We all procrastinate.

The dictionary says it’s “the act of delaying something that must be done.”

We call it scrolling Instagram instead of answering emails, reorganizing the garage instead of paying bills, or “insert random activity.”

Most advice sounds the same:

• Make a list.

• Set a timer.

• Remove distractions.

• Reward yourself.

• Be more disciplined.

Those things can help…but they usually treat the symptom, not the cause.

What if procrastination isn’t a character flaw? What if it’s trying to tell you something?

1. You’re not avoiding the task. You’re avoiding the fear.

Fear of failing.
Fear of looking foolish.
Fear of rejection.
Fear that if you try your best and it still isn’t enough, it’ll say something about you.

“If I never start, I can never fail.”

True, but you’ll never succeed either.

2. Not everything has to happen right now.

We create deadlines that don’t actually exist. Then we beat ourselves up for missing them.

Sometimes the timing really isn’t right. Life has rhythms. Trees don’t bloom in January, and people don’t grow on demand either.

That’s not an excuse to avoid responsibility. It’s a reminder that wisdom is different from hurry.

3. Stop waiting to “feel like it.”

This might be the biggest myth of all.

You don’t feel like getting out of bed every morning.
You don’t feel like taking out the trash.
You don’t feel like cooking dinner.

Yet somehow…you do them.

Action doesn’t follow motivation nearly as often as motivation follows action.

4. The real reason we procrastinate

Here’s the part that changed how I think about procrastination:

We aren’t procrastinating the task. We’re procrastinating the feeling.

The laundry isn’t the problem. Boredom is.

The difficult conversation isn’t the problem. Rejection is.

The application isn’t the problem. Failure is.

The presentation isn’t the problem. Feeling exposed is.

Once you realize that, everything changes.

Feelings aren’t permanent. They rise, they fall, and they pass. The sooner we stop running from them, the sooner we discover they never had as much power as we gave them.

So the next time you catch yourself procrastinating, don’t ask, “Why can’t I get started?”

Ask instead:

“What feeling am I trying to avoid?”

You might discover the obstacle was never the task at all.

The Pencil Maker took the pencil aside, just before putting him into the box.

“There are five things you need to know,” he told the pencil, “before I send you out into the world. Always remember them and never forget them, and you will become the best pencil you can be.”

# 1   “You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow yourself to be held in Someone’s hand.”  

# 2   “You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, but you will need it to become a better pencil.”

# 3   “You will be able to correct any mistakes you might make.”

# 4  “The most important part of you will always be what’s inside.”

# 5  “On every surface you are used on, you must leave your mark. No matter what the condition, you must continue to write.”

The pencil understood and promised to remember, and went into the box with purpose in its heart.

Now, substitute the place of the pencil with YOU.  Always remember these five things and never forget them, and you will become the best person you can be.

# 1   “You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow yourself to be held in God’s hand and allow other human beings to access you for the many gifts you possess. Everything you do will always leave a mark.”

# 2   “You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time as you go through various problems in life. You will need this to become a stronger person, one that is better and more useful.”

# 3   “You can always correct any mistakes you might make.”

# 4   “What is important is what’s inside of you.”

# 5   “On every surface you walk through, you must leave your mark. No matter what the situation, continue to do your duties." 

Allow this parable of the pencil to encourage you. Never allow yourself to become discouraged and/or to think that your life is insignificant and cannot be changed. Know that you are a special person and the only one who can fulfill the purpose for which you were born. 

Remember, the most important part of who you are is what’s inside of you.

Here’s the thing about the pencil, 

No one person knows how to make a pencil.

Think about that.

The wood comes from a tree probably in Washington, cut down by a saw blade made with metal and ore from Pennsylvania.
This black center, we call “lead” which is really graphite comes from Central America.
The rubber for the eraser is sourced from Malaysia, which isn’t even native. Rubber trees were brought from South America by some businessmen with the help of the British government. 
The brass ferrule from another factory, that I’m not even sure of. 
The paint from another supplier.
The machines that build the pencil were built by other people using other machines.

Thousands of people, loggers, miners, chemists, engineers, truck drivers, sailors, factory workers, mechanics, and retailers, most of whom will never meet one another, all contribute to making one ordinary pencil.

The pencil exists because of dependence.

Now, that's an interesting lesson in economics.

But I think it's also a profound lesson about life.

Every breath is a gift.

Every sunrise is grace.

Every victory has fingerprints that belong to someone else.

When we finally admit we need God...

We're actually becoming stronger

This year we celebrate 250 years of independence.

And we should.

It's one of the greatest blessings God has given this nation.

But today I want us to remember something even greater.

America became free because people depended on one another.

The church survives because believers depend on one another.

And every follower of Christ finds true freedom only through complete dependence on Jesus Christ.

Ironically, the freest people in the world are those who have surrendered control to God.

Paul writes in Philippians:

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

Notice what Paul says.

He doesn't promise an explanation.

He promises peace.

Sometimes God calms the storm.

