Tag: Faith (Page 3 of 24)

The Quiet Field

Finding Stillness on Acres in Advent

There’s a kind of silence that you only get on thirteen acres in early December.

It isn’t peaceful in one of those “spa with music and scented candles” kind of way. Not that I’d find that peaceful anyway!

It’s peaceful in the “everything is frozen and refusing to move” kind of way.

The grass is brittle. The garden is dead. The mud is solid. The trees creak like old bones every time the wind pushes through. Even the chickens give me that look that says “really… you came out here for this?”

And honestly? I feel the same way.

December doesn’t ask permission before it steamrolls you. It shows up with a clipboard full of expectations:
Christmas programs.
Three worship services every week.
Sermons.
Meetings.
Family plans.
Shopping.
School programs.
Year-end everything.

The month demands so much noise from me… while the land around me goes completely quiet.

And that’s the first gut-punch lesson Advent always hands me: The world gets loud, but God often whispers.

You’d think the “holy season” would feel holy. But Advent rarely starts that way for me. It usually starts with me trying to figure out how to beat the sun to the chicken coop, how to not slip on the icy slope behind the barn, and how in the world I’m going to get everything done before the 24th.

But out there on that cold, stubborn ground I’m reminded that God does His best work in the quiet places.

“Be still, and know that I am God.”  Psalm 46:10 (ESV)

Be still?
In December?
Sure, God. Let me just pencil that in between “fix frozen coop door” and “write sermon number three for the week.”

But that’s exactly the point. Stillness isn’t what happens when everything calms down. Stillness is what happens when I stop pretending I can carry everything myself.

The fields don’t fight the season. The garden doesn’t resist the freeze. The trees don’t argue their way out of winter. They simply… stop. Rest. Wait.

Advent is the Church’s way of reminding us: You can’t force fruit in winter. But you can prepare your heart for the Light that’s about to break in.

So this week, here’s my Advent invitation not just to you, but to myself:

Step into the quiet field, even if it’s only for five minutes.

Bundled up. Breath in the cold air. Let the noise fall off you. Let your soul settle for a moment so you can hear the whisper again.

Because while the world is screaming for more, God is quietly preparing to give us what we could never give ourselves:

A Savior.
A Light in the long night.
Hope wrapped in flesh.

Out here on the acreage, Advent begins with a frozen field and a quiet whisper. And honestly? That’s enough.

The Barrel Matters

You can tell a lot about a bourbon long before you ever pop the cork. Not by its label. Not by the hype. Not even by its age.

If you really want to know what a bourbon is becoming, you’ve got to look at the barrel.

Ask any distiller and they’ll tell you the same truth every time. Up to 70% of a bourbon’s flavor comes from the barrel it rests in.

The wood. The char. The warehouse. The seasons. The environment shapes the spirit.

And sitting with a glass the other night, it hit me: It’s the same with you and me.

You Become Whatever You Soak In

Bourbon doesn’t get to choose its barrel, but you and I often do.

We decide what environments we rest our souls in. We choose what voices we let season our thinking. We choose the habits that fill our time. The people we run with. The rhythms we tolerate. And the noise we allow to flood our heads.

And then we’re shocked when the final product of our life tastes a little… off.

Look. If you spend your days soaking in anxiety, outrage, endless scrolling, and the opinions of people who don’t actually know you, then your spirit will reflect that. If you surround yourself with cynics, don’t be surprised when your joy feels watered down. If your faith is marinating in hurry, distraction, and an inch-deep spirituality, don’t wonder why you feel spiritually thin.

Your barrel shapes your spirit. Every single time.

Here’s the wild thing about bourbon barrels. They don’t just hold the bourbon. They actually transform it.

Over time the liquid pulls flavors out of the wood. The bourbon slowly takes on its color, its warmth, its depth. It becomes like whatever it rests in.

Your soul works the same way.

Spend enough time around people who love Jesus, who call out the best in you, who pray for you, who challenge you, who remind you who you are and you’ll notice your own character start to deepen.

Your thinking gets clearer. Your reactions get slower. Your compassion grows. Your faith gets steadier.

Spend enough time in Scripture, prayer, worship, and simple, quiet obedience and you’ll start tasting like the fruit of the Spirit.

You don’t become like Jesus by trying harder. You become like Jesus by staying close.

Just like bourbon in the right barrel, transformation happens through proximity, not pressure.

Check Your Barrels

Maybe the most spiritual thing some of us could do this week isn’t reading another book or listening to another podcast or heck even skimming the latest blog from our pastor. Maybe it’s doing a little inventory of the barrels we’re sitting in.

So sip on these things.

  • Who’s shaping you?
  • What are you soaking in?
  • What environment is slowly, silently forming your character?

If the answer is “I’m not really sure,” then you might already have your answer.

