God knows we won’t recognize most of what he’s doing around us, and he still lavishes those blessings on us. He hides wonders around the world for us to eventually find. I imagine he waits in anticipation as we bumble around the Easter eggs of his character that he’s stashed in the nooks and crannies of our lives. Gracious, he “hides” his blessings right out in the open, where we’re blindfolded by our myopia.
Saturday, several of my church buddies and I ran the Upper Gauley through Hurricane Ian’s rain in a private raft. The water was 58ºF. The air was 49ºF. The mist rising off the water and around each fold of the gorge made it feel like we were paddling through a scene from Jurassic Park. None of us wore GoPros. But it wasn’t just scenic. We got to pound and paddle our way through some wild water.
Crystal and I got married when I was 22. For our twenty-second anniversary, Crystal and I returned to one of our favorite sports (and my favorite city in the world): Vancouver, BC. She’s half Canadian, and I’ve spent half my life with her. So, Canada seemed like a fitting place to celebrate.
I’ve spent a summer, paying my way into recorded conversations because my life isn’t interesting enough to enough people—and in particular the “right” people. I got my money’s worth from this publicity tour, because I learned that the life I have offline is a full one, an enough one.
I’m not done dreaming. In fact, my dreams prove far more ambitious now than any I had when she said, “I do,” on a Maryland beach. I’m not the man she married, but she has adapted to every version of me.
Nate and I spent Labor Day weekend, riding a Can-Am Maverick Trail over and between Utah’s beautiful mountains. At every turn, we saw rugged beauty—sometimes in robust forests and other times in barren dirt. We challenged ourselves along precarious ledges and over obstacles that required careful crawling. We came home having conquered anxious moments and having cheered each other on while we did. The title of this album came from all the times we paused to consider whether we should try a “high consequence” stretch of trail. Almost every time, Nate would pause, survey the situation, and say, “The worst thing that happens is we die.” Haha.
In just over 30 hours, I rode my motorcycle 530 miles. Those miles took me to Tennessee, West Virginia, and parts of Virginia I’ve never seen. We powered through a hail storm and rode ourselves dry over 100+ miles. I had a bear run out in front of me, and I almost became a hood ornament on a Toyota Tacoma in a blind curve. I successfully survived a steep rutted hill climb and a section of trail made out of 57 stone.
Today’s the day! Barnes & Noble has sold my book online since last November; but as of today, you can buy it off the shelf at their Lynchburg, VA, store. I signed all three copies currently in stock.
The other day, I blurted out to Crystal, “The clouds have been amazing this summer!”
Vulnerability scared me. It often still does. The precipice of self-revelation can and has felt like the moments in an airplane right before I jump out of it or walk out onto a biplane wing for some aerobatics. “Well. Here goes nothing.”
My adventurous friend, Dave Kountz, saw Top Gun Maverick and decided the best way to celebrate his birthday was flying into the danger zone. I’m so grateful he asked me to join him on a crazy caper that included some intense moments thousands of feet off the ground.
We joined with hundreds of other MINI drivers on a scenic drive through rural Virginia, including on roads none of us had driven and places we’d never seen. So much fun! It was a long day—12 straight hours together—but those hours were filled with adventure, wonder, good conversations, laughter, and cheering for each other.
Why wouldn’t Jesus want us to absorb all we can be, all of what life can be? He said he’s the way, the truth, and the life. I’ve never felt more alive than in moments after I held my fear, acknowledged it, and then leaned into it. Why wouldn’t Jesus challenge our atrophy, apathy, and comfort, if he knew there was a beautiful scary experience waiting on the other side of surrender?
My life changed forever 3 years ago today. I was standup paddle boarding on an incredible helicopter expedition in British Columbia with Aaron, Ryan, Tony, and Ralph. When we got back to civilization, I got a text from my wife explaining that law … Continued
My brother-in-law, Sam, and I drove and hiked around the archipelago nation of the Faroe Islands. From almost every person we told that we heard, “Where’s that?” Well, these 18 islands within the Kingdom of Denmark erupt from the North Atlantic Ocean southeast of Iceland and north of Scotland. And every bend in their roads and trails wows you with a ruggedness that distracts you from almost all thoughts but amazement.
Woody’s two-word invitation made me ponder a four-word promise Jesus made before he headed back to heaven. As he told his first-century followers to go and make disciples, he assured them, “I am with you.” That promise goes well with his command not to be afraid and his foretelling of the Holy Spirit’s omnipresence. But this morning, I heard something different in that claim: an invitation to access him.
Out in the dark on Sunday mornings, my heart’s been buoyed. The people showing up before the sun aren’t disgruntled. They haven’t given up. Even if they’ve chafed under a mask indoors, they’ve counted that small inconvenience as a tiny sacrifice for their mission. Having seen Jesus move in their midst, they remained driven to keep chasing kingdom advances. These folks weren’t trudging with slumped shoulders through a weekend morning on which they’d rather be sleeping in. No: they had smiles on their faces, pep in their step, and joy in their greetings. They radiated an energy that I absorbed and tried to take to my now-smaller asphalt team an hour later.
It took a gas station sign to remind me that the treasure I carry with me is too good to keep to myself. Even on Taco Tuesday, the transformative power of what Jesus gave me is too fantastic not to share.
Jeremy and I trained for months in a rock climbing gym for ice climbing in Ouray, CO. Because of my motorcycle accident, I even climbed for a while in a full-leg brace. While some of those skills translated to the ice, we learned we hadn’t trained our calf muscles. Turns out, you use those a lot when your points are in the ice. Haha.
After my last book took 1,254 days from start date to publication date, I wanted to expedite my next book. By a lot. To do that, I knew I’d need at least one writing trip. Even in my slow season, … Continued
In college, I was taught that writers are readers. I scoffed at this axiom, as I wasn’t a reader. But those words proved true this year—a year in which my book Scared to Life was edited and published. In 2021, I read and listened to more books than in any previous year of my life—despite rebuilding my business from its COVID revenue plunge, publishing a book, and trying to get a podcast off the ground. Here are those books in the order I would recommend them.
Last Tuesday night, our adoption attorney sat in our living room. She’s been working on our behalf for more than a year with an obtuse judge (who told us our adoption folder has more documents than any other he’s ever seen). Sarah said she didn’t know why the process of our slam dunk case has met so much resistance.
I replied, “I do. Jesus loves the irony of me fighting to be a dad after eighteen years of actively trying not to be one.”
I don’t want your partner, your family, or your sphere of influence to ever suffer what I and my loved ones have. But I’m willing to live under the weight of those headlines if it means that others will let those bold letters guide them to health, freedom, and a more attractive gospel.
I needed to write that paragraph because I need to read those truths. My life isn’t about me or even my legacy. As I lean into the race or “press toward the mark,” my goal will be hollow if I envision a personal laurel, a shiny crown, or some brag-worthy bling.
The next time I’m tempted to bask in the glow of something I’ve done, I hope I remember Tanner on that dock. And I hope I throw the equivalent of my medal into the lake.
A lot of people come to Nashville to chase a dream, a longed-for career. Seemingly, half of the Christian Industrial Complex® is there, too. Candidly, I would love to do a promo tour with all of the cultural influencers there; so, I’m not judging those who travel there for those reasons. But this trip to Nashville was to try new experiences with my brother, and we got everything out of our time together that we could.