Sometimes He calms His people while the storm keeps raging.

So let me ask you:

Where have you been trying to carry life by yourself?

Your marriage?

Your children?

Your finances?

Your future?

Your health?

Your faith?

God never intended you to carry those burdens alone.

He invites you to trust Him.

He surrounds you with His people.

And He reminds you that dependence isn't defeat, it is discipleship.

Because the road to true freedom has always passed through surrender.

May we be people who celebrate the freedoms we've been given, but never forget that our greatest freedom comes from depending completely on God and faithfully walking alongside one another.

Amen.

How is it being home?

Usually the first question I get asked. My response is usually AWESOME, there is no place like home.

I truly love serving Soldiers everyday and there is no better feeling than watching the growth that happens in your brothers and sisters while protecting freedom in harms way.

What are you doing now?

Often the second question. Currently, I’m helping with our elementary. It has been awe inspiring to see these staff members poor so much of their lives into the next generation.

I miss my high school kids and co-workers. I’m looking forward to catching some gradation parties and celebrating the many achievements of students I’ve had the privilege to mentor over the last four years.

What’s next?

We’ve absolutely LOVED our time in Oelwein. The people have welcomed us as one of our own and our family has grown so much here. From school to church to the community, our ties here are strong.

We do feel, however, doors closing our time here. Bethany has accepted a position as the director of the Richland Area Child Care Center. She is excited for this new challenge and looking forward to stretching into this new world.

Our new home will be just north of Ollie. Couldn’t ask for better neighbors and Isaiah is stoked to stock the pond that is on the property! Selah is excited to be closer to the farm and to hang out with grandma and grandpa.

Me?

For the first time in 20 some years, I don’t have a job lined up or a plan. I’m a free agent. 😊

It probably should be nerve wracking I have peace that God is in control. In the interim, I joined my good friend, Jesse Howard, in a consulting business called NextGen.

During deployment, I spent what little free time I had authoring a book on leadership. It is in the beginning stages of publishing and I can’t wait to share it with y’all!

God is good. All the time. ❤️

SPC Makayla Hanson already carried a heavy responsibility as a combat medic, always ready to respond when someone was hurt or in need. So it surprised me when she volunteered to lead one of our 8 different Bible Studies across 3 different sites.

As the supervising Chaplain of these groups, I get the rare opportunity to sit in all of them. Watching these leaders and participants grow has been one of the great joys of my service.

One of the unique things about SPC Hanson was her system for checking in with her group.

At the end of each Bible study, she would ask everyone in the room for a quick check-in: thumbs up or thumbs down.

No explanations required.

No pressure to talk if someone wasn’t ready.

Just a simple signal.

Thumbs up meant I’m doing okay. 👍

Thumbs down meant I’m struggling today. 👎

If someone gave a thumbs down, nobody judged them. Nobody interrogated them in front of the group. Instead, it became an invitation. After the study, Hanson or someone else in the group would quietly check in, listen, and walk alongside that person.

Over time, something powerful happened.

Soldiers who normally kept things bottled up began to feel safe. The group learned to watch out for each other. Conversations got deeper. Prayers became more personal. What started as a simple check-in became a culture of genuine care.

In a place where people often feel like they have to be tough all the time, SPC Hanson reminded everyone that strength also means honesty. A medic who treated physical injuries was also helping heal unseen ones.

Sometimes the most powerful help begins with a simple question and the courage to show how you’re really doing.

John 15:7-11

Native hunters in the jungles of Africa have a clever way of trapping monkeys. They slice a coconut in two, hollow it out, and in one half of the shell cut a hole just big enough for a monkey’s hand to pass through. Then they place an orange in the other coconut half before fastening together the two halves of the coconut shell. Finally, they secure the coconut to a tree with a rope, retreat into the jungle, and wait. Sooner or later, an unsuspecting monkey swings by, smells the delicious orange, and discovers its location inside the coconut.

The monkey then slips his hand through the small hole, grasps the orange, and tries to pull it through the hole. Of course, the orange won’t come out; it’s too big for the hole. To no avail the persistent monkey continues to pull and pull, never realizing the danger he is in. While the monkey struggles with the orange, the hunters simply stroll in and capture the monkey by throwing a net over him.

As long as the monkey keeps his fist wrapped around the orange, the monkey is trapped. It’s too bad-the poor monkey could save its own life if it would let go of the orange. It rarely occurs to a monkey, however, that it can’t have both the orange and its freedom.

That delicious orange becomes a deadly trap. The world sets traps for you that are not unlike the monkey trap.

You hear constantly that if you just have enough money, enough stuff, enough power, enough prestige-then you’ll be happy. Under that illusion people spend their whole lives thinking you must have it all. The call of Christianity is unlike that of the world. The world focus’ on what you and get out of life. A Christian should focus on what they can give.

I prayed about what I wanted if this was my last Chapel message to you all what it would be.

I would say, “Live a life that counts.”

How do we do that? 

