My oldest son sat in the passenger seat across from me, head propped against the window, eyes staring blankly at the ever changing landscape out his window. We’d been driving for about 3 hours and so far he was pretty quiet.

Most questions got a 1-4 word answer. I noticed that he had been more this way lately. His blue eyes still bright, but bright less often then they used to be.

When the kids turn 12 I take them on a trip, just the 2 of us; they pick the destination and the agenda.

Our destination was a little air bnb on an even smaller “lake” just outside of Plymouth, NY. And the agenda? Golf.

As we headed north from Pennsylvania the silence in the car wasn’t awkward but there was quite a bit more of it than I expected. I figured I’d give him his space.

As we got closer to the air bnb he perked up and helping me navigate the lonely NY backroads seemed to perk him up. When we pulled up to the air bnb, it was raining. He went inside, flipped on the TV, propped his feet up and got quiet again.

After about an hour I said, “Hey, should we go find a grocery store?”

“Sure.” He said flatly.

On our way to town we passed the Canasawacta Golf Club and his face LIT UP. “Dad, he said, we have to stop and check that place out on the way back!”

“Lets do it!” I said relieved to finally see him excited.

That moment was like dawn and over the next 2 days his demeanor got sunnier and sunnier with each hour. At one point he even started beat boxing with excitement - something I had never seen him do.

On the way home he kept reaching over and putting his hand on my arm while I was driving in a half hug and about every 30 minutes he would put his head on my shoulder and tell me he loved me.

Watching him light up as we spent undistracted time together is something I will never forget.

That trip was a profound reminder to me that there is no substitute for connection with another human being.

For 56 hours we spent intentional time, that was uninterrupted and enjoyed common interest. Time with someone involving these 3 things can only be meaningful.

If you’re feeling a little dim this morning, remember that you and I wired for connection. When we are properly connected, we cannot help but light up.

In your corner,

Matt

She sat poised, her pen hovering over the checkbook, “I just want you be happy, is this what you want?”.

The reply from her grandson was like all the rest of them had been so far that morning. Short and rude; “I guess.” he muttered, with so much disdain you would have assumed his grandma was not about to buy him a very nice car.

The grandson was the one who had arranged for them to come to our dealership. He was the one that wanted to look at several of the similar cars we had. He drove multiple cars and hand picked the exact one he wanted. This was in fact the car he wanted.

As their time at the lot progressed it was clear that grandma paid for everything for her grandson. The Grandma kept saying “I just want you to be happy.” Her grandson was many things but happy was not one of them.

I’ve thought back on this story many times over the last few years.

It always reminds me of the incredibly important role that work plays in our lives.

We were made to work.

We were made to earn.

We were made to enjoy the fruit of our labor.

It’s fascinating to me that some of the most content people I have known have also been the hardest workers I’ve known. They put the hours in rain or shine, year after year and yet, unlike the above mentioned grandson, they truly are happy.

Working and earning grounds us.

It keeps us humble.

We are grateful for the harvest that comes in and when we reap the reward of our work it brings a deep satisfaction like few things in life do.

Work reminds us that everything has a cost and nothing is free.

Imagine if that grandma had been more focused on her grandsons contentment than his happiness. How I wish she wanted him to learn gratitude instead of being sure he had what made him “happy”. If that was the case, she would have helped him get a job instead of a cool car.

Its another Monday morning, the only August 24, 2026 you’ll ever have and it’s a great Monday morning to get to work.

In your corner,

Matt

“But Dad, its going to start raining soon!” my son protested when I told him to get his firewood cutting clothes on.

I cracked the patio door, the clouds definitely had a rain soaked gray color to them and a cool breeze was starting to cut through the humid August air. I opened the weather app and the radar showed we had 27 minutes until rain hit.

I want our kids to learn what can be accomplished in just a few focused minutes and I also want them to learn to work rain or shine. So even though the weather report was not in our favor I told the boys to meet me outside and I figured we’d do all we could with the time we had.

As it turned out the rain never hit and we got a lot done. As I worked, especially those first 27 minutes, I couldn’t help but think about what happens when we use our time well.

Time is a fascinating thing to me. You can invest money, earn interest and get more of it. You can invest more in relationships and get more and better friends. You can invest more in your gift set and perfect your craft.

But every second that passes us by, will never be seen again. We cannot take that second and multiply it or invest or earn interest on it.

All there is to do with time is spend it or waste it.

When we spend time, we use it to buy what we want. More freedom, more income, more knowledge, more connection, more skills, more relationship, more joy, more relaxation… more of whatever we choose.

When we waste time we are using it but not to get something we actually want, spending it on a second rate life. Every human feels the sting of time wasted.

Wasted time looks like working over time when we know we should be with family.

Wasted time looks like staying in a dead end 9-5 job because we’re just too nervous to push into what we would really love to do.

Wasted time looks like habitually avoiding the real work we’re to be about.

On this Monday morning, you have thousands of seconds and hundreds of minutes in front of you. Here’s the great news: what you do with those minutes is entirely up to you.

Time is the greatest currency. Time is the greatest gift. Time is on your side.

