thinking that doing work for God is like being with Him?

I was speaking with a church that has been without a staff worship leader for nearly a year.

Yesterday, I was battling low-grade anxiety for most of the day.

Right now, you are feeling what you thought earlier. You believe what you think. This year, you’ll create the reality you’ve imagined.

When I was a kid, I hated tomatoes.

One of my life scriptures is Psalm 73. The last verse is a favorite.

We have lovely conversations around our dining room table. And not a small handful of odd ones. This Monday’s breakfast was no exception.

My three teenage children went to a youth camp recently.

As you make your way down our lane, several wooden signs are hanging from the tall cypress trees, each with a phrase from Psalm 23.