Read Scriptures: John 15:7-11

I. The life that counts is a Christ Centered life.

Vs. 7 "If ye abide in me…"

The life that counts is not a self-centered life, it is not about me. One of the biggest problems in churches today is self-center ness, rather than Christ center ness.

The Christ centered life is about me getting me out of the way, and letting a living Jesus live though me.

II. The life that Counts is a Bible anchored life.

Vs. "…My word abides in you."

So often as a Christian I live an experience anchored life, rather than a Bible anchored life. In order for me to live a Bible anchored life, I must do three things.

1. Learn it. The Word cannot anchor my life, if I don’t learn it, if I don't spend time in the word.

2. Live it. If I do spend time in the word, and I don't put it to practice in my life, then I am accomplishing nothing.

3. Love it. If I am not in love with the Word of God, then I will not stick to it, I will not stay in it long enough to learn it, and live it.

III. The life that Counts is a Prayer supported life.

Vs. 7 "Ye shall ask what ye will and it shall be done."

The bible says "you have not because you ask not." Listen prayer is more than just giving my laundry list of wants to God and then expecting to jump when I call, it just doesn’t work that way.

A true and authentic prayer life is key to living a truly victorious Christian life. If we have never cultivated a vital prayer life with God, then it will be just what we put into it, dead.

There is no way that we can live a life that counts for Jesus on this earth, without a true prayer supported life.

IV. The life that counts is a Fruit Bearing life.

Vs 8 "Herein is my father glorified, that ye bear much fruit so shall ye be my disciples."

If we have any hope of honoring God in this life, and with our lives, then we must live a fruit bearing life, what is a fruit bearing life. When you walk up to an apple tree, do expect to find oranges, no. When you walk up to an orange tree, do you expect to pick apples, no.

With our lives, when someone walks up to us, should they expect to hear things of the world, on our speech or in our actions, or should they hear Godly things, in our speech and in our actions.

A Godly fruit bearing life, will be characterized by exalting Christ with our words and our actions.

V. The life that counts is a Love motivated life.

Vs. 9 "…Continue in my love."

As a follower of Christ everything that I do and say, should be motivated by love. We should hate the sin, but love the sinner. The Bible teaches us that we are to "love the Lord with all of our hearts, minds, and strength".

Live a life that counts.

I’ll probably miss this the most. A narrow room with fluorescent lights humming overhead. Soldiers stand shoulder to shoulder. Different accents. Different skin tones. Different stories. Some with hands folded. Some with eyes closed. Some singing off-key. (Mostly me.)

And yet, one voice.

There is something sacred about that.

We live in a world that quietly teaches us to cluster with people who look like us, vote like us, talk like us, worship like us, and think like us. Comfort is easy. Familiarity feels safe.

Heaven won’t look like a mirror.

Scripture paints a picture of every tribe, every tongue, every nation gathered together. Not erased. Not blended into uniformity.

When we choose to stand beside someone whose background is different from ours, something powerful happens.

The man who grew up in a city hears the Word differently than the one raised in the country. The soldier from one state prays differently than the one from another. The believer from another nation may sing with a passion shaped by hardship we’ve never known.

And when we stand next to them, we borrow their perspective. We expand our understanding. We grow.

Spending time with people different from us forces us to listen. Listening creates understanding. Understanding softens hearts. And softened hearts look more like Christ.

When we share meals, stories, laughter, and struggles with those outside our normal circles, we begin to realize something profound:

We are far more alike in our need for grace than we are different in our circumstances.

So step into rooms that stretch you.

Sit at tables that challenge you.

Pray with people who see the world differently than you do.

Iron sharpens iron, but only when it touches.

There is a phrase that gets thrown around a lot in the Army: “Get comfortable being uncomfortable.” It sounds motivational on a coffee mug. It feels much different when you are cold, exhausted, under-resourced, and responsible for the lives of others.

I was reminded of this as I sat across from CPT Jeremy Dolder, commander of one of our infantry companies in the early morning hours after a short night over a cold cup of instant coffee. As I looked around at his men scattered across hasty sleeping positions, I could see that turn of phrase lived out beyond a slogan. 

It started like most operations do, confident briefs, rehearsals complete, radios checked. CPT Dolder had walked his company through contingencies, decision points, casualty plans. He had emphasized discipline and initiative. Still, as every infantry leader knows, no plan survives first contact.

Within hours, the operation shifted.

The weather turned brutal. Communications degraded. His company became isolated on difficult terrain. Logistics stalled. What was supposed to be a controlled movement became a chaotic fight to maintain cohesion and momentum.

In the middle of it all stood a commander who felt the full weight of responsibility.

There are moments in leadership when you realize no one is coming to fix this for you.

Months earlier at Joint Readiness Training Center (JRTC), CPT Dolder had stood in the Louisiana heat, soaked in sweat and frustration. His company had been chewed up by a ruthless opposing force. Communications had failed there too. Logistics had broken down. Leaders had been overwhelmed.

He remembered thinking, “This is so over the top. When would it ever be this bad?”