In your corner,

Matt

“Dad, do you want to bike to Jim Bobs?” Archie asked.

Jim Bobs was a local general store not far from the rental house we were in for the week.

The bikes at the vacation rental were rough and left you wishing that AAA also offered a road side bike service.

In spite of this I smiled and said “Sure, we can bike to Jim Bobs.” The smile on his face made it worth it and his two brothers quickly decided to ride along too.

We went out to the garage and selected the bikes that appeared to have the best chance of making it the 3 mile round trip. This pickings were slim. We attempted to leave but both of my bikes tires needed pumped up. We made several more attempts and finally, on the 4th try, the bikes were as ready to roll as they were going to be. The first quarter of our journey was pretty flat and uneventful.

Then we hit the hills.

The first hill was a short climb but as the 3 of us with fancy bikes tried to down shift the woods began to echo with the sound of chains grinding, popping, and doing everything except for shifting.

My youngest son, Reggie, was on a one speed bike. He pedaled until he couldn’t and then happily jumped off and pushed his bike the rest of the way. Climbing aboard again once the trail flattened out.

Unfortunately the rest of the trip was pretty hilly and with every new incline the 3 of us with the swanky bikes groaned as our two wheel steeds malfunctioned with each shift of the gears. The only one who wasn’t groaning, yet again, was Reggie.

He relished the down hills and zoomed past us. Like an 18 wheeler driver passing through the mountains of West Virginia he gained as much speed on the downhills as he could hoping his momentum would carry him up the next hill. His plan worked pretty well and each time his inertia ran thin, with a smile on his face, he jumped off again and pushed.

That night, as I thought about the events of the day, I realized something about Reggies experience versus ours; He had no expectation of making it to the top of the hill without pushing his bike so he could just do his best and enjoy the ride.

The rest of us had modern bikes with shocks, plenty of gears and we rode with the expectation that the bikes would work and the ride would be easy.

Reggies bike had one single gear and he knew that at some points along the way he was going to have to walk and he was 100% ok with that.

Life rarely goes as planned and it’s the unmet expectations and disappointments that can make us groan along the way, wanting to quit, and wonder why things aren’t going our way.

When we approach the journey knowing we’ll have to walk sometimes, our expectations are aligned with reality and we can simply enjoy the path we’re on. After all, any forward movement is progress and walking is still getting you closer to the top of the hill.

Maybe you’ve given up on some hills but today’s not a day for quitting.

The truth is, a single mindset is the best way to get to the summit. Pedal hard when its easy and when the gears jam or you run out of steam, jump off and walk if you have too.

But no matter what, give yourself one single option: get to the top.

In your corner,

Matt

The boat turned sharply and accelerated to the right. The tube I was on whipped out left of the wake and into the blue flat expanse of water at what I was sure had to be 107 miles per hour. I was sure that at any second the outside edge of the tube might dive below the surface and send us skipping like rocks across the surface of the water.

Despite my instinct to grasp the handles for dear life, I kept my chest and shoulders pressed against the tube. At the very height of the torque on my body- just when I thought I was about to hurtle off the tube- I used my right hand to lightly grab a handle at the center of the tube to steady myself.

I had finally cracked the secret to tubing.

In the past I would always rest my elbows on the tube, grasp two of the handles on the tube as hard as my fingers would allow and keep my head up so I could see what was coming next. The downside of this position is that you have to tense your muscles in your neck, back and shoulders and your upper body acts as a shock absorber for every bounce the tube takes.

When you wake up the next morning the pain in your upper body quickly reminds you what you did the day before.

This year I finally learned that when you’re heading into the bumps the best thing you can do is let go of the handles and lower your center of gravity by keeping your chest on the tube- when you do this you don’t even need to hang on most of the time. The weight of your body on the tube is (usually) enough to hold you in place until the ride smooths out again.

As I sat by the lake later that night, that days tubing adventure got me thinking about my own life.

It used to be that when I would go through hard things I would take it personally. I could never understand why this hard thing was happening to me. It would get me sideways mentally and emotionally. I would have to talk to 17 people to vent and whine and hope they could fix my problem for me.

Things would go sideways and I would get even further sideways.

I’m a slow learner but Im finally learning to relax when life gets bumpy. Im learning to stop assuming that hard times should not happen to me. Im learning that the journey life takes us through is not focused on one particular outcome but rather on shaping me into the person I’m supposed to be.

Any story of a human who ever went somewhere meaningful started with a hard time and the odds stacked against them.

Inspiring movies and biographies are never written about people who had nothing to overcome. Just the opposite in fact.

The hard things give us the gift of growth.

The secret to the hard times is to go low, ease your grip on the handles and maybe even smile on the way over the bumps. If it starts to feel like you’re hanging on for dear life, reach out and have a conversation with a trusted friend. Not to whine but to tell them your story so that you don’t have to walk alone.

This Monday morning, are you taking the bumps personally or seeing them as an opportunity to grow?

Are you upset that your short term plan appears to be foiled or are you focused on the person you are becoming in the long run?

Right now, that hard things, and the unplanned bumps are taking you closer to where you’re supposed to be.

It really is all happening for you, not to you.

