I’ve been working on a framework I can’t quite shake.

It came from a ridiculous scene in Monty Python—but it keeps showing up in real life.
Here’s a first pass at it.

In the world of Monty Python, there lives a character named King of Swamp Castle.

When we first meet him, the king is regaling his soon-to-be-married son with tales of the hard work it took to build their castle.

The king built three previous castles before the fourth one could stand.

Despite his repeated failures, the king persisted.

This persistence leads me to ask: How many of us approach life with this level of determination?

How many of us have the tenacity to keep building in the blind hope that things will eventually work?

Not many.

Most of us stop at the third castle—and for good reason.
We can’t tell if the effort will help us get any closer to our goals.

Who wants to watch their hard work flounder again?

Who can watch yet another dream sink into the swamp and die?

So, let me encourage you.

Keep dreaming.

Keep pushing.

Keep driving.

Yes, you will fail at times.

Yes, you will experience setbacks.

Yes, you will hurt.

However, there is no better way to learn than gut-wrenching failure.

You’ll find clarity.

You’ll find you need to change your approach.

You’ll find a path you never knew existed.

You’ll discover you are more powerful than you ever knew.

Every failure is a foundation.

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I have a feeling this idea isn’t finished yet.
Curious if this resonates—have you ever felt like you were in that “third castle” stage?

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Earlier this morning I was in the emergency room with my dad.

Thankfully, the doctors were able to take care of things. A long four hours — but a good outcome.

Later in the afternoon, after things settled down, I sat down to write.

For the past several months I’ve been stepping more deeply into the role of caregiver for my father, who is living with Lewy body dementia. What I’ve started to realize is that caregiving has quietly become one of the most powerful leadership development experiences of my life.

It has forced me to confront:

• lack of control
• stalled plans
• unpredictable days
• humility
• the discipline of simply staying at your post

None of these show up in most leadership seminars.

But they shape leaders nonetheless.

I wrote a short essay this afternoon reflecting on some of the leadership lessons caregiving is teaching me.

You can read it here:

Leadership Lessons in Caregiving

If you find yourself in a season where life feels stalled, unpredictable, or heavier than expected, you may be receiving a kind of leadership training you never asked for.

— Jason

Leadership Lessons in Caregiving

We are a culture obsessed with checking things off our to-do lists. One industry website claims, “More than 182 million diaries and planners are purchased in the United States annually...” Thousands of self-help books promise help you become successful, fit more into each day, and be more efficient with your time.

When was the last time you did...nothing? I don’t mean waste time with your video game console or mindlessly binge your favorite show. I mean, actually nothing? Taking even 20 minutes to watch the wind play on the surface of a pond can be magic. Sadly, we need an app or a reminder to take these little breaks.

Stretch this a bit further. What if you took one week off? How do you feel then? If you are a typical American, research says you barely had enough time to notice you were off work. It usually takes between 8 and 14 days to recover from chronic stress that is so endemic in our lives.

Push the analogy a bit further. What if you took 6 months off? Or longer? Could you hit the proverbial pause button on all your goals for an entire year? Given our work-obsessed culture, wouldn’t it all start to feel like...failure?

But what if waiting is not the opposite of progress? What if waiting were doing something much deeper — forming you into a different person altogether? If this new version of you outgrew all the goals you used to chase, would it be worth it?

I wrote Remaining out of a season where waiting felt indistinguishable from failure.

Capacity is finite. You have your bucket. I have mine. This isn’t a competition to see who can carry the most. It is about knowing what to do when you are beyond capacity.

“Remaining” speaks to a season I just experienced where I was so far beyond my limit that I had no idea where to turn next. The problems I experienced were so numerous and so frequent that all I could do was absorb the punches.

I bet you’ve lived seasons like this, too.

You may be in one right now.

My hope is that “Remaining” will encourage you by offering language that you’ve never had before.

By naming what we are experiencing, we find we are not alone - and that makes things more bearable all around.

This past week looked like a collapse.
Financial uncertainty hit, my business wobbled, and I found myself staring down job applications while trying to care for my father from a distance.

It felt like the emotional scaffolding I’d built through EMDR was coming undone.

But as the week unfolded, I realized something I would have missed a year ago:
I was actually processing all these setbacks faster than ever.

This entire wave of emotional and spiritual turmoil—something that used to take 4–6 weeks to work through—I moved through in a matter of days.

That’s not collapse — that’s growth.
Real, measurable emotional resilience.

EMDR Didn’t Fail—It Worked Exactly as Designed

Let’s start with the part that surprised me: Losing my largest client didn’t crush me.

In the past, that kind of loss would have triggered:

• emotional flashbacks

• betrayal wounds

• self-hatred

• shame spirals

• anger

• the old “I must be a failure” narrative

But thanks to EMDR, none of that happened (I wrote more about this in EMDR Can Save Your Bacon).

Why?

Because EMDR specializes in healing stuck memories — the old emotional charges that attach past pain to present events.

And it worked.

The client loss hurt… but it didn’t reopen old trauma. It didn’t hijack my identity. It didn’t drag me into the pit.

That alone is a sign of deep emotional healing.

Where the Real Pain Came In: A Current Crisis, Not a Past Wound

The emotional punch this week didn’t come from the past.
It came from the present:

• revenue uncertainty

• the harsh reality of needing temporary work

• the spiritual weight of caring for my father

• the swirl of financial pressure

• the fear of “starting over again”

• the Accuser whispering lies in the middle of it

That part felt heavy.