At JRTC, they had practiced worst-case scenarios:

It felt excessive. Punishing. Almost unrealistic.

Until now.

The temptation was to clamp down, over-control, micromanage every movement.

Instead, he did something counterintuitive.

He trusted his training.

He decentralized execution. Platoon leaders were given intent, not step-by-step instructions. Squad leaders maneuvered with disciplined initiative. The company reestablished communications using alternate methods rehearsed months before in the swamps of Louisiana.

He slowed himself down long enough to think.

The very scenarios he once questioned became the framework that stabilized the chaos.

Discomfort is not accidental in training. It is intentional.

JRTC is designed to expose weaknesses before the enemy does. It creates friction so leaders learn to think clearly when emotions run hot. It forces units into near-impossible situations so that real-world “impossible” feels survivable.

CPT Dolder realized something powerful: comfort creates fragility. Discomfort builds capacity.

When leaders avoid discomfort, they shrink. When they embrace it, they expand.

What his Soldiers saw that day was not a commander with all the answers. They saw a commander who refused to panic. Who relied on preparation. Who empowered them to act.

Getting comfortable being uncomfortable doesn’t mean you enjoy hardship. It means you stop being surprised by it.

Most importantly, it means you understand that growth rarely happens in ease.

Every profession has its version of JRTC. A demanding season. A difficult mentor. A project that stretches capacity. A hardship that feels unnecessary.

The question is not whether discomfort will come.

The question is whether we are preparing for it.

If you want to lead well, endure well, and win when it counts, you cannot wait until a crisis hits to develop resilience.

Lean into the hard training.

Seek feedback that stings.

Practice when no one is watching.

Because one day, like CPT Jeremy Dolder, you may find yourself in a moment where everything feels like it’s unraveling and you will quietly thank the days you learned to get comfortable being uncomfortable.

“It goes on.”

I was super blessed to have incredible teachers and staff throughout my school years. I didn’t realize how unique this was until I met others who weren’t as profoundly impacted by their community as I was.

I am certain it had more influence on my own journey to become an educator as well than I’ll ever know. I am eternally grateful to these individuals who put up with low pay, long hours and a myriad of responsibilities.

One of those teachers was my English 4 teacher, Art Sathoff. He was as sharp as they came and twice as rigorous, two things that brought out the academic in me. One of the first challenges I remember Mr. Sathoff giving us was to memorize a poem.

I chose, “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost. It is a poem about choice, uncertainty, and the courage to keep moving forward when the path isn’t clear.

In the poem, the traveler stands at a fork in the woods, wishing he could walk both roads at once. But life doesn’t work that way. A choice must be made. Frost doesn’t promise that the chosen road will be easier, safer, or even obviously better. What he does show is movement. The traveler chooses and then walks on.

I thought about this poem as I traveled in the back of military vehicle for 17 hours on a recent mission. I remembered reading somewhere about Robert Frost that three words changed his life: “It goes on.”

He wrote that phrase after losing his wife to cancer. As I bumped along in my full kit, I decided that is where “It goes on” meets the poem. After a decision, after the doubts, after the wondering what if, life keeps going.

The road doesn’t end at the choice; it begins there.

This is encouraging news for anyone standing at their own crossroads. You don’t need perfect certainty to move forward. You don’t need to see the whole map. You just need the willingness to take the next step. The meaning of the road often becomes clear only after you’ve walked it for a while.

You choose.

You walk.

And whatever comes next, it goes on.

Where is God?

That question shows up in hospital rooms, tower guard, kitchen tables at midnight, and let’s be honest, even in church parking lots right after service.

We ask it when life falls apart.

We ask it when prayers feel unanswered.

We ask it when God doesn’t show up the way we scheduled Him to.

Elijah asks it too, just not with words.

Text: 1 Kings 19:11–12

Context matters: Elijah has just come off the biggest spiritual victory of his life. Fire from heaven. Prophets defeated. Revival moment. If Elijah had a social media account, this would’ve been a viral video. 

And then… one threat from Jezebel and he collapses emotionally, spiritually, physically. 

He runs. He hides. He’s exhausted. He’s depressed. He’s done.

And God meets him, not in the fireworks, but in a whisper.

“And after the fire came a gentle whisper.” (1 Kings 19:12)

So today we ask the same question Elijah was asking with his life: Where is God when I don’t feel Him?

Henry Blackaby, in Experiencing God, gives us four ways God makes Himself known: Through Scripture, Prayer, People, and Circumstances.

And often, He’s not shouting.

He’s whispering.

The question isn’t, “Is God speaking?” The question is, “Am I listening?”

So today, if you’re tired like Elijah… If you’re overwhelmed… If you’re quietly asking, “Where is God?”

Lean in.

The whisper may already be closer than you think.

David and Goliath. One of the greatest stories ever told. It is used from Sunday School sermons to Olympic medal competitions to describe beating the odds.