In your corner,

Matt

I walked around the beautiful property as my friend proudly took me on a tour of the home they had just purchased. It was a great neighborhood, a house with space for the kids and a fantastic upgrade from their current home. But as we walked around the outside of the house, the trees were pushing so close against it that I was beginning to feel a little claustrophobic. Even though it was a bright sunny day the trees were so thick that they kept the sun from getting down to their yard.

As we rounded the last corner and headed towards the front of the house my friend said “The first thing we’re going to do is take out some of these trees!”

Ten days later I stopped in to see how the progress was coming. As I neared the house the first thing I noticed was that you could actually see it from the road. The tree guy had shown up! As we sat on the deck sunlight was actually making its way all the way to us. When we walked around the house the property felt even more amazing. Now there was space for a shed and a fire pit with Adirondack chairs around it and just about anything else they would have wanted to put in.

As I drove away I could not help but think about the difference that space makes. Space is a funny thing. Its hard to see it unless you’re intentionally looking for it.

In a song, space is silence and silence at the right moment can make a great song even more amazing.

In a home, space is just open air but space in the right place can add incredible beauty and highlight that homes elegance.

In a garden, space is just unused ground, but those unused areas allow the things that you really want to grow to take root, have room to spread out and reach their full potential.

This morning I deleted the Facebook app off my phone. It was taking up too much space. It seemed like every time I wasn’t sure what to do next I was clicking that blue f and scrolling.

You and I live in a time where every single square inch of our lives will be taken up if we let it. A lot of us know how it feels to live with no space.

This Monday morning, how much space do you have?

Is there something planted in every square inch of the garden of your life?

What trees can you clear away so that you’re free to experience all the beauty your life has to offer?

When was the last time you gave yourself intentional space?

When we try to grow everything at the same time, nothing thrives. When we choose the best things and clear away the other things, our life becomes a beautiful place!

In your corner,

Matt

I parked my car at my usual spot along Main Street and started the trek to the park on Broad St. It was Fathers day morning and when my wife asked what I wanted to do that morning, I said “First, I’d like to go for a walk in Lititz.”

I love Lititz. I was born and raised here and when I walk the streets, I feel like I’m where I belong.

The plan was to follow my usual route; walk up the north side of main street, take a right at the bank then cross Broad Street into the park and head for the springs where Lititz Run begins.

Today was a different Fathers day, it was the first one since my Dad had passed away. As I walked I passed Roma pizza, the place where Dad and I had so many lunches together when his office was on Broad Street. If we were having lunch in Lititz, Roma was the only option.

Then I came to the traffic light where grandpa had passed away a little over 67 years ago. He had stopped at the bank that day and was on his way to the office when he stopped at the red light at the square - something he had done many, many times before. To the shock of his family and community, that traffic light was where he suffered a heart attack and passed away.

As I walked, I thought about these two men who had gone before me. They used to walk these streets, almost everyday of their life. Their time on this earth had come and gone and now it’s my turn.

It can seem like we are far removed from those who have gone before us. I never had a chance to meet Grandpa Gibbel but on that day, walking the paths I know both he and my dad had walked, I felt connected to them.

Grandpa was an insurance man, my dad practiced law, I’m a car guy. Our lives are very different yet they rhyme with each other in a way that only the lives of family members can.

As I wrapped up my walk I wondered if my boys would walk these streets one day? Will my grandchildren find solace and hope on the paths that lead around the Lititz Spring as I have many times?

That fathers day walk was a reminder that none of us live in a vacuum. Our lives are directly affected by those who have gone before and our life will directly impact those who come behind.

This week’s Monday Morning Motivation is a simple reminder that each day of this life is precious. Each choice we make matters. And that all of us have even more influence than we can begin to imagine. That influence is not just for those who we share time on earth with, but also for those who will walk the paths we walked, long after we’re gone.

In your corner,

Matt

Last Sunday I walked out of our house and up to my office in the barn. For whatever reason the thought floated through my mind “I wonder where the golf cart is?” The kids usually leave it parked by the front door or at its place in the barn but it was in neither spot. The thought passed as quickly as it came and I went on with my day.

At dinner the next night there seemed to be a silent conversation going on between Toby and Archie. Finally I asked, “What’s going on guys?”

Archie dodged my glance but finally Toby slowly said “Archie knows where the golf cart is but he won’t tell me.”

It took about 1.3 seconds for the lightbulb to come on and suddenly my imagination started doom scrolling through all the possible places the golf cart could be.

After dinner Archie tried to slip out the back door but I caught up with him and said “Alright bud, show me where the golf cart is.”

“Ok.” He said flatly, staring at the ground. Without saying a word he started out across the yard, “I guess this is my cue to follow.” I thought to myself.

Archie crossed the yard, and went around the fence taking the path that lead towards the pasture. Then he started up the hill and eventually turned off to the left and started heading down through the tall grass towards the creek. We continued along the bank and finally the undercarriage of an upside golf cart came into view.

Archie stood on the bank above the golf cart, staring at is as if he had painted a masterpiece he was not proud of.