But here’s the breakthrough I almost missed:

EMDR resolved the old wounds.
I was left facing only the current crisis—which means I was finally dealing with reality, not emotional residue.

There are two types of emotional shock:

1. Stuck memories (old trauma)

EMDR dissolves this.
This is why the client loss didn’t trigger betrayal or shame.

2. Current crises (present pain)

No therapy removes this.
This is simply life happening in real time.

The fact that I could tell these two apart is evidence my emotional health is maturing.

The Real Indicator of Growth: Faster Processing, Stronger Resilience

In the past, a week like this would have leveled me for a month.
You know the drill:

Rumination → paralysis → shame → confusion → emotional exhaustion

Not this time.

Instead, I:

• felt the crisis in real time

• named it honestly

• processed it within days

• stayed spiritually anchored

• stayed relationally present

• bounced back instead of sinking

• regained clarity faster than ever

That is emotional resilience in action.

EMDR didn’t give me a pain-free life.
It gave me a recover-faster life — and that’s the fruit I’m finally seeing.

A Surprise Sign of Calling: What Gave Me Life This Week

Here’s the irony:
The most alive I felt during all this was when I was working on my own ideas — writing, shaping content, building Deep Water Labs, creating this very article.

That wasn’t escapism.
That was evidence.

Evidence that:

• I’m made for influence

• I come alive when I teach

• My calling pulls me forward

• Creativity is oxygen, not distraction

• God keeps pointing me toward the work only I can do

This week didn’t reveal collapse.
It revealed alignment.

The Big Picture: EMDR Didn’t Stop the Storm—It Strengthened the Structure

I used to think emotional healing meant the storms would stop.
Now I see the truth:

Healing means the storms no longer destroy you.

This week required:

• spiritual resilience

• emotional regulation

• honest reflection

• rapid processing

• leaning into God instead of fear

And somehow, all of this happened faster and cleaner than it ever has in my adult life.

Not because everything went well.
But because I’m no longer processing this week through the wounds of last decade.

That’s the real breakthrough.

Reflection Question

Where in your life are you mistaking emotional resilience for collapse simply because you’re processing a current crisis faster than you ever could before?

For almost eight years, I did what most people do when they’re hurting — I went to counseling. Three different counselors, all variations of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy.

CBT helped me think better about my problems, but it never made the problems go away. I was constantly reframing, re-interpreting, and trying to keep my head above water. I could manage the pain, but never stop the noise.

Then I found EMDR — Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing.

With EMDR, something wild happened:
I didn’t have to fight the thoughts anymore.
They simply weren’t there.

It was like the mental replay button finally broke.

For the first time in decades, a setback felt like just one setback — not a summation of every bad experience from the past twenty years. Each event carried only its own weight, and I could breathe again.

That single shift changed everything about how I see healing, work, and recovery.

What I’ll unpack in the full article:

1. Before EMDR – What “managing” trauma really looked like (and why CBT wasn’t enough for me).

2. The EMDR Session – What actually happens in a session — step by step, without the psych jargon.

3. After the Breakthrough – How it felt when the old mental loops finally went silent.

4. Trauma at Work – How career wounds stack up over time — and how EMDR helped separate the past from the present.

5. Faith, Memory, and Mercy – What healing taught me about God, grace, and the mind He gave us.

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Some days, prayer feels like breathing. Other days, it feels like begging for rent money from a friend who’s already done too much for me.

This is the second in a series of articles I am writing on prayer. Namely, how it can start working for you and help you draw you closer to God.

In my first article, I shared how frustrated I was with prayer not working and how I finally turned it around (You can read about it here).

Paul Dazet’s recent piece on A Wounded Healer’s Journal () caught my attention. Where my story wrestled with getting God to show up for me, Paul’s story was about simply showing up for God.

Paul presents an excellent picture of what we should all aspire to — prayer as an act of communion — or spending time with someone simply because you like being with them.

A Wounded Healer’s Journal

For When You’ve Tried Every Way to Pray

I used to think prayer was a formula…

Read more

8 months ago · 11 likes · 2 comments · Paul Dazet, a wounded healer

Oh, if only I could say this about my relationship with God.

I have caught fleeting glimpses of the maturity Paul describes. Yes, usually when all my bills are paid for the month, my daughter’s car is running, and something hasn’t blown up at work.

In the rare times when life is running smoothly, I can step away from my anxieties. In the meantime, I am barely hanging on. Life feels just a bit too much, and I feel “not enough.” I need divine intervention just to make it through most days.

Yes, it would be wonderful to bask in the sweet presence of God, but right now I have an aging father to care for, the wolf of my child’s college tuition at the door, three cars with over 200k miles, and clients who expect me to excel at my job.

And the demands facing me pale in comparison to what some of my readers face.

So, how am I to square Paul’s maturity with my prayerful acts of desperation?

Simple. From what I understand, Paul is a pastor, and pastors shepherd their flock to increasing levels of maturity. This is literally what they do for a living.

He is further along the road than I am, and he’s inviting his readers to consider that there is a deeper relationship available than asking God to fix the flat tires in your life.

His article made me realize we move through phases in our willingness to talk to and trust God.

• Phase 1 - Is this real?

• Phase 2 - If this is real, could you do something for me?

• Phase 3 - Let’s just spend time together.

For those of you in Phase 1, you are at the start of the most adventurous thing you could ever do — have a relationship with God.

If you are in Phase 2 like me, this bus is very wide and has plenty of seats. Keep digging in.

To the lucky ones in Phase 3, keep praying for the rest of us.

Whether you’re questioning, requesting, or simply resting, keep talking to Him. Every phase is still a movement in the right direction.