Friends, faith doesn’t grow in a vacuum. It grows in an environment.

And here’s the good news. You get to choose yours.

Choose the barrel that brings out the best in you.
Choose the people who speak life, not drama.
Choose the rhythms that draw you closer to Christ, not further into chaos.
Choose the habits that deepen your soul rather than drain it.

Because at the end of the day, everybody matures into something. The question is simply: What are you becoming like?

So here’s your bourbon-fueled reminder for the week: Bourbon becomes what it rests in, and so do you.

Choose your barrel wisely.

Saying Yes Changes Everything

Yesterday we kicked off Advent with a deep dive into Luke 1:26-38. You know the story. Mary, a teenage girl from a nowhere town called Nazareth, gets the shock of her life when an angel tells her she’s been chosen to carry the Savior of the world. Yeah, that Mary.

Here’s the kicker: Mary had zero qualifications. No royal bloodline. No political connections. No resume that screamed, “I’m ready to be a world-changer.” Just a quiet life, a lot of questions, and a giant, terrifying call.

But God didn’t pick someone likely. He picked someone available.

Why Mary’s story is a punch in the face to our excuses

How often do we sit on the sidelines because we think we’re not enough? Not skilled enough, not bold enough, not experienced enough? Mary is the ultimate “Hold my beer” moment in the Bible. She’s God’s way of saying, “Stop waiting for permission. Stop waiting for perfect. Just show up.”

When the angel shows up, Mary doesn’t get a detailed step-by-step plan. She doesn’t get all the answers or guarantees. She just says, “I am the Lord’s servant. May your word to me be fulfilled.”

Now that’s faith.

Here’s your Monday challenge

Look at your week ahead. What’s the call you’ve been pretending not to hear? What’s the opportunity that feels too big or too scary? Whatever it is, remember God’s calling doesn’t come to the “most qualified.” It comes to the available. The willing. The ready to say “yes” even when the path is uncertain.

So what’s stopping you? Fear? Doubt? That little voice telling you you’re not enough? It’s a lie. All of it! Mary was essentially just a kid. If God can work through her, He can absolutely work through you.

This week, don’t just hope for change. Step into it. Say yes to the impossible. Step out of your comfort zone. Be the unexpected hero God is calling you to be. The world doesn’t need perfect. It needs you showing up and doing what only you can do.

Get uncomfortable. Get brave. Get moving. Your ‘yes’ could be the spark that changes everything.


Ready to stop waiting and start living your calling? Share your “yes” this week in the comments. Let’s fuel each other’s courage to be the unlikely heroes God is raising up right now.

Grateful for the Little Stuff

Let’s be honest how often do we catch ourselves griping about the little things? The slow Wi-Fi, the slightly burnt toast, the coffee that’s “just not quite right”? Yeah, those things. We act like the world is ending because our favorite show buffers for two seconds or because the line at Starbucks is one person too long.

But here’s the kicker: those “small” annoyances? They’re actually the stuff of life we really value.

I mean think about it. The Wi-Fi only matters because you’re connected to people you love or work you care about. That “not quite right” coffee is still warm in your hands and sometimes, that’s a miracle. And the line at Starbucks? It means you’re breathing, moving, living in a world full of people who also need their caffeine fix to survive Monday.

We take these things for granted. We complain like life is about to unravel when what’s really happening is this: we have what we need. The roof over our heads, food on the table, a phone in our pocket, and yes even imperfect coffee.

So today, let’s be bold enough to say thank you for the small stuff. For the mess, the glitches, the delays, and the little inconveniences. Because those things remind us we’re alive, we’re human, and we’re blessed in ways we often don’t even notice.

And hey if your toast burns, maybe that’s just the universe’s way of telling you to slow down and enjoy a second cup of coffee. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s time to embrace the chaos with a grateful heart and a little laugh.

Gratitude isn’t about waiting for the big wins. It’s about finding joy in the crumbs.

Thankful for People Who Drive Me Crazy

Gratitude comes easy when life feels calm. When the people around us make us laugh, listen when we speak, or quietly show up when we need them – it’s not hard to be thankful.

But gratitude gets complicated when people hurt us. When they misunderstand us. When they drain us.

There are people in all our lives who test our patience. Who push our buttons. And who make relationships feel more like work than blessing. And yet, if I’m honest, those people have been some of my greatest teachers.

Because the truth is, God uses difficult people to expose the rough edges in me. They shine a light on things like pride, impatience, parts of my heart that still need His grace. They show me how much I still need forgiveness. They remind me that love isn’t just a feeling. Love is a choice.

Paul wrote, “Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” (1 Thessalonians 5:18, ESV) That “all circumstances” includes the messy relationships. The uncomfortable conversations. The disappointments that sting deeper than we’d like to admit.