Thankfully, It was clear that he was ok, since this had happened several days ago and he was standing next to me. My first question was “Why didn’t you tell me?”. “I was scared I’d get in trouble.” He confessed.”

As someone who also was once 9 years old I completely understood. Eventually the rest of the family found their way to the creek bank and a few days later we worked together to pull the golf cart out of the creek.

The above events have had me thinking about the power of letting someone else know what’s going on in your life. It often feels more convenient, and less painful to hide in the short term, but as time passes, and the weight of what others don’t know quietly stacks up and gets heavier and heavier.

Once Archie confided in me, he was free. It took a village to pull the cart out but we worked together and made it happen. Not only that, but all of us were happy to help. Archie was not strong enough to pull the golf cart out on his own, but to get the help he needed, he had to pull back the curtain.

You and I were not made to walk alone. All of us, in our own way, have put the golf cart in the creek. In those moments, the best thing we can do is the opposite thing that we want to do - go tell someone.

Just talking about it with someone today will begin to lift the weight. There’s no shame. We’ve all been there and if someone judges you, it just means they aren’t willing to be honest with themselves about their own life yet.

The first step, it just to say the first few words.

In your corner,

Matt

In Loving Honor of My Dad, JRG

“Your dad wouldn’t like any of these.” My mom said as we stood in the room at the funeral home trying to pick out a casket for my Dad.

My 3 siblings and I nodded in agreement.

Her words lifted a weight off of me, I knew she was right, but what other options did we have?

We picked a casket but told the funeral home not to order it yet. As we walked to our cars Beth said, “Think we could get someone to build Dads casket?”.

“I bet his friend Bill would love to.” I said. Bill had been dad friends for many years, Bill often described Dad as a spiritual father, their friendship was long and deep.

I talked to Bill later that evening and holding back tears he said, “Matt I’m so honored that you asked me. I’d love to, but Im just not sure if I can, I don’t have a shop anymore but give me 24 hours to think about it.”

In the meantime we went to look at other places but the feeling was the same, no casket seemed quite right.

Then Bill called me back 28 hours later, “I’m in.” He said “Get me the dimensions by 11 am Monday morning.”

I sent Bill the dimensions and then called him Tuesday to ask him if he could engrave the lid of the casket.

Bill chuckled and said “Im a step ahead of you. I always called him The Gibb and your dad had a heart of gold so I was going to carve The Gibb in a heart on the lid and paint it Gold.

“I love that!” I said “But instead of The Gibb can you put his initials, “JRG”, in the heart?”

“Absolutely.” Bill said.

Thursday morning I went to pick up the casket. Neither Bill nor I had dry eyes as we loaded the beautiful white pine box into the back of my truck. As I drove away from Bills house I knew we had done right by Dad. To quote Dad, I knew he would have been “grinning like a mule eating briars” if he knew what we were up to.

Next, we wondered as a family what to put inside the casket. The box didn’t have the soft white plush interior that most caskets had and Dad was not a fancy guy, we knew he wouldn’t want the fluffy stuff.

Then John said, “Remember those blue North Face sleeping bags he bought back in 1979 to hike out west?” All of our faces lit up! Dad had one hobby- backpacking- what could be more perfect then to lay him to rest in the bag he spent most of his nights on the trail in.

Just a few days later 28 of us gathered at the Graveside, 9 adults, 18 grandchildren and 1 great grandchild. Each of us brought scripture verses, memories and stories, and wrote them on the casket. Then with many tears and laughter we shared what we wrote and why.

It was perfect, in the truest sense of the word.

Then, with Dad surrounded by all of our love and wrapped in his favorite blue sleeping bag we carefully placed the casket in the ground.

A life very well lived.

Many, many people touched by the person He was.

And with grateful hearts we gave back to the Father, the man He had so graciously given to us.

This experience was a powerful reminder to me that when the thing in front of you just does not feel right, it’s because the right thing is out there, waiting for you.

When you feel that Holy pause, listen to it.

All it wants to do is point you towards the right thing.

In the moment, it seemed crazy not to pick a casket. We only had a few days to make a decision and it felt like letting go of a trapeze before the next one was in sight.

But it was the right thing to do and Im so grateful we did!

May Faith and Risk be your faithful companions this week.

In your corner,

Matt

“Dad, why is no one shooting the ball?!” My son Toby asked.

We were sitting on the couch a few nights ago watching the World Cup and I was starting to notice the same thing. Players would have the ball near the goal but then they would take too many touches on the ball or hold onto it for just a few seconds too long in an effort to set up the perfect shot.

The result was that they either lost their chance or by the time they got a shot off defenders were able to crowd around them, making scoring a goal nearly impossible. The more games we watched that week the more I noticed this seemed to be a common thread throughout all the games.

There were of course some beautiful goals but very few goals were perfectly set up and the players that did score, more times than not, just stuck their foot out and struck the ball anyway they could.

I thought back to my soccer days and my coach who had one very simple rule if you were anywhere near the goal; “Shoot the ball.”

When you take a shot anything can happen.

Best case, it goes in the goal. Second best, it bounces of the crossbar and you or someone else from your team gets a second shot. Worst case, the defense takes it back and clears the ball out of the area. No matter the outcome, you acted and you got that much more comfortable with risk.