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Available for Public Speaking

About 12 years ago, I did a LOT of public speaking. I conducted numerous workshops and thoroughly enjoyed them! Recently, I have felt the doors open again.

If you have an upcoming church event or conference and are looking for a speaker, reach out to me. I’d love to hear more.

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I prayed for decades with little to show for it—until I discovered something I’d been missing. 

In my 20s and 30s, I prayed countless times for life to work out the way I wanted. I think I can count on one hand the times praying worked. Or did it? “Maybe it was just a coincidence,” I wondered. 

The sheer volume of my unanswered prayers gave me a deep sense of learned helplessness and caused me to be cynical about my faith. I had no framework for praying that worked. All I had were things like the ACTS model, which felt stiff and too formulaic. I wanted something that had some power behind it, but I had no idea what that would be. 

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In my early 50s, I decided to give prayer another try. I began exploring books on prayer by authors I trusted. The very act of even approaching this topic felt like I was trying to push a boulder with my mind. The resistance was terrible. Yet, I pushed through. 

I found one chapter that spoke to me and offered a model I had not considered in the early days of my faith — persistence. The author asserts you can't just give it one pass and expect it to work, but this is exactly what I had been doing most of my adult life - giving it one pass. 

The author used Elijah’s prayer for rain as an example. Elijah had to pray for rain seven times before he saw results. Ask. Then do it again. Then do it again. Keep asking. 

Before I go any further, I want to acknowledge I am standing on some very tender ground here. I bet each of you has your story about unanswered prayer and the pain it brought. Please understand I am not offering any pat and simple answers here. I can share my story, though. God, in his patience, wanted to show me the next step in my maturity. 

For me, I needed to learn that the prayers of my youth were no longer enough. I needed to learn persistence. Frankly, I didn’t have the patience for this message in my 20s. Now the time was right. Persistence may be the very thing you need. Maybe not. Ask God for clarity. I fully believe he will provide it.

With the “ask and ask again” model before me, I dove in. I prayed for my father’s health, my daughter as she moved through high school, my wife, my business, and many other things. 

I kept going back day after day, praying over and over again for the same things. Because I tend towards the analytical side, I started tracking everything. I wrote down my start time and end time. I tracked what I prayed for and how long I prayed for it. 

I even tracked when I received good news and answers. This practice alone changed my views on prayer. You must write down your answers to prayer. In this age of interruption, do you think you will stand a chance of remembering if you don't?

The crazy thing is that all this persistence worked. For the first time in my life, I started to see my prayers answered. My father's health improved. The bumpy road known as high school smoothed for my daughter. My wife found work in her field. As a writer, I want to bring this experience to you so you can try it for yourself.

This article is the inaugural article in what I call The Prayer Project. It will be a living document, if you will. I am going to give you an inside view of my prayers over the next several months. I am going to use the same persistence model I described above. 

While I may pray for things outside this scope, I will document the following:

• How long I prayed.

• What I prayed for.

• What prayers I said.

• Answers I received.

Again, I found this exercise incredibly helpful, so I want to share it with you in hopes that it strengthens your prayer life as well. 

Before this week is over, choose one thing to pray for daily—and write it down. Track what happens. Then tell us what you see.

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You look around church and see people living their breakthrough.

• One guy lands his dream job three weeks after a layoff.

• A couple finally conceives after years of infertility.

• Another finds the perfect starter home after a long wait.

• Someone’s medical scans come back clean—no explanation.

And then there’s you.

• Things have not gone your way in a while.

• Maybe you had your “God story” some time ago, if you could only remember what it was.

• You have bills that keep piling up.

• Your job (if you are fortunate enough to have only one) leaves a bit to be desired.

In all, you feel like a spectator. Great things are happening for others, but not for you.

Maybe you are truly happy for them. Maybe you are secretly jealous, envying the success of others while more obstacles pile in your way.

It is easy to get disillusioned. Why is God not doing a thing for you?

You search for answers.

• You read that you don’t have enough faith.

• You hear a sermon that says you don’t tithe enough.

• Someone shares how God finally moved when she forgave someone—and you realize you haven’t.

Every answer you find is another way you’ve failed.

In these seasons where you need God to come through, how does He benefit from being silent to your prayers and pleading? Sure, some would say God is trying to make you stronger, but what happens if this strength training breaks you in half?

After months or years of feeling like life is passing you by, things will not get better, and Christianity holds no answers, you begin to wonder if God is real, after all.

What good is believing in God if all He does is sit on the sidelines of your life, not helping you at all?

There is a common sentiment in Christianity that “God will only give you what you can handle.” This hasn’t been my experience. God “gave” me way more than I could handle, drove me beyond the breaking point to where my mind split. I can’t fathom a God who would “give” me this much hardship.

I did, however, find my way back.

I don’t attribute the hardships of the last 20 years to things God inflicted upon me. We live in a broken world, and bad things happen to good people. It rains on the just and the unjust. That is as far as I will take it.

When bad things happen, the Enemy is there constantly putting his spin on things.

I do believe God rescued me, pulled me back from the abyss. He seems to be in that kind of business, after all — rescuing people. He allowed me to see the sizable role the enemy has played in my life and how I can fight it.

I believe this kind of rescue is available for you, too.

You don’t have to live confused and crushed.

You can begin to see where God is growing you, where life is just broken, and where the enemy’s been wreaking havoc.

If that’s what you want—clarity, not clichés—you’re not alone. I’m walking that road too.

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I believe God wants to be in constant conversation with us—and that He still speaks. I think we are all wired, to some degree, to be able to hear His voice. 

