I've been thinking about time. My time. My days. My plans. And honestly, whether I'm doing enough with any of them. Most mornings, I wake up thinking about what needs to get done. The calls I need to make. The projects that need attention. The responsibilities that seem to multiply faster than I can keep up with them. And if I'm honest, I often wake up with a subtle feeling that many men carry: I'm behind. Behind on my goals. Behind on my plans. Behind on where I thought I'd

Colorado River There’s a devotional in Soul Weathered called “Expectation.” And lately, I’ve been thinking about that word again. Not just spiritually. Practically. Daily. I was talking with my father yesterday, and later with my wife, about expectations. What do we actually expect from life ahead? From our future? From tomorrow? And honestly, what do we expect from today? I woke up this morning thinking about that. What is my expectation for this day? Do I expect joy? Do I e

One of the recurring themes throughout Soul Weathered is wilderness. The cover itself shows a man walking a trail into the fading light. And honestly, that image represents far more than hiking to me. It represents space. Silence. Invitation. The kind of places where a man can finally hear again. For the past 25 years, I’ve led men into wilderness settings through ministry. Mountains. Streams. Trails. Campfires. Remote places where the noise of life quiets down long enough fo

There’s a section of devotions in Soul Weathered centered around fatherhood. Not because I figured it out perfectly. But because raising my daughters taught me more about the heart of God than almost anything else in my life. When my wife and I first started raising children, we had a very clear idea of the kind of parents we were going to be. Or at least we thought we did. A lot of our thinking came from teachings on “tough love”—raising children with firmness, structure, co

What does it take to have the heart of a warrior? Most men might answer that with words like strength, courage, discipline, vigilance, sacrifice. And they would be right. But not completely. Because the longer I’ve walked with men, the more convinced I’ve become that the heart of a true warrior begins somewhere most men don’t want to go. Weakness. Not weakness as passivity. Not weakness as cowardice. Not weakness as giving up. But the kind of weakness that admits: I do not ha

One of the things I hear most from men today is this: “I feel behind.” Behind financially. Behind spiritually. Behind professionally. They look around at other men and quietly wonder: Am I where I’m supposed to be by now? And the older I get, the more I question the timelines we’ve accepted. Because our culture has a script for men. In your 20s, you’re supposed to figure life out. In your 30s, build your career and family. In your 40s and 50s, accumulate and secure things. In

As I’ve been rereading parts of Soul Weathered, I’ve found myself unexpectedly convicted by my own words. That may sound strange coming from the author of the book, but the truth is, those devotions came out of decades of journals, reflections, failures, prayers, and moments where God met me in real life. When I started putting the book together, I had hundreds of pages I could have included. Narrowing it down to 52 devotionals honestly came down to trust. Trusting the Holy S

There’s a lot written about habits. Morning routines. Disciplines. The things successful men do to start their day. I understand the value in that. But what has shaped my life the most… isn’t a routine. It’s a posture. I wish I could tell you I practice it perfectly every day. I don’t. But it’s something I return to again and again. It starts with a picture. I see myself walking into a vast hall. High ceilings. Columns that seem to disappear into the distance. A space that fe