So many times in my life I have held onto the ball for that extra 1-3 seconds. It’s a short amount of time but it can make all the difference. I wanted the situation to be perfect. I wanted the stars to be aligned before I took the risk.

But life rarely tees up the perfect shot for us. Even if it does, you still have to risk and own the moment if you’re going to put the ball in the net. This is for your good, if you don’t learn to risk and face the fear you’ll never become fully who you were supposed to be.

What does holding on to the ball too long look like in our day to day life? It looks like listening to these thoughts:

“Ill start (pick any day except today)… tomorrow, next week, next month, next year.”

“Ill start once the kids are a little older”

“I’ll start when I have more time.”

“I’ll start when someone sees my gifts and asks me to help them.”

“I’ll start when I feel more confident or when I feel inspired”

Today, the windows you have to act in won’t be open forever.

Its time to take your shot.

In your corner,

Matt

“Did those things even happen?” I asked myself last week as I stared at the over sized post it note on my office wall.

Its funny how the expectation of perfection can blind us to reality.

Each year on my birthday I take some time to write, reflect and pray about the year ahead and then I pick a theme for the next 12 months.

On the right side of my desk, stuck to the wall, is one of those 3’ x 2’ Post It notes that I write the theme for each year to keep it in front of me for the next 12 months.

That day I was reading through the last 3 years:

38 was “The year of the battery.” The goal was to become more grounded. A battery can have all the power you need but if the ground wire isn’t hooked up, it can’t do its job.

39 was “The year of the bird and finding my wings” - I was doing a lot of work on myself when the year started and on the hardest and worst days- when I wanted to give up the most- I kept seeing cardinals.” Their message seemed to be: “keep going.”

40 was “The year of power and the lights in the house coming on.” - As this year started It felt like I had been floating for most of life, spending a lot of time doing things I thought I should do or at least what I thought others thought I should do. But now it was like my feet were finding the ground and a solid place to stand.

As I read over the 3 themes, at first it felt like none of them happened. But then I realized that when I wrote those things I had a picture in my head of how each would look. I was looking through the lens of perfection. When I was really honest, each of those things had happened, just not in the way I expected.

While I was 38 - The year of the battery- I had two jobs where I was in management, in both places I had co-workers who disliked me and actively worked against my success. It was crazy and I had never experienced anything like that before. But as I looked back, I realized how much I had grown at both places. I had also helped others around me grow and left both roles with grace.

39 - The year of the bird and finding my wings - was a year of healing the past, revisiting trauma, and looking back so that I could look forward without the rose colored glasses that had colored the first 4 decades of my life.

And at 40 - The year of power and the lights in the house coming on - I started digging deeper. I started writing more. I started to believe that my thoughts and ideas had value. For the first time, I was starting to trust myself. I started to be driven by an inner fire because I was starting to do work that I believed truly mattered. I wasn’t just writing, I was becoming a writer.

The reason I missed what happened during those years was because I was looking through the lens of perfection.

Today, don’t let perfection keep you from realizing the person you are becoming. If you want to grow, you are. If you want to become more fully the person you were made to be, its already happening. It happens slower than we could ever imagine and also faster than we ever thought possible all at the same time.

In your corner,

Matt

This week I totally duffed a golf shot in front of a group of people I wanted to impress. I was playing at a fund-raiser and on the first tee, with about 10 other people watching, I hit the ball 15 yards almost directly to the left into a large area of 2 foot high gross.

The next 17 holes I hit 17 decent tee shots. Nothing too fancy but I got the ball at least semi-close to where I wanted it to go, 17 times in a row.

The next morning I went for a run and as I ran I thought about that first tee shot. As I made my way around the gravel loop I thought about the insecurity I was feeling the day before. After after a few minutes of running it hit me just how similar insecurity and ego are.

As I reflect back on that first tee shot the only difference between that shot and the next 17 was 10 people watching.

Even though I don’t want to admit it, on that first swing, I wanted to impress them. I didn’t need them to be totally impressed but deep down I wanted them to think I was at least a decent golfer.

Its fascinating to me that both insecurity and ego are two different forms of self focus.

Insecurity says I am not enough and don’t have enough and so my value is less than yours. Ego says I am enough because of what I have, who I know or what Ive done so I have more value than you.

Both are quietly obsessed with the question “Do I measure up?”, some over compensate (ego) and others under compensate (insecurity).

What I was really doing on the golf tee was trying to prove my value. The only reason that bad golf shot bothered me was because I was hoping that everyone there would think a little better of me and that I would measure up just a little more in their book if I could make the ball land in the fairway. The irony is, would I even want to be friends with someone who would place so much of my value on my golf game?

As my run was wrapping up it dawned on me that Insecurity and ego both live off of a steady diet of comparison.

It feels so terrible to compare ourselves to others because we were never made to do that. When we compare we always find ourselves wanting or overestimating our value. There is no healthy perspective that can come from comparing.

Instead, we were made to rest in the incredible value we already have. When we rest in who we are, regardless of what we perceive ourselves or others to have other not have, we get to enjoy being who we were made to be.