I have heard people from all walks of life talk about three main ways He speaks to them — visually, audibly, and through feelings and impressions.

For me, it is mostly feeling. If you walk close to a fireplace, or leave the door to your freezer open too long, there’s no mistaking it. The feelings of hot or cold are clear. When I get an impression from God, it is the same way. There is no mistaking it.

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A few years ago, I was out on the hiking trail getting in my steps before work. I live in the Rocky Mountains, so hiking trails are abundant. This particular trail starts at a parking lot and cuts its way through a moraine — a large mountain meadow — before rising over 1000 feet to a mountain lake. My usual morning routine was walking only the flat part of the trail. The out-and-back hike was just long enough for me to reach my step count goal before work.  

This particular morning, I could see dark clouds coming over the ridge, but I heard no thunder, so I pressed on along the trail. Sure enough, it started to rain.

It didn’t last long, only about 5 minutes. It was a gentle rain accompanied by a subtle breeze. With a burst, the sun came out just behind the clouds providing the rain. Then it happened — a stunning rainbow! 

This beautiful arc of light lasted as long as the rain, but set against the backdrop of 12,000-foot snow-capped peaks, it was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. Again, it was early. I was the only person on this trail. The only person at this place at this time. In an instant, the rainbow was gone.

I am certain I am the only person who saw it that morning. It was like God created that moment for me and me alone — a gift. I was so thankful for the experience, and I could feel God’s presence there on the trail with me. 

If you want to hear my most powerful (and recent) experience, check out When The Veil Got Thin.

When I am reading, it is common for words, sentences, or complete paragraphs to jump off the page to me. I rush to underline them. When a podcast host makes a comment or a pastor preaches on a passage, my insides often jump, “yes!” when God makes the connection.

Now, I want to turn the tables a bit. I want to hear from you. How does God speak to you? For some people, it is through singing, dancing, writing, attending Saturday night service, or taking communion. 

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So I’m asking—how do you hear God? Hit reply and share your story. I’d love to know.

The name has been with me since the early 2000s when I first struck out to build something of my own.

I was looking for a sign. Some type of confirmation from God. I certainly didn’t want to do anything this crazy without His guidance. Then it happened. One day in church, the reading was about the calling of the disciples. Luke 5, if memory serves. The story about the fishermen being out on the water all night and not catching a thing.

As these fishermen, exhausted from their night’s work, come to shore and start cleaning their nets, Jesus invites them to push out from the shore and let their nets down into the deep waters for a catch — the very thing they’ve wanted all night.

In my 20-something zeal, I locked onto the part about the abundant haul — the overwhelming blessing that was surely on its way.

But the years have a way of refining what you notice in Scripture. Now in my early 50s, I clearly see the part where Peter complains, “We’ve worked all night and caught nothing.” Oh, how this sentiment resonates in my life today.

Deep Water Labs’ has become a sort of code name for my journey. I do my utter best to listen for God’s call and then go where he tells me — for better or worse. Push out into deep waters.

This has led me and my family to great adventures, mishaps, and losses. We’ve had a few victories along the way — nothing along the lines of a catch so big that it swamps my boat, though.

When I fail, I go back to figure out what went wrong. In my engineering days, we called this root cause analysis. I try to get better each time I go down a tricky path with God, and, wow, have I learned a thing or two.

I can’t wait to share.

This Substack (blog) contains some of the greatest lessons I’ve learned in my 30+ years of walking (running, stumbling, falling, quitting) with God.

Dive in — the deep water still calls.

I had to attend a hearing this week down at the courthouse. What led me to become entangled in this complex legal situation, and who was involved, is not important. The important part is how I partnered with God throughout and had a great outcome. 

Before we get too deep, let me caution the average reader. If you are not dialed into this kind of thing, you are going to think I am some kind of religious nut job who has gone off the deep end. 

The thing is that I believe there are such things as angels and demons. The evil ones are unleashed on this earth to make your (and my) life terrible. 

I also believe we have a good model to fight them, and I will tell you what I did.

The hearing is for the awarding of damages. My attorney and I already won the first part of the legal battle, where we prevailed against the defending party. Now we are to the part where the judge decides what, if anything, I will receive to make me and my family whole. 

We could get everything. We could get nothing. There is no telling how this will unfold. I could feel my anxiety creeping into overdrive, and I knew I had to take steps to tamp it down. 

I drove down to the courthouse a day early to make sure I was going to the right place and figure out parking. This was my first time going to the big city. My first stab at parking was a fail, so I circled the block a few times. After finding a multi-story parking garage, I circled, paid my fee with a newly downloaded phone app, and started walking toward what I hoped was the courthouse. A few blocks later, I confirmed I was, indeed, in the right place. Now, it is time to switch over to pre-emptive moves. 

I walked around the courthouse, praying the entire time. I asked God to put two angels on the roof and angels at each door. I strictly forbid anything evil to get into the courthouse until my hearing is finished. In a sense, I was claiming territory. I can’t imagine what all happens around a courthouse in the spiritual realm. Seems like it would be a hotbed of all manner of deceit and deception. I didn’t want to take any chances of this hampering my case, so I prayed like crazy. I retreated to my car and made my way home. 

The next day — the day of the hearing — I was up and on the road a little after 8:00. My hearing was not until 2:30 in the afternoon, but I was not taking any chances. I was not going to allow anything — a flat tire, road construction, car problems, nothing — to get in the way of being on time for the hearing. I arrived 4 hours early. 

