The cost of obedience is not only what we leave behind. Sometimes it is following God when we cannot see what our obedience accomplished. In Soul Weathered, I write about the cost of obedience. I talk about being abandoned to God. About following Him when following costs us something. About times when I have questioned Him, wrestled with Him, and found myself at odds with Him because what was happening didn't look anything like what I thought would happen. I wish I could say

What happens after the excitement of God's call wears off—and you're still there? Recently, someone asked me about a question in Soul Weathered. It comes out of one of the devotions dealing with staying with God when He calls us into something. The question was: How do you stay present with God in the middle of it? He wanted to know what I meant by that. I've been thinking about the question again, because I know exactly why I wrote it. There have been things in my life that

Everything abandoned to God will be returned to us, either in this lifetime or in eternity. One of the devotions in Soul Weathered is called Abandoned to God. In it, I make a statement that someone recently asked me about. I wrote: "Everything abandoned to God will be returned to us, either in this lifetime or in eternity." Do I really believe that? Absolutely. Recently I had lunch with a friend I've known for several years. Twenty-six months ago, he made a decision that most

There is a place where the life of Christ begins to flow effortlessly through you. One of the recurring themes throughout Soul Weathered is becoming the man God created you to be. Not the man the world tells you to become. Not the man your fears have shaped. Not even the man you think you ought to be. The man God imagined when He created you. For years, I wondered what that really looked like. How do you become that man? How do you move beyond simply believing in Christ to ac

"Jesus died for you. God calls you. And eventually, there are steps of obedience only you can take." Jesus told a story about a shepherd who left ninety-nine sheep to go after one that was lost. I've heard that story most of my life. Usually, I heard it from the perspective of evangelism. The lost person. The person far from God. The one who needs rescuing. And that's true. But recently I've been wondering something else. What if the one is you? Not you as part of a crowd. No

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