Gratitude and refusing to compare yourself to anyone are the antidotes to ego and insecurity.

Next time I’m teeing off in front of 10 other people, Im going to attempt to stand on that tee box and be grateful that I get to play golf on a week day. Im going to think about how awesome all 11 of us are and Im going to have a lot of fun taking that first swing, regardless of the outcome.

In your corner,

Matt

Just a few days ago I stood in the driveway at my parents home watching a black van from the funeral home take my Dad for his final trip down their wooded lane. Moments before we sat by his side, holding his hands, and showering our love on him as he breathed his final breaths.

While I celebrate that he is finally in the place he belongs, that last goodbye was so final; it just doesn’t feel real yet.

Since that moment in the driveway, time has taken on a whole new meaning. I’m seeing with greater clarity that every hour is precious. Every hour is a gift. And that every hour is packed with opportunity.

This morning I woke up unexpectedly at 5:25 AM. Normally I would have looked at my clock and been glad I had another hour to sleep. But today, when I saw 5:25 AM, I thought to myself “This next hour is precious.”

I didn’t feel like getting up but I sleepily rolled out of bed, groped in the darkness for some clothes and made my way to my office to write.

The finality of that goodbye with Dad is on my mind today. It was so black and white.

Time stopped for him but it rolls quietly on for the rest of us.

Time can’t be invested, it can only be spent. You can spend time wisely, and the more you do the more you’ll enjoy your life, but you can’t put time in the stock market and get more of it.

Each day has a fixed budget of 24 hours, we only get the choice of what we will do with it.

When you’re out of time, you realize how precious every moment is. You see how valuable a 15 minute visit with a loved one can be. You realize that a lazy afternoon spent with a good friend is a treasure. You see how special a hug from someone you love is.

When you’re out of time you begin to understand how great of a gift today really is.

Today, if you reading this, you have been given the greatest single thing any of us can receive;

Time.

In your corner,

Matt

One of my favorite childhood memories is being curled up on the couch before bed while my mom read to me. Two of our families favorite series were the Little House on Prairie and The Chronicles of Narnia.

The Horse and His Boy in the Chronicles of Narnia is still one of my favorite stories to this day.

In this story, the main character, Shasta, finds himself on an incredible adventure that leads him from orphanhood to sonship. His story is like everyone's else’s who goes in search of who they are.

When Shastas story starts he did not know he was an orphan but he knew that his life just never quite felt right as he grew up. The poor fisherman he called father was a harsh man and Shasta knew that when he ran away from him that he was doing the right thing. Leaving home was terrifying for him but the risk of staying was now greater than the risk of leaving.

After leaving home Shasta finds himself on an amazing adventure. Near the end of the story Shasta is desperately trying to get to Arkanland to warn King Loon of a surprise attack by the brash Prince Rabadash from the neighboring kingdom of Tashban.

We join Shasta while he and his traveling partner have just spent days crossing a brutal desert and now they are on horseback being chased by a lion. In these harrowing moments they happen across the home of the Hermit of Southern March and he graciously opens his gates to give them shelter.

Shasta hurtles into the courtyard and dismounts his horse to check on his companion who was injured by the lion. Instead of offering rest, the hermit points to Shasta and says. ‘Run, you must run!’ Whether uphill or downhill run! Run until you find King Loon and warn him of Rabadash’s army!’.

Shasta is confused and beyond exhausted but he heeds the hermits words and runs to find the king. He runs and runs and finally finds the king, delivers the message but then finds himself desperately lost in the mountains and almost runs into Rabadashs army.

As he wanders through the dark foggy mountain trails Shasta meets Aslan, the creator of that world and the author of Shastas story. As they talk Shasta realizes that all that has happened up to this point has only been preparing him for what is yet to come.

Finally Shasta happens upon King Loons castle just in time to fight Rabadash and after the battle he learns that he is actually king Loons long lost son. The story ends with him clumsily (at first) taking his place as the son of a king and stepping into the life he was born to live.

Our lives are no different than Shastas. We are born, unsure of who we are. When we start to be curious enough about who we are that we’re willing to leave our comfort zone, it starts us on an amazing adventure. That adventure is filled with risk, trial and error, wins, pain, discomfort and discovery.

Then we hit that point where we’ve come most of the way but all we want to do is quit. We just crossed our desert, got scared by the wildlife and everything inside is screaming “Stop!”. But that thing that got us curious enough to leave our comfort zone in the first place pushes forward us, telling us we must go, we must run!

So we run, but then we find ourselves lost, unsure and even hopeless. We’re sure that we were supposed to run but not sure exactly where to run to.

And then, when it looks like all is lost. When we’re sure we got the wrong map, and are in the wrong place, we find home. This moment never comes too late but it also never comes early.

You were born for greatness. Your story is not random. You were born to belong.

Today, whether you’re just setting out from the place thats never felt like home, or you’re running from the lion, don’t stop adventuring. When you’re close to the end and things are the most intense, don’t stop running, you will find home.

In your corner,

Matt

Ever since I was a kid I do this thing where I don’t wear my favorite clothes. My wife laughs at me while my favorite dress shirts hang in the closet, year after year, being preserved for some unknown future time.