I’ve always found something odd in the story of David and Goliath because, before David went out to face the giant, he goes down to the river and he picks something up. Do you remember what David picked up from the river?

Five Smooth Stones.

Now, why would David pick up 5 stones? I mean did he believe he’d needed all of 5 stones to kill Goliath? Did he lack faith that God might be able to help him defeat the Philistine with one stone, so he wanted a little extra insurance?

Well maybe… but I don’t think so. You see, I think David was planning ahead. Goliath had 4 brothers, and David needed only one stone for Goliath, he had 4 more stones just in case the other brothers showed up.

So I don’t think David picked up the 5 stones because he lacked faith. I believe he picked them up so he’d be prepared to not just face Goliath… BUT also his brothers.

Now, there is a second part of the story about David facing Goliath that we often overlook. “When the Philistine (Goliath) arose and came and drew near to meet David, David RAN quickly toward the battle line to meet the Philistine.” I Samuel 17:48 

DAVID RAN TO MEET GOLIATH? Yep!!!! That must have taken a lot of confidence. And yes. David was confident. But David didn’t just have CON-fidence, David had something called GOD-fidence.

Okay… I made that word up, but it fits!

GOD-fidence is different from CON-fidence. CON-fidence relies on ME. I do what I do because I am confident that I’m ABLE to do it. But GODFidence relies on God.I do what I do because I believe that WHAT I HAVE is from God. My abilities are from God; my gifts are from God; and my tasks are from God. 

If I am a GOD-fident person, then I believe God is in my life. I believe it is all about HIM! Not me. If God called me to it, then God will prepare me for it.

GOD-fidence seeks to give God all the glory. And when I’m a GOD-fident person, then I’m NOT afraid of what other people think and I’m NOT proud of my own accomplishments. It’s all about God and His glory.

SO, ARE YOU A CON-FIDENT PERSON… OR GOD-FIDENT PERSON??? Is it all about you… or is it all about God? 

“I can’t pull tower duty, but I can pull chicken.”

I made this comment this morning while serving several hundred soldiers in our dining facility and someone asked me why the Chaplain was serving food.

In our current mission tempo, everything here is limited. Resources and man power are scarce. As an officer, it would be easy to lean on the “Joes” to pick up the slack. That isn’t the Iowa way and it for sure isn’t the Red Bull way so everyone takes a turn at what they can.

More importantly, isn’t that what Jesus would do?

How did Jesus actually spend His time? The Gospels don’t give us a clock. They give us images and what we see almost half of the time is Jesus at a table, in a home, or around food and hospitality.

I could easily sit in the Chapel all day long and wait for soldiers to come to me but I don’t think that is what Jesus does. I think if Jesus were on deployment he would be at the dining facility.

If you look at the place Jesus teaches, he teaches at tables. Confronts at tables. Forgives at tables. Welcomes sinners at tables. Loves His enemies at tables. Breaks bread with betrayers at tables. Reveals Himself after the resurrection at a table.

When I consider that Jesus was a carpenter, I am blown away by the thought that He built the ultimate table between Heaven and man.

Aren’t we called to model the same?

There is a crazy shift that happens because of that table between the Old Testament and the New Testament. It swings from God laying out a table before our enemies to inviting enemies to the table.

* O.T. “They tried to kill us. We survived. Let’s eat!” 

* N.T. “I love you! I forgive you! Let’s eat!”

In this current divisive culture, I challenge you to invite others the table of your life.

The truth is, you have never looked into the eyes of someone God doesn’t love.

Pull up a chair.

“There are no two good days in a row for a leader.” — John Maxwell

I recently read this, then experienced it immediately after. 🤣

Anyone else? Read a quote then see it play out in front of you?

Yesterday was a great day. Everything just seemed to flow. Then came today. From the moment my feet hit the floor until about an hour ago, it felt like one punch after another.

Emotionally, spiritually, physically, personally, professionally. It didn’t really seem to matter what realm. They were all hard.

Then I made a decision. I could sit in my pity party or I could show up for myself.

I decided that even though I didn’t FEEL like it, I would go to the gym. Then when I was there I took this picture because I wanted to remind myself that I wasn’t there for anyone other than me.

That I’m enough to show up for.

You might be reading this thinking to yourself that you’re not a leader. The reality is, you’re leading you.

Leadership isn’t about chasing comfort or consistency. It’s about showing up after the hard day, the misunderstood day, the exhausting day. Some days you win. Some days you learn. Every day, you lead you.

Stay faithful. Stay present. Your perseverance is shaping YOU even when it feels messy. 💪

Carl Sandburg once wrote of two ways to move through the world: the hippo and the eagle. The hippo lives low, wallowing in the mud, surviving by mass and momentum. The eagle rises above the mess, seeing farther, choosing its path, and moving with purpose. Sandburg was not insulting the hippo nor glorifying the eagle for spectacle, he was describing postures of the soul.

Strangely, I thought about his words and analogy while completing the Norwegian Foot March. I began to understand both creatures intimately, especially when the course turned wet, slick, and unforgiving for the last several miles.