Being thankful for difficult people doesn’t mean pretending everything is fine.
It means learning to see God’s hand at work even in the friction. It’s believing He’s forming something in me through it all.

Sometimes the people who frustrate us most are the very ones God uses to grow compassion, humility, and endurance. They remind us that grace isn’t just a word we preach. It’s a daily practice we live.

So today, I’m trying to thank God not just for the people who make life easy, but also for the ones who make me pray a little more, think a little deeper, and love a little harder.

Because they’re part of how He makes me more like Jesus.

Gratitude in Difficult Relationships

If we’re honest, it’s easy to be thankful for the people who make life fun. The friend who shows up with coffee. The spouse who still laughs at your dad jokes. The coworker who actually does their job.

But what about the ones who make your eye twitch? Who get on that last nerve?

You know the person. They’re the one who always has to be right. It’s the relative who still thinks it’s funny to bring up politics at Thanksgiving. The neighbor who somehow blows their leaves directly into your yard.

Yeah… those people.

Here’s the thing: gratitude isn’t just about warm fuzzies. It’s about seeing God’s grace in the people who test your patience the most. Because every person in your life, even the difficult ones, are part of how God shapes you.

When Paul wrote “give thanks in all circumstances” (1 Thessalonians 5:18), he didn’t add a footnote that said, “except for the annoying ones.”

Being thankful in relationships doesn’t mean pretending everything’s perfect. It means choosing to see people the way God does. It’s seeing them as works in progress, just like you.

So maybe the person who drives you nuts isn’t your problem. Maybe they’re your reminder.

Your reminder to practice patience.
Your reminder that grace isn’t just for church. It’s for Tuesday morning emails, family dinners, and awkward conversations.
Your reminder that gratitude grows best in the dirt of real, messy relationships.

So this week, try thanking God not just for the easy people, but for the ones who stretch your grace muscles too.

Because sometimes the people who drive you crazy are the very people God’s using to make you more like Him.


Finding Gratitude in Life’s Messy Moments

If I’m being honest not every day feels like something to be thankful for. Some days feel like a sitcom with no laugh track. You spill coffee on your shirt before the meeting. Your kiddo’s missing shoe somehow ends up in the front yard. And the leaf blower that worked fine yesterday decides today’s the day to bite the big one.

Yeah, one of those kind of days.

But here’s the thing: Gratitude isn’t just for the good days. It’s for the messy ones too. Because that’s where God does some of His best work.

Just look at the Christmas story. It wasn’t neat and polished. Jesus entered the world in a feeding trough surrounded by animals. Yeah mooove over for the messiah…

The resurrection? It came through betrayal, blood, and an empty tomb. God’s never been scared of a little mess. So he’s surely not scared of yours either!

The problem isn’t the chaos around us. It’s that we expect faith to clean it all up. Look real gratitude starts when we learn to thank God in the mess, not after it’s over. Somehow we’ve come the conclusion that following Jesus means that life will be easier or lighter in some way. But I just don’t see that.

My life isn’t smooth sailing. Not by a stretch! I still deal with family drama. I have conflict with people who I call friends. I have to deal with interpersonal communication issues on ministry teams in the church for crying out loud! Following Jesus doesn’t exclude you from the problems of life! It just changes how you see the struggles.

When the dishes pile up and life feels more exhausting than inspiring, maybe that’s the exact space where God’s trying to talk to you. Maybe that’s where He’s saying, “I’m here. I’m working. Even in this.”

My grandma gave me a paper when I was in high school that said “Something For God to Do Today.” It had a poem of sorts on it that I can’t remember completely but the gist is simple. There are things that are in your control. And there are things out of your control. When we approach life following Jesus, we’ll be able to confidently place things in the something for Jesus to do today box knowing that He has it under control.

So, maybe this weekend you don’t need to fix the mess. Maybe you just need to pause long enough to see God standing right in the middle of it with you.

Because the mess doesn’t mean He’s missing. It means He’s moving with you through it.

So for that… yeah, I’m thankful.

Rest as Resistance

Confession: I’m competitive. I know! Shocker!

I’m competitive with myself, with the weights, with life, with pretty much everything around me. So sometimes I skip rest days. Because who wants to take a break when there’s more to lift, more to do, more to “fix”?

But here’s the thing I’m learning in my years of experience (aka being old as my daughter would put it): skipping rest is not strength. It’s weakness dressed up in busyness.

Muscles grow when you recover, not when you grind nonstop. And muscles are a lot like other parts of our lives, including faith! Spiritual growth, emotional health, even leadership stamina all thrive in the spaces where we pause.

Rest isn’t optional. It’s resistance. It’s saying no to the things that aren’t going to move the needle.

It’s saying no to the lie that productivity equals value.