The building itself is very intimidating. From the moment you enter, you get the feeling you could shoot an old-time gangster movie here. The building was finished in 1932. The architecture is stunning, and it is everything you can imagine when you think of an old courthouse.

Since I arrived so early, I spent a lot of time waiting in the hallway. The atmosphere inside the building was very intimidating. For some reason, the place was very dimly lit. The fluorescent bulbs high overhead were nowhere near strong enough to adequately light the hallway. I guess people in the ‘30s didn’t need as much light to see well. Yet, there was something more to the pall than lighting. It was the sense of, “You are in trouble. This is not going to end well. You should leave while you have the chance.” This feeling hit me after I was 10 feet inside the front door. It was…intimidating.   

I got sucked into it. I started having doubts. I started wondering if I should even be in the building. What was I doing here? How did it come to this? Maybe during this whole legal process, I was just blowing everything out of proportion. The judge is going to call me an idiot. It took me about an hour before I realized what was happening. 

If you are feeling something, perhaps that is the thing fighting you in the spirit realm. I finally snapped out of it and realized, “Hey, I am feeling intimidated here. I bet it's a spirit of intimidation — some gargoyle clinging to the floor-to-ceiling marble columns and taking verbal pot shots at every passerby. 

I spent all of 3 minutes praying against the spirit of intimidation. Guess what? 

The whole countenance of the hallway changed. The fluorescents weren’t any brighter, but the hallway felt lighter in every regard. It didn’t feel so oppressive. I stopped feeling the urge to walk out of the building. Instead, I felt a renewed sense of determination. “Wait! This my day in court! No force on this planet is going to take this away from me.” It felt great. 

The clerk for the courtroom assigned to my case had mercy on me and invited me inside about half an hour before my hearing started. This is exactly what I wanted — to be inside the courtroom. I wanted to scope out the lay of the land, just like finding parking the day before. I wanted to feel the room, drink in every last crevice, so I could become comfortable. I felt my confidence begin to rise when the most amazing thing started to happen.

For 25 minutes, I was the only person in that courtroom. But I swear to you that the entire back half of the room was filled with a holy presence. It was like there were dozens, if not hundreds, of other individuals in the room with me. And in my heart, I not only felt their presence, but I could hear them cheering. It was like I was at a football game. 

I’ve never experienced anything like this in my life. 

I was so ready for the hearing to start that I could hardly bear it. No matter what the outcome, I was ready to get started. I pulled out all my notes from months and months of waiting, and I set out all the exhibits I had prepared. I had reviewed all the prep work my attorney sent. I had the wind at my back and a host of angels at my side. I was ready for battle. 

The hearing was over in a flash. It barely lasted 20 minutes. Five of those minutes passed in dead silence as the judge looked over several exhibits I passed to him through the bailiff. While the judge acknowledged me at the start, he spent most of the time covering procedural matters with my well-prepared attorney. 

The judgment was issued in my favor. We won everything we requested, including damages, interest, and legal fees.

My attorney said she had never seen anything quite like it. “He never even asked you any questions,” she said in bewilderment. Jokingly, she added, “I think he took a look at all the other exhibits you prepared and decided he didn’t want to be there for another 2 hours.”

It was a landslide win. That much is certain, and I think a great deal of that victory came in the spiritual realm before the hearing even started. 

I drove home that afternoon, stunned at what had just happened. Lots of prayer. Angels? A heavenly host in the courtroom? A massive win. Wait, did my prayers actually work? Will we ever collect? It was far too much to process. 

I made it through months of prep. Months of documenting things from every angle. Months of creating a timeline and reconstructing what happened in minute detail, down to the last email. I had made it through the trial phase. I prayed like crazy. I just survived the hearing where I was awarded damages far above my expectations. I drove nearly 2 hours home. I had cooked dinner for my family. Right there in the middle of reheating my plate, I realized it was finally over. I had nothing left. I was in bed by 7:00 that night and slept 12 hours.  

I’ve spent years praying for things that never happened—so many unanswered prayers that I nearly gave up on faith altogether. But today was different. The veil between worlds felt thin, as they say. And here’s the real win: I’ll never doubt my faith again. Not for a moment.

“Is this like your memory from kickball?”

“Oh, you mean when I declared myself ‘all-time third’?”, I replied.

I had shared this story with my counselor a few weeks earlier. We were working on some deep issues when it surfaced from the recesses of my mind -- a memory I had from fourth grade.

Every day at recess, a huge group of us would run full speed to the far back corner of the playground where a kickball diamond was painted onto the asphalt. We had all the bases, home plate, and even the pitcher's “mound”.

In 30 seconds, we’d divide up into teams, and the first team was up to kick. From somewhere, the gym gods would bless us with one of those perfect red rubber playground balls, and we were ready to go.

Once your team gets up to kick, the next phase is choosing the lineup. You need to understand how important this is. Your position in the lineup was not trivial — this was a statement of where you fit in the Cook Elementary School pecking order.

Being first was a big deal. Even going second was pretty respectable. No one wanted to go last. A kid would rather sit out the game than go last. When it was our team’s turn to kick, we’d end up with the usual debate over who went first and second. The rest of us fell in behind.

Sean Seay and Gene Childs were amazing kickball players. Sean was big and tall. Who else should go first but the biggest and tallest kid? Gene was not quite as tall as Sean, but a phenomenal kicker in his own right. So, every day it seemed Gene and Sean fell into a pitched battle for calling “first.” Occasionally, I would join in the fray. I earned second a few times, but that didn’t happen often.

One day in the fall, I had an epiphany. Why go through all the trouble of this daily battle of competing for my order in the lineup? I would just declare myself “all-time third” to settle my spot once and for all.