The mud of the Norwegian Ruck March is unavoidable. It clings to boots, weighs down each step, and reminds you that gravity always collects a tax. Mud does not care about rank, experience, or motivation. It simply asks the same question over and over: How will you move through this?

Some respond like the hippo.

The hippo accepts the mud as home. It trudges forward with brute force, head down, shoulders hunched, enduring by sheer stubbornness. There is no elegance here, only survival. The hippo mindset says, “I will endure this because I must.” It grinds miles into the earth and accepts exhaustion as the cost of existence. In the mud, this posture keeps you moving, but it also keeps your eyes low. You see only the next painful step.

Others learn to move like the eagle.

The eagle cannot escape the mud entirely, nobody can, but it refuses to live in it. The eagle lifts its eyes. It watches the terrain, picks firmer ground when possible, shortens or lengthens stride with intention, and keeps a distant point in view. The eagle mindset says, “This is hard, but it has meaning.”The eagle does not deny the mud; it transcends it by purpose.

On the Norwegian Foot March, everyone gets dirty. The difference is not cleanliness but consciousness. The same is true for life.

When the mud is thick and the clock feels heavy, the hippo asks, “How much longer can I suffer?”

The eagle asks, “Why am I here, and who am I becoming?”

The mud becomes a mirror.

It reveals whether you are merely enduring discomfort or allowing it to shape discipline. Whether you are surviving the march or letting the march teach you something about perseverance, humility, and focus. It slows the fast, humbles the strong, and exposes the unprepared. But it also unifies. Everyone slips. Everyone sinks. Everyone has a moment where quitting feels reasonable.

That is where Sandburg’s words hit me most.

The hippo will finish by force if it finishes at all. The eagle finishes by vision.

In life we will always encounter mud in the form of thankless tasks, long deployments, unseen sacrifices, or leadership frustrations that feel heavy and unfair. We can wallow, or we can rise. We can live pressed into the earth by resentment, or we can lift our gaze and remember the larger mission.

Life does not reward those who avoid the mud. It honors those who move through it with resolve.

When the mud pulls at your boots and the weight presses into your shoulders, remember Sandburg’s animals. You may feel like a hippo in the moment and that’s human. But choose, again and again, to think like an eagle.

Lift your eyes. Fix your bearing. Step with purpose.

The mud will still be there.

But it will not define you.

I received short notice that we had Soldiers going out on mission and that I had an opportunity to pray with them before they went.

Not having time to grab my Bible, I spied a deck of playing cards nearby. Around this time every year I would invite my former high school Science teacher, David Eidahl to speak at my church’s Christmas Eve service.

He often used a deck of cards to explain the Gospel. Here is what I could remember from those beautiful services and what I shared with Soldiers that day.

We start with the ACE, it tells me that there is one GOD and no other. 

When I see the "2," it reminds me that there are two parts the Bible, the OLD TESTAMENT and the NEW TESTAMENT. 

The "3" tells me of the TRINITY OF GOD THE FATHER, GOD THE SON and GOD THE HOLY SPIRIT. 

The "4" reminds me of the FOUR GOSPELS, MATTHEW, MARK, LUKE and JOHN. 

When I see the "5," it tells me of the FIVE UNWISE VIRGINS who were lost and that five were saved. 

The "6" makes me mindful that GOD CREATED THE EARTH IN JUST SIX DAYS, and GOD said that it was good. 

When I see the "7," it reminds me that GOD RESTED ON THE SEVENTH DAY. 

As I look at the "8," it reminds me that GOD DESTROYED ALL HUMAN LIFE BY WATER EXCEPT FOR EIGHT PEOPLE, Noah, his wife, their three sons, and their three son's wives. 

When I see the "9," I think of the NINE LEPERS that GOD healed. There were ten lepers in all, but only one stopped to thank him. 

The "10" reminds me of the TEN COMMANDMENTS carved in stone by the hand of GOD. 

The "JACK" makes me remember the Prince of Darkness. Like a roaring lion, he devours those that he can. 

When I look at the "QUEEN," I see THE CHURCH, THE BRIDE OF JESUS. 

As I look at the last card, "THE KING," it reminds me that JESUS IS LORD OF LORDS and KING OF KINGS.

There are 365 spots on a deck of cards, and that is the number of days in each year. There are 52 cards to a deck and that is the number of weeks in a year. There are 12 picture cards and that is the number of months in a year. There are 4 different suits in a deck and that is the number of seasons in a year.

Most importantly, the deck of cards reminds me that I need JESUS...  365 days, 52 weeks and 12 months a year. 👑

Fellow Soldiers,

You probably didn’t see it but Secretary of War just put out a video called, “Make The Chaplain Corps Great Again.”

In my opinion, I think we’ve been pretty great all along. As I thought about his proposed reforms, I did think about the start of the Chaplain Corps.

Before you step forward on this mission, I want to remind you that you do not walk alone. You stand in a long and honorable line of warriors who have gone before you, men and women who carried both strength and compassion into the harshest places on earth.