It’s telling the world (and yourself) that you trust God to keep working when you stop.

It’s bending the knee to a rhythm bigger than your to-do list.

Some of the best work I’ve ever done in the gym, in ministry, in life all started with a deliberate pause. A day off. A walk in the field. A quiet coffee without guilt. A slow evening with a one finger pour. The pause brings purpose to the process.

So take a breath. Step back. Turn off the blower, put the weights down, and let God do what only He can do. You’ll come back stronger. You’ll last longer. And you’ll probably be a lot less likely to look like a man riding a chicken.

Because rest is not laziness. Rest is resistance against burnout. And in a world that won’t stop demanding, that’s a radical act of faith.

Finding Clarity Through Coaching

Person looking through glasses with blurry image to show lack of focus.

How pausing, reflecting, and thoughtful coaching can help you see what really matters.


Life has a way of clouding our vision. The busyness, the noise, and the constant pull of other people’s expectations can blur what once felt clear.

I know this personally. A few months ago, I found myself constantly reacting – putting out fires at church, over-committing at home, and feeling frustrated that I couldn’t see the next right step.

That’s when a coaching conversation helped me pause. Just 30 minutes of focused reflection helped me name what was really driving me, and for the first time in months, I felt a little relief.

Clarity doesn’t arrive as a sudden revelation. It comes layer by layer, in quiet moments of reflection. Coaching isn’t about giving you the answers. It’s about asking the right questions to help you see what’s already there.

Here’s a simple framework I’ve found useful for finding clarity:

  1. Pause and notice: Take 10–15 minutes to step away from your daily tasks. Even a short walk or journal session works.
  2. Ask yourself honest questions: What matters most right now? What’s getting in my way? What can I let go of?
  3. Prioritize one next step: Don’t try to solve everything at once. Pick one intentional action that aligns with what’s most important.
  4. Reflect and adjust: At the end of the day or week, check in. Did your step bring clarity or progress? What needs tweaking?
  5. Seek an outside perspective: A coach, mentor, or trusted friend can help you see blind spots and encourage you when you feel stuck.

I’ve seen these steps work in my life and in the lives of people I’ve coached. Sometimes clarity comes in a quiet “aha” moment. Sometimes it’s a gradual series of small realizations. Either way, the key is intentionality.

Take a moment today to reflect: Where do you feel foggy? What’s one step you can take this week to bring a little more clarity?

Clarity isn’t about doing more — it’s about seeing more clearly. And once you see clearly, even a small step in the right direction changes everything.

Call-to-Action (CTA)

Take 10 minutes this week to pause and reflect on what matters most. What one step can you take today to bring clarity into your life? Share your thoughts in the comments or with someone you trust.

The Discipline of Deadlifts and Devotion

Confession time: I hate leg day. Yep. Hate it with a passion!

Give me chest, shoulders, or biceps, and I’m good to go. But leg day? No thanks. That’s the day I suddenly feel the urge to take a rest day.

It’s not that I can’t do squats or deadlifts. Actually the moves aren’t hard at all and I can handle a decent amount of weight. I just don’t want to. They’re uncomfortable. They burn. They make it hard to sit or stand the next day. Heck they make me question all my life choices.

But you know what happens when you skip leg day too often? You start to look like a man riding a chicken. You’re all big up top, tiny at the bottom, unstable when life gets heavy.

And honestly, that’s what a lot of Christians look like spiritually. Strong in the more visible areas like church attendance, Christian talk, surface-level kindness that better not interrupt my day. But all too often weak in the parts that actually carry the weight.

Because real faith, like real strength, is built from the ground up.

The Apostle Paul wrote, “Train yourself for godliness; for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way.” (1 Timothy 4:7–8, ESV) He wasn’t talking about how we handle ourselves at the gym. He was talking about discipline. The kind of commitment that builds unseen strength.

It’s the same in devotion. Everybody loves the mountaintop moments! You know the powerful worship set, the answered prayer, the goosebumps of God’s presence. But not many people love the grind. The leg day of the spiritual walk. Things like showing up to Scripture when it feels dry, praying when nothing visible is happening, serving when nobody seems to notice.

That’s spiritual leg day. It’s not fun. It’s not flashy. But it’s what gives your faith stability when life drops something heavy on your shoulders.

The older I get, the more I realize: Faith that skips leg day looks good in the mirror but collapses under pressure.

So yeah, I still hate deadlifts. But I do them. Not because I like them, but because I need what they build. The endurance, humility, and strength where it counts.

The same goes for devotion. God’s not impressed by how spiritual you look up top. He’s shaping the foundation underneath.

So show up. Do the not so – glamorous work. Train your soul as much as your body.
Because when life gets heavy (and it will), you don’t want to be the spiritual guy or gal riding a chicken!

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