While they are still in pristine condition, they also have never been enjoyed to anywhere near their fullest potential.

“If I wear them, they’ll get ruined.” I tell myself. As if I could never find another shirt that I love when the ones I have now are worn out.

I bought them to live in, but instead I hide them.

This week as I journaled I wrote: “Life is not meant to be clung to, it’s meant to be lived.”

One promise we never have as humans is tomorrow, 30 days from now or this time next year. We always plan on it, why wouldn’t you? But we plan with no guarantee.

Today is your dress shirt. You can do with it what you will. You can try to preserve and protect it from any harm or damage or you can pull it off the hanger, boldly put it on and be about the business of living, rips, stains, victories and all.

You cannot redo yesterday. You cannot skip forward into tomorrow. This moment in this 24 hours we call a day is the only guarantee you have.

What will you do with it? How will you live? What will you build? What value will you champion? Who will you be today?

Its time to live.

Its time risk.

Its time for me to start wearing my best dress shirts.

What is it time for you to do today?

In your corner,

Matt

I stood in the store, chatting with an acquaintance I bumped into but thinking to myself, “This is taking longer than the 3 minutes I had allotted for this.” I chatted as briefly as I could without being rude and then excused myself and was on to the next thing.

The last few weeks have been like this, every front seems to be busy and some days I’m literally planning out each minute of each day just to stay above water; not even to get ahead, just to break even.

Then on Saturday morning my wife woke up and said “Lets weed the bank.” If my heart could have sunk lower than my feet, it would have. “The bank” is a behemoth flower bed next to our driveway and weeding it makes going to the dentist feel like a vacation.

As we got to work, the physical labor was good for my body and my mind.

About 10 years ago we planted different kinds of bushes on the bank to help with weed control and add some much needed color. Each bush is beautiful in its own right but they were all getting lost in a mass of overgrown branches.

As I worked I noticed there wasn’t even space to walk between the bushes. Some of them had even started to grow through the other ones making them nearly inseparable.

While I trimmed the bushes, sometimes one small branch at a time, I thought about all the different things I had given my time to over the last 14 days. Each of them was a good thing. I was noticing though that the good things were starting to look a lot like the bushes on the bank: all the good things were growing together but some of the good things were actually starting to choke the great things out.

In life, you have to prune what looks beautiful now so you can enjoy the fullness of all the beauty that’s possible later. When we try to do all of it, our resources are spread too thin, we wind up doing none of it well and things that we really want can starve.

When we trim on purpose, the things that really need time and space to grow have what they need to prosper.

Intentional less leads to more of the best.

As you start this Monday morning, what good things need less of your attention so that the best things can grow?

5 years from now, what will you be glad you invested this weeks resources of time and energy in?

Before you commit to something, ask yourself, “Is this really the thing that I want to consistently send my resources to?” Many great things die on the vine because all the good things are getting the nourishment.

If you’re reading this, you probably have a branch or two you can trim. What do you need to do this week to free up that precious time so even more time can be dedicated to those few things that matter most?

Pruning hurts and good things are lost in the pruning process. When we prune, what we’re really doing, is making room for the absolute best in our lives to flourish.

In your corner,

Matt

Profound observations often occur while we are doing un-profound things.

This week as I stood by my van pumping gas, I realized that even though life certainly has not taken me in a straight line, my feet are actually finding the right road.

In baseball, when a curveball leaves the pitchers hand, it looks like its going the wrong direction but eventually it finds its way across home plate.

Life throws a lot of curve balls and my career has seen its fair share of them.

I got my first “professional” job in 2008, I was there for 5 years.

Job 2 - 5 years.

Job 3 - 4 years

Job 4 - 12 months

Job 5 - 6 months

“Job 6” - Foolishly taking 5 months off

Job 7 - 12 months

Thankfully at job 8 I’m about to cross the 2 year anniversary. The stability has been good and as I look back at the whirlwind that was 2021 -2025 the purpose of that time is coming into focus; to help me realize how discontent I am chasing anything other than what I was meant for.

I’m learning (and finally accepting) that I am built to be self-employed and I’m taking steps in that direction slowly but surely. I’m no longer just chasing a high paying job, a job with a title, or a job that lets me drive a nice car (I spent 15 years in the car business) I’m actually working to build the life I was designed to live.

From 2021- 2025 I was still chasing titles, a job that gave me a nice demo car and something that paid as much as possible. Yet, when I laid in bed at night, alone with my thoughts, none of that left me feeling any level of fulfillment.

Life is hard for 2 reasons. Either because we are on the path we were made for and we are putting in the work it requires or because we are running from that path we were made for.

The path we are made for builds endurance, thick skin, creativity, curiosity and a soft heart. The other path reinforces a lifestyle of avoiding risk, ignoring hard truths and ultimately leads to deep dissatisfaction.

This Monday morning, which path are you on? Are you building or are you running?

If you’re avoiding, I have great news, that path you were made for is still waiting for you. It will wait until you’re ready. Even though it will wait for you, why not start today and spend as much time on it as possible? We start on the path by taking the next step that we know we’ve been avoiding.

