Peace is easy to talk about and hard to hold onto — especially in December. I don’t usually lose peace in dramatic ways; I lose it subtly, one small distraction or pressure at a time. Advent reminds me that peace hasn’t left me… I’ve drifted from it. This week, I’m reflecting on the four ways we unintentionally lose sight of peace — and how the arrival of Jesus invites us to return to it. If peace feels far away, this Advent might be God’s invitation to hope again.

Comparison opens the door. Imitation walks through it. And before you know it, you’re trying to lead like someone God never called you to be. This is the danger every leader faces — losing yourself while trying to imitate someone else’s calling. David refused Saul’s armor for a reason. God’s anointing isn’t a call to imitate leadership; it’s an invitation to authentic leadership.

Advent doesn’t just invite us to remember Christ’s coming—Advent interrupts us with hope. Mary and Joseph’s entire world shifted before the world even knew a Savior had arrived. And that same hope still interrupts our lives today. The question isn’t whether God is moving. The question is: Are you open to the interruption of hope He may bring this year?

Chris Berman used to say, “Nobody circles the wagons like the Buffalo Bills.” Leadership works the same way. Great leaders don’t withstand pressure because they’re strong—they withstand it because they’re surrounded by the right people: encouragers, wisdom-givers, and truth-tellers.

Isaiah’s calling didn’t begin with clarity of purpose — it began with a growing clarity of a Person. Before God sent Isaiah anywhere, He revealed Himself. This post explores the three movements of Isaiah 6 that still shape our calling today: recognizing God, receiving His grace, and realizing the place you already stand is the place God has sent you.

Obedience is more than doing what God says—it’s aligning your life with His voice. Scripture shows us that some things Jesus calls every disciple to obey, and some things the Holy Spirit calls you specifically to. The goal isn’t matching someone else’s assignment. It’s responding faithfully to your own. So the real question becomes: Will we obey?

Ministry requires vulnerability — and vulnerability attracts warfare.
Every time you preach honestly, share part of your story, or sit with someone seeking wisdom, you’re opening a sacred part of your heart. And the enemy often waits for that exposed moment after you pour out to whisper lies, stir doubt, and attack what God just used. 1 Peter 5 gives us a roadmap for how to guard our hearts in those moments.

Ministry was never meant to be done from a place of polish. It was meant to be done from a place of brokenness and dependence.

In a world that celebrates strength, God grows leaders through surrender. In a culture that rewards image, the gospel works through honesty. And the more I lead, the more convinced I become that ministry isn’t a museum for the already-put-together — it’s a research hospital where people are healed, trained, and sent.

You don’t have to be polished to make an impact. You just have to be dependent.

We love to believe God’s going to send someone else — the “better qualified,” the “more spiritual,” the “more confident.”
But what if that someone else is actually you?

When it comes to the One God’s placed in your life, you’re not the backup plan. You’re Plan A.
God’s plan has always been people — and He’s chosen to work through you, right where you are.

We’ve said it for years: You can Belong before You Believe. But if we’re really going to reach the One, this can’t just be a phrase we nod along to — it has to shape how we lead, listen, and show up for students. In a generation weighed down by anxiety, comparison, and performance, belonging isn’t a soft idea; it’s a spiritual strategy. Because when students truly belong, belief is never far behind.

It’s easy to coast when your eyes are fixed on what’s safe. But when you start looking for what Jesus looks for — when you decide to see people the way He sees them — it changes everything. Focus isn’t accidental; it’s intentional. And it’s the work that makes transformation possible.

I’ve spent the last year and a half fully engaged in pastoring here at home, but this season feels like a call to give again—to add something to the world through words. I’m convinced this is a season to contribute, not just consume—to offer a voice that helps others slow down, refocus, and run after the one God has placed in front of them.

People will let you down. People you respect. People you look up to. People you lean on. People who have been there for you at one point. People that have encouraged you. People who have invested in you. People will let you down. But that doesn’t mean that they are inherently evil. It means that people are inherently human.

I was recently made aware of a streamer who has made some new waves through the youth culture space. Let me tell you about a new kid on the social media block, The Sketch Real. You might be thinking that because he is a streamer that your kids don’t know who this guy is, but the reality is that his videos and clips of his videos are beginning to go viral and move from the Twitch and TikTok spaces over to YouTube and Instagram.

If we want to see generation gaps bridged we have to start moving through the awkward and the uncomfortable to the place of collective collaboration. The place where we share our stories and we welcome the work of finding understanding and growth.

60 years ago, Danny Cocanower and Bonnie Constable said “I do” and committed their lives together until death do they part. Like most couples who say “I do,” they had no clue what the next 60 years would look like, let alone the next 60 days. Happiest of Anniversaries on this very special one. You are a shining example of consistent and constant devotion to being there.

April 14th always brings with It a wave of texts, posts, and messages that always overwhelm me with gratitude for the many people that I have been so blessed to have in my life. To all those that sent those messages - thank you. You are a blessing to me and I’m so grateful for you.

365 days ago, I was sitting at my parents house after a day of visiting with friends and community members who had known my grandpa. I was thinking, praying, and processing what I would say to eulogize him; all that he had influenced in my life, the memories that our family had shared with him, and the life that he had lived in his 80 years.

Have you ever stopped to notice what you spend your time doing? I think we could learn far more about what we believe and the priorities we have put in place simply by examining the things that we give our minutes to each day and each week.

Man's best laid plans often pale in comparison to the promises of God’s providence in our lives. The pain of our paralysis can be the very thing that God will use to push us forward. Ultimately, it is God’s purposes that will come to fruition and will bring the best possible fruit in our lives.