(Maybe I was a blue-ocean thinker before my time.)

Sure, I like going first as much as the next kid, but third felt like a good compromise. I shared this with Gene and Sean. In all of 10 seconds, the matter was settled — I was officially third in the kickball lineup until the end of time.

Fast forward a few decades. My counselor was digging deep. I had just admitted that I still felt greatness in me—something bigger, something called. And I also confessed how afraid I am to chase it. I have a long history of leaping for the brass ring, taking a big risk, and failing miserably. The kind of failure that leaves a scar. Not just on your resume—but on your soul. Even now, as I write this, I still believe God gave me my skills and talents for a reason.

But failure is hard. One failure is bad. Repeated failure is debilitating. After so many losses, I started doubting. I am tired of the pain, and I am tired of the psychological toll. I find myself sharing all this with my counselor.

All-time third. Maybe that was fine for grade school, but how much of this have I carried into my adult years?

Some people need to win. Sure, I like winning. I like coming in first. Who doesn’t? But, I don’t need to win the way some others do. Winning is not the core of my identity, and I thank heaven for this.

But this is not about my identity. This is about me playing small when something larger is being called out of me. This is what my counselor was really addressing, and her question was like a dagger to my heart.

I am holding back -- pulling my punches. I know this. But why? Simple. I have been injured more times than I can tell you. I have taken risks and fallen on my face so many times. I am holding back because I am afraid. I touched the hot stove of failure too many times.

I am torn down the middle. On one hand, I’ve built something meaningful—a boutique marketing firm I genuinely enjoy. I love the clients I serve. That work has been a calling of its own.

But there’s another voice. A calling I once pursued and couldn’t quite hold onto. Brief flashes of success. Long seasons of disappointment. Eventually, I put it down. Packed it away. Moved on.

But it’s back. More than a decade later, it’s still calling out to me.

I am like a plane barreling down the runway -- the concrete only goes so far. If I am going to survive, I need to take off soon — as in — immediately.

Only, I am afraid of flying.

Maybe you’ve played it safe for a long time. Maybe your calling still whispers when things get quiet.

If any of this resonates, I’d love to hear from you.

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It’s taken me a long time to write this—mostly because I was embarrassed by how naive I was. But if we’re going to talk about hearing from God, I need to be honest about how it all started.

I was in my early 30’s and desperately wanted to start my own business. I had been dancing around this issue for quite some time. My dad had a business when he was my age. My uncle had started a business. My grandfather even had a successful restaurant back in his time. 

It seemed I was destined to have my own thing. 

Several problems, though. 

1. I had no idea what I wanted to do. 

2. I wasn’t rolling in money. 

Not exactly a formula for whopping success.

I was deeply frustrated with my career. I had a great thing going right out of college. An engineering job. Promoted to management at a very young age. What I didn’t know at the time is that this company had about 4 years before its expiration date. Again, in my eagerness, I decided this pond wasn’t big enough, so I left for a larger company.  The new company (let’s call it company B) was great and many people spent their entire careers here, but I felt like a fish out of water. It didn’t take long for me to realize coming here was a mistake, but, in retrospect, there wasn’t much of a future in staying at my old company.

In leaving company A and going to company B, I followed what I call the “open door” answer to prayer. If God opened the door, well, that must be an answer to my prayer. 

Looking back, I put way too much stock in my “open door” theology—as if every job offer was automatically God’s will. But I didn’t know that yet. I was just trying to make the best decision I could with the tools I had.

So, I prayed God would open a door, He did, and I walked through it. Jobs weren’t easy to come by. Simply receiving a job offer from Company B was proof enough that God was in this. 

Now, here I am almost 3 years later. I’ve been miserable in the larger company — the very opportunity I asked God to give me — and I was looking for my next gig. I didn’t quite know how to interpret what had happened.

In Company A, I was well-liked by management, given opportunities, and recognized. It was great. None of that existed here at Company B. Where did I go wrong? I asked for this. God gave it to me. My career was in a tailspin, though. I could not make sense of it, but I knew I didn’t want to repeat my mistakes on this next jump. This next move had to work because I needed to make up for a lot of lost time.  

This time things were going to be different. Being self-employed means I get to call the shots. I get to decide who I work with, when I am going to work, and how much I am going to make. Being self-employed means everything is going to be better.

If you aren’t rolling your eyes at my 30-something cluelessness, feel free.

I knew leaving a perfectly good job to be self-employed was a huge jump, and I needed God’s provision for things to work. I started praying like I had never prayed before. I started seeking advice from people I trusted. I read books on starting a business. I took all this very seriously. I was praying hard, obsessing over details, and trying not to repeat my mistakes. I desperately needed God to speak, and the answer finally came.

My wife and I were sitting in church one Sunday when the pastor spoke words that hit me like a ton of bricks. It was one of those moments — maybe you’ve had them, too — when it feels like it was written just for you. Well, I had one of those moments, and it felt like God was speaking directly to me. 

Several weeks before this moment, a family member came to me and my wife with an opportunity. It would pave the way for me to own my own business. It would require selling our existing home and relocating. My wife would need to leave her job and find a new one, which is a lot to ask of a spouse. I would need to leave my corporate job with good pay and generous benefits for a significant pay cut and no guarantees whatsoever. 

When I sat through the service where God spoke to me through the pastor, I knew I had received my answer. God was giving this venture his blessing. Leaving my job was the right thing to do. Making the move was the right thing to do. Everything was going to work out.