Very little progress in life is actually linear.

If you’re building, risking, facing the hard things, and riding the curve towards home plate, keep going.

And no matter which path you find yourself on - I’m in your corner,

Matt

A few weeks ago I sat in the stands at my son’s football game amazed at what was unfolding before me.

Have you ever seen a picture laid out in front of you so clearly that it felt like you were looking in the mirror of your own life?

As I watched the game I noticed something interesting about my son.

He was on the field, he was encouraging his team mates, when the ball was snapped he was running, he was paying attention to the game, he was wearing the team jersey and certainly looked like he was playing football.

But after a while I observed that wherever the action was, he usually ran away from it.

After the snap, he used every second he could - to get as far from the ball as possible.

He really wanted to play football but at the same time, it was clear he had no interest in playing football.

Ironically, In the course of the season, he took three snaps at quarterback. Two of the three times he threw a touchdown pass. But then he said he didn’t really want to play quarterback and was happy to just be a receiver.

As I watched I was humbled how much his actions mirrored my own life. I knew for years that I needed to start advertising my side hustle in the car business. It’s a model that works, my customers love it, the work brings me great joy and its the best way I see to gain more financial freedom right now.

I wanted to put more time and energy into it. I planned, I wrote the plan down, I talked about it, I told my wife what a great idea it was and then…I just never did it.

This avoidance seems to be something a lot of us experience; that one thing we know we need to do but we avoid, ignore, push off, run away from or take a shot or two at it but never embrace it and see it through. (I really wonder if my son could have been a pretty good quarterback?)

As you read this, if your neurons are firing and the one thing that you’ve been putting off is looking back at you in the mirror, don’t run this time.

Face it, look back at it, and most importantly go do it!

The reason that thing keeps coming up is because it is important! It’s waiting for you to give it the time and attention it needs. I can guarantee that it is the next step towards greater joy, freedom and fulfillment in your life.

Today, put on your jersey, lace up your shoes but don’t just take the field, go play the game!

In your corner, wiping of your gloves, cheering you on, get back in that ring!

Matt

Have you ever caught you lying to you?

A few days ago I caught myself red handed!

I was on a long drive and I was going to call a friend. Life had dealt him some unkind blows lately and I wanted to check in and see how he was doing.

It was near the end of a particularly long day and as I picked up my phone I thought to myself, “Im too tired.” And I put my phone down.

Then I realized how easily I had just let myself off the hook. “Man,” I thought, “3 little words and I just quit on my friend!”

I picked up the phone and made the call, after I hung up I was so glad I did!

As I thought that about that experience, here is what I learned:

“Im tired.” is a fact, something that occurs because we are human.

“Im too tired.” Is an excuse we use to give ourselves permission not to follow through with something we know we should accomplish.

Since this happened I’ve been amazed how many times I’ve put good things off and justified it by saying “Im too tired.”

Excuses may let us off the hook in the short term but ultimately they cost a higher price than we really want to pay.

I am a huge proponent of rest and we cannot be healthy physically, spiritually or emotionally until we routinely engage rest. Somedays we are tired and we need to rest.

But as you start this week, watch out for those 3 little words “Im too tired.” And when you hear yourself say them, stop and ask yourself: “Am I too tired or am I just tired?”.

It’s another beautiful Monday morning! You will find all the energy you need when start to move towards the thing you’ve been avoiding!

In your corner,

Matt

Lately I’ve observed this habit in my life where I avoid easy tasks.

Example 1: I dropped something off for work at Staples to get laminated a few weeks ago, it was done by the end of the day but it took me over a week to get back in and get it.

Example 2: One of my jobs at work is to restock the vending machine, I always do it, but I put it off to the last minute every time.

Last week I was wondering to myself why was it is so hard for me to do the easiest parts of my job? Why did I have such a hard time doing the simple task of driving the 15 minutes to Staples and why did I avoid the vending machine even though I actually enjoy this simple, mindless task?

I’d been chewing on this for a few days, then as I walked out to my car for work on Tuesday morning and as I considered the above questions again I almost heard myself say out loud “It’s not hard enough.”

This stopped me in my tracks.

At face value I have believed anything worth doing must be hard.

On a deeper level, I have believed that I am not worthy of ease in life; that somehow I deserve things to be hard. At times I’ve even quietly judged others whose life seems easier (even though Im sure they’re not) and padded myself on the back for always taking the hard road (even though I don’t always take the hard road).

But at the bottom of all of this, where the deepest flaw lies, is the performance that’s quietly whispering “You’re not worth much unless you’re working hard.”

And then, in contrast, I think about my 4 children and how much I loved each of them as soon I heard they were on the way. My wife and I couldn’t wait to meet them and when they were born we showered them with love and affection.

We did all of this before they ever did one thing to make us happy. In fact it would be a very long time before they would even be able to do anything “worthy of love”. Just their existence was enough for us to love them.

Their value comes from who they were, not from what they do.

Your value is inherent simply because of who you are.

This Monday morning, lets get to work, not to prove our worth but because of how great our worth already is!

So, totally for you,

Matt