One of those warriors was St. Martin of Tours, a Roman soldier like you. Long before he became known as a saint, Martin wore the uniform, stood watch, followed orders, and faced the same cold uncertainty that you face today.

One winter night, while on duty, Martin encountered a beggar shivering in the freezing air. He had no money to give, no spare supplies, only his cloak, the symbol of his service and protection. Without hesitation, Martin drew his sword and cut his cloak in two, giving half to the man so he would not freeze.

That night, Martin dreamed he saw Christ wrapped in that half-cloak, saying, “Martin, though not yet baptized, has clothed Me.” In that moment, Martin understood something that every true warrior eventually learns: strength is not diminished by compassion, strength is revealed by it.

From that cloak, capella in Latin, comes the word chaplain. The chaplain is the keeper of the cloak, the reminder that even in war, mercy matters. Even in combat, humanity must be guarded. Even in darkness, light must be carried.

You, too, carry a cloak.

You carry the cloak of duty, to accomplish the mission.

You carry the cloak of loyalty, to the Red Bull on your left and right.

And you carry the cloak of character, to protect those who cannot protect themselves.

You are warriors, yes, but you are also guardians. You represent something greater than yourselves. Your presence brings order out of chaos, hope out of fear, and peace where there is none.

Go forward with confidence.

Stand firm in discipline.

Watch over one another.

And when the moment comes to choose, I pray you choose courage, choose compassion, and choose honor.

May you return having accomplished the mission, protected your brothers and sisters, and upheld the values that define who you are.

Stand tall. Stay faithful. Carry the cloak.

Godspeed.

The holidays are easily my favorite season. Warm fires, tons of goodies to snack on and for my house, Christmast break. With all the fun also comes a ton of work. Getting the house decorated, purchasing the right gift, extra baking and so the list goes on. I sometimes refer to this time as the “Holi-daze”,  a swirl of emotional stress, increased responsibilities, and with being deployed, a mix of bittersweet longing for home. 

It is in this space that I draw my deepest strength from home. Families play a powerful role in helping Soldiers stay grounded, motivated, and emotionally healthy during a time that can feel both joyful and heavy. I’ve come up with a few meaningful ways families can support their Soldier through the Holi-daze.

Stay Connected, Even in Small Ways

• Send short, encouraging messages as often as communication allows. With the time change, voice memos or videos are fun to wake up to. 

• Share photos of family life, traditions, or small joys that remind them of home.

• Mail handwritten cards or holiday notes they can keep in a pocket or ruck.

Honor Their Absence Without Making Them Feel Guilty

• Let them know you understand duty comes first.

• Avoid emphasizing what they’re “missing.”

• Celebrate traditions in a way that honors them, maybe saving a special part to share later when they return.

Maintain Healthy Routines at Home

• Keep daily family routines consistent. I love hearing about my son’s basketball games or my daughter’s research papers. 

• Continue positive traditions and rituals.

• Share updates, not to worry them, but to let them know life is moving forward in a healthy way.

Create Space for Their Feelings

• Listening without trying to “fix” everything

• Allowing them to talk about what’s hard. I get it, they were excited to deploy and now it has worn off, stay with them in it. 

• Encouraging them to rest and decompress when they do get time to call or visit

Support Their Battle Rhythm

• Stay flexible with plans, I’ve seen missions and added and canceled three times just this week. 

• Shifts often change. With twenty four hour operations, Soldiers can often rotate their sleep schedule every few weeks. Be patient with them. 

• Give them time and space to recharge between work activities.

The Holi-daze can be complicated for Soldiers, but families have an extraordinary ability to help steady them during this time. Through communication, compassion, flexibility, and shared resilience, families can lift their Soldier’s spirit. 

Every message, every prayer, every moment of understanding strengthens the connection between Soldiers and the families who stand behind them. And in that connection, both find the courage and hope to move through the season with gratitude and strength. We’re almost home. 

This week I took the Combat Life Saver (CLS) Course, also known as “that class where you realize your buddy’s life may depend on you remembering which pouch the tourniquet is in.”

Let me tell you… it was equal parts motivating, humbling, and mildly terrifying.

What I Learned

• How to save a life under pressure. Mannequins are surprisingly judgmental when you mess up chest seals.

• Tourniquets are easy, until someone’s watching. Nothing makes your hands suddenly forget how to work like an instructor staring into your soul.

• “High and tight” is a lifestyle, not a suggestion. You will hear this phrase approximately 74 times a day. By the end of the course, you’re applying everything high and tight, bandages, morale, even your bootlaces.

• Stress tests are real, but so is your grit.

  Your brain might try to panic, but your training kicks in. Muscle memory > adrenaline chaos.

• Everyone becomes an expert… after one slide of PowerPoint. You’ll hear, “Oh yeah, I saw this once,” from people who absolutely did not see this once.

