Forney, Texas Sept 2025 I thought I had braced myself for the return. But the moment I turned down that old rock road, my heart dropped. I hadn’t been there in well over a decade. Maybe two. And there it was…the house. The house that raised me. Time had grown up all around it, but the bones were still the same. The same bones I ran from. The same bones that live inside me still. The rearview mirror of our past is always there. Sometimes it tries to drive us. And sometimes it’

I sat with someone yesterday whose whole goal for the next quarter wa s to do more than the one before. More revenue. More output. More reach. More. And I nodded, I listened but inside, something felt off. I started thinking about the compounding weight o f more . More quarter over quarter. More year over year. More, decade after decade. What does more look like in 20 years? What does more cost in 40? What does it take from us? From our families? Our health? Our joy? Ou

32.2095° N 35.2852° E These numbers on my wrist? They aren’t just coordinates. They mark the place where Jesus met the Samaritan woman at the well. She came to the well in the middle of the day… worn out, weighed down, hiding from the eyes and opinions of others. She carried shame like I’ve carried it. Like maybe you have too. But Jesus… He was already there. Waiting. For her. He didn’t postpone or evade her story. He met her right in the middle of it. He didn’t flinch. He as

When I returned to my childhood home after twenty years, I expected a flood of memories. What I found was complete devastation. The house on High Country Lane, the one that I depended on while growing-up, the one I ran away from was now broken down, beyond squalor and forgotten. But out in the weeds, we found him.. a small, mangy dog, terrified and alone. He lived under the house, hiding from people, hiding from life. His only protection was the darkness. When I first saw him

Oswald Chambers said, “Solitude with God repairs the damage done by the world.” In the past, I would read something like that and nod with complete agreement, but not really practice it. For years, I would move close to the idea of solitude like it was something I could get used to but not truly commit to. A morning devotional here, a few quiet moments in the car there. But to actually be alone. To be truly alone, for days at a time, that felt foreign. Honestly? It felt very