In the evangelical circles, I traveled in those days, there were a ton of stories about people “believing in God for a miracle.” I heard stories in church and from pastors on the radio. It seemed you couldn’t go anywhere without hearing that believing in God’s provision was the path to making everything work in your life. Take risk. Lean on God. He’s there for you. I longed to have this kind of faith. I wanted to have my miracle. Not only for me but for my wife and family, should we choose to start one. 

It was finally happening to me. I get to be the one receiving a miracle. God heard me. God is rescuing me from a difficult work environment. God is giving me the dream I had prayed to receive. It was my time. We listed our house for sale, my wife and I gave our 2-weeks notice, and we started packing boxes. 

Of course, you know what happens next — everything went sideways. I’ll save the rest of the story for another time, but let me cut to the chase.

In praying for God’s provision and receiving his approval, I had this naive idea that…

• Following God’s call would lead to good things. 

• My calling would actually work and bear fruit.

• My life would improve.

• I would feel closer to God.

• I would make more money.

Here’s what I have learned since, and believe me when I say I have come by these lessons through the school of hard knocks. When following God and His call on your life…

• All hell will come for you the moment you step toward your calling.

• You probably won’t get it right the first few tries.

• Following God doesn’t guarantee clarity, comfort, or cash flow.

I will try my best to weave these lessons into all my future writings here on this blog. I’ve learned a ton, and I am eager to share it. 

I have many more stories to tell—stories of the fallout, the slow rebuilding, and how God showed up in ways I never expected. I hope you’ll stick around for all of it.

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If you have read this far, chances are pretty good that you’ve also had some false starts with God. I’d love for you to reach out to me with your stories. I can’t wait to hear them. 

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You have no idea how happy I am that you are reading this. 

I’ve been waiting for years. 

I can’t tell you how many times I started to create something — a blog, a podcast, a YouTube channel, a workshop, a business — and the whole thing just fell apart. 

In my early days, I tried to hear God’s guidance as best as I knew how. I’d take a step of faith with full expectation that God would meet me. 

But it would fail every single time. 

Then I’d get another idea, pray about it, and feel out the situation. Again, it felt like God was with me. I felt encouraged. I felt — dare I say it — confirmation. 

This attempt was sure to work.

Only it didn’t.

After a while, this amount of continued failure starts to wear on a person. 

I started going through all the typical emotional turmoil. Doubt. Anger. Frustration. Loss of heart. Self-hatred. 

“Am I just making up all this in my head?”

“Am I just telling myself what I want to hear?”

After a long period of feeling defeated, I decided to give things another try. 

This time, I didn’t stack all my eggs in one basket. I didn’t place this attempt as an all-or-nothing venture. If this doesn’t work, it doesn’t mean God does not exist. 

I’ve been taking very small steps—and for once, I haven’t been so emotionally entangled in the outcome.

First step — I just created an empty Substack account. It didn’t take long. I didn’t try to fit 327 steps into one day. I just did one thing. 

Second step — I wrote a short introductory article. A few hundred words, tops. Done. It is not a masterpiece. I didn’t need to get it perfect this time. I wasn’t concentrating on my “personal brand.” Instead, I just wrote because I knew it was one more brick in this new house. 

Third step — I did more setup work. I went behind the scenes and wrote a short bio for my profile. I found a picture that was good enough. I poked around the platform to see what else it had to offer. 

Let me emphasize again, these are small steps. I’d spend less than an hour on this each time. Often a few days would go by before I’d come back to it. 

Then I took another step. 

And then another. 

Gradual progress. 

Not in a straight line, but generally forward. 

About a month ago I started inviting people to subscribe and join in for the ride. 

To my utter astonishment, over 100 people have joined, so far. 

Do you know how many times I created a blog article no one read? Do you know how many videos on my old YouTube channels have 3 views or old podcast episodes with only 6 downloads?

Lots. 

When I open my stats and see a few more subscribers than yesterday—and a total now over 100—I’m honestly dumbfounded.

Slack-jawed.

Blown away. 

I don’t quite know what to make of it. 

I am not used to things like this working for me. 

Sure, they work for other people — they have magic powers. 

But for me? 

I figured I’d be doing great if I ended the year with a couple dozen subscribers.

So… what are You up to here, God?

If you’ve ever been in a long season of delay, I want you to know—you’re not alone. I’d love to hear what you're stepping into now, even if it’s one tiny brick at a time.

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I’d be honored if you’d join me as I continue discerning what God has for me.

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I need to write a 3-part series on rest. Perhaps I should just cut to the chase and write an entire book on the subject.

Time for a confession: I am not good at resting. Not good at all.

There is part of me that wants to be in a constant state of motion. I’ve had to dig deep to find out why. I naturally love movement. Yet, there’s another part of me that derives a sense of validation from all this activity.

If I am this busy, I must be accomplishing things, right?

However, when I flip this Jason-is-in-perpetual-motion coin to the other side, I find myself in a constant state of exhaustion as well.

There simply must be a better way to live than working 60 or more hours every week.

John Mark Comer’s The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry appeared to me like a beacon on the horizon. It showed me that there is a better way to live, a slower and more contemplative pace.

When I pared this book with Greg McKeown’s Essentialism, I started thinking very differently about my life and business.

Keep in mind, what these authors propose is not easy to put into action. “There is a narrow path and few will find it,” as the saying goes.

Life gets in the way.

A lot.

Cars need unexpected repairs, tires go flat, and family members need glasses, contacts, and braces.

Pulling back from a busy pace of work sounds great. Shifting to a lower gear for a few days would feel like a vacation, but financial pressures push us back into the ring.