• I discovered that my natural reaction to stress is apparently narrating everything out loud like I’m on a cooking show: “And now we apply the gauze, folded nicely like a tactical taco…”

Here is the encouraging part:

This course reminds you why we train.

Because being ready to save a teammate matters.

Because confidence grows when you push yourself.

Because courage isn’t just on the battlefield, it’s in the classroom, the practice lanes, and in choosing to be the one who steps forward instead of stepping back.

Sounds a lot like life, huh?

Laugh through the awkward moments, learn from the tough ones, and remember, you’re becoming someone’s lifeline.

And if you see me on the lane practicing again…

Just know the dummy started it.

10 a.m. on a weekday. We roll through another village. Half built, ruined by decades of war, progress stalled by generational poverty. Trash litters the streets.  I can’t help but notice the children. They are barefoot, clothes worn thin, eyes bright and curious. They wave, some smile, some just stand there and watch as our convoy passes.

Their world looks nothing like ours. The streets are rough, homes are simple, and daily life is marked by a kind of struggle most Americans will never know. But in those small faces, there’s hope. There’s the simple joy of being alive, even in hard places.

As a life long educator and father, these kids should be in school. My kids are in school. Moments like that put things into perspective. It’s easy to get caught up in the routine or frustration of deployment, to miss the bigger picture.

Seeing those kids reminds us that what we’re doing matters. We’re not just here to complete missions or fill reports, we’re here to create space for safety, for stability, for something better to grow. We stand watch so others can have a chance at peace.

And it reminds us, too, of what we have waiting for us back home. We come from a nation where freedom isn’t just a word, it’s a daily reality. Where children walk to school without fear, where water runs clean, and where voices can rise without repression. We often take that for granted and we get pieces of news about what is happening on the home front, but out here, it becomes crystal clear: being an American is a blessing.

Gratitude doesn’t always come easy, especially when you’re tired and far from home. It is gratitude that gives meaning to sacrifice. It reminds us that every patrol, every hardship, every long day serves a purpose. We’re part of something larger than ourselves, a mission not just of defense, but of hope.

As we move forward, we carry with us those images, the smiles of local children, the simple joy they show amid so little. They remind us why we serve, and why we’re thankful to call America home.

Gratitude isn’t just about what we have. It’s about what we can give, and out here, that’s exactly what we’re doing.

Some people work for recognition. Others work for promotion. But then there are those rare few who work for something deeper, they work for joy. That’s what makes SGT Block stand out.

Every day, he shows up with the same steady smile and humble attitude, even when the tasks are repetitive and the days feel long. He and a few others write a “Scripture of the Day” in a visible area that hundreds of Soldiers pass by everyday.

In a world where it’s easy to grumble or just “go through the motions,” SGT Block chooses joy. Not because the job changes, but because his heart is fixed on why he does it.

Scripture says:

“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men.” — Colossians 3:23

For SGT Block, that verse isn’t a slogan, it’s a lifestyle. He’s learned that when you shift your focus from working for people to working for the Lord, something incredible happens: joy replaces frustration. Purpose replaces boredom. Faithfulness replaces fatigue.

In the grind of military life, the checklists, the routines, the same duties day after day, he reminds others that joy isn’t found in the task itself, but in who you’re doing it for. His attitude lifts the morale of everyone around him, proving that joy isn’t a reaction to circumstances; it’s a decision made every morning.

SGT Block’s example challenges all of us:

Are we working for approval, or are we working for joy?

When you choose to work for the Lord, joy follows, even in the most repetitive of days. And that kind of joy doesn’t just change your attitude; it changes the atmosphere.

So the next time the day feels repetitive, think of SGT Block’s example. Keep showing up. Keep giving your best. Not because someone is grading your performance, but because the Lord sees your heart, and in His eyes, every faithful act matters.

When you work for the Lord, no job is ever truly small.

Under the dim glow of floodlights and the desert’s cool night air, a circle of Soldiers bows their heads in prayer. Dust hangs in the air, silence fills the space, and faith bridges the distance between home and deployment. What began as a simple reading of James 2 turned into a moment of conviction, unity, and shared purpose.

“Faith without works is dead.”

The words hit differently when you’re thousands of miles from home, carrying more than just a rifle, the weight of responsibility, brotherhood, and belief.

James’ challenge to live out faith through action spoke directly into the hearts of those gathered tonight.

The passage reminds us that genuine faith shows up not in words alone, but in deeds, in the way one Soldier encourages another through exhaustion, in shared meals, in protecting one another through long nights, and in the prayers whispered before missions.

One by one, voices lifted as each Soldier prayed for strength, for family back home, for harvest season and for the courage to live out what they believed.

No rank, no titles, just brothers in arms seeking the presence of God in the middle of the dust and the duty.

Moments like these rarely make headlines, yet they speak to the quiet strength of those who serve: men and women who not only wear the uniform but also carry faith into the fight. In this circle, the message of James 2 isn’t just read, it is lived.

Because faith here isn’t theory. It’s action.

And in this moment, action begins with prayer. 🙏