Now we arrive at the divine tension — the life we want to live versus the life that pays the bills.

How can we claim back even a little sanity?

• Not looking at email today.

• Turning off your phone for a few hours.

• Saying “no” to invitations to belong to groups or committees.

Keep in mind, I am not sharing anything new. You’ve heard suggestions like these before. The big question is why do we keep ignoring advice like this?

Asking you to turn off your phone for a bit is about as appealing as flossing. Sure, it sounds good, but good for someone else. “I can't possibly turn my phone off. What about my friends, spouse, or the kids? What if they need me?”

And there's the tension.

The life we want (ease, rest, recovery), the life that demands our time (bills and obligations), and the life we can't let go (perceived needs).

I will explore the intersection of these three areas in the next few articles.

In the meantime, it is Sunday. Turn off your computer, grab a book, or just do nothing for a bit.

Get some rest.

If something here stuck a chord with you, please feel free to leave a comment.

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It is funny how age tends to mellow one’s enthusiasm.

A pastor once said, “We start by praying, ‘God, help me change the world.’ Then ‘God, help me change this country.’ Then ‘God, help me change this city.’ Then ‘God, help me change this church.’ Then ‘God, help me change myself.’”

This has been my trajectory as well. My ambitions get smaller with each passing year. Having long since given up changing the entire world, I find myself at the stage of needing to change myself. 

While contemplating the next decade of my life, I wonder if there is still a place for me to make a difference in people’s lives and live out my part of the Great Commission.

On Most Days I am a Painful Introvert

I have a confession — I am not a people person. 

Don’t get me wrong. I love working with my clients. We have a focus. We are on a mission to build their business. This is easy. 

However, I am far from a conversationalist. I probably won’t remember your dog’s name. Unless I write it down, I won’t remember your kids' names, either. Right or wrong, I am just not wired that way. 

I live next door to a church and attend the men's group. These guys have invited me to the church fellowship luncheon that happens once a month. I simply can’t bring myself to attend. I would be a fish out of water, sitting at a table by myself, or making painful small talk with a person I don’t know. Not my idea of an enjoyable time. 

But, isn’t the church all about being with and around people? All of us living in community with one another? If so, I am poorly equipped for this.

Can God still use me?

I ran a quick search on “Top 10 Models of Leadership in Church” and found this intriguing list.

1. Servant Leadership

2. Transformational Leadership

3. Collaborative Leadership

4. Authentic Leadership

5. Spiritual Leadership

6. Visionary Leadership

7. Coaching Leadership

8. Team Leadership

9. Shepherd Leadership

10. Missional Leadership

As I read through the deeper descriptions of each type, I could see myself in several categories. 

For example, one of the descriptions for Servant Leadership is “commitment to the growth of others.”  Yes! That’s me!

For Collaborative Leadership, I see listed, “Emphasizing shared decision-making, teamwork, and inclusivity…” Yes! This is the very approach I took when working with a recent startup company. When done well, it can be a powerful force inside a company.

And in the Spiritual Leadership description, I see, “…prioritizing prayer, spiritual discernment, and reliance on God’s wisdom.” Again, yes!

I found this exercise very helpful and affirming. It seems there is plenty of room for me. Did I receive all the answers I needed in 5 minutes? No. Do I feel better about my place in the world? An absolute yes.

I encourage you to do an exercise like this yourself. Try one of these prompts in your favorite search engine:

• Can God still use me?

• I feel pigeonholed in my church. What can I do?

• Is it too late for God to use me?

• Do I have to be a missionary to serve the church?

• What are 5 non-traditional ways God can use me?

Yes, these are very deep pools to swim, so give yourself the gift of time. Dig into what the results tell you. Read a few blog entries. Mull them over for a few days. 

Please leave us a few comments on what you find. 

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More Articles in my Substack

• Welcome to My Substack

• How I Got Here

• Creativity & Opposition

• 5 Signs You’re Hearing from God—Even When It Doesn’t Feel Like It

• Guard Your Heart: The Emotional Toll of Building Something That Matters

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Starting your own thing can be an emotional rollercoaster. Your online store, a restaurant, a book, a blog, your signing career. It is so personal. It is some of the best work you’ll ever do. You will feel alive and more engaged in the work than anything else you’ve ever pursued. When the crowds respond with glowing reviews, it proves you’ve found your place on this good earth. 

About a year ago, I helped a new restaurant get off the ground. We did a lot of marketing for it and held a big kickoff. We posted several times on social media to build anticipation for the event. It was so rewarding to see the reviews start to filter in. While people loved the atmosphere and vibe of the restaurant, they raved about the food! The team was in 7th heaven. 

Now, let’s talk about the other side of the coin. You can put every fiber of your being into a project, something you feel God calls you to do, and get nothing. Total crickets. No great reviews, no throngs of adoring fans, no visitors to your store, and no sales. 

This is gut-wrenching stuff. The rejections feel so…personal. As if you are being shunned by the general public. It feels like they are all in on it and have agreed to boycott your entire life. This is how I felt in one of my early ventures. I put my heart into it — felt called by God, in fact — only to fall on my face. 

A few years later, I noticed the strangest thing. I left the failed venture and pivoted over to financial planning. I experienced tons of rejection here, but this was different. People weren’t rejecting me, per se. They just had no use for a financial planner. They were rejecting a company, not me. I didn’t come up with any of the products they would purchase. All that work was done at the home office. My job was simple — to sell. 

In this new role, any rejections I received were not an indictment of my identity. In fact, it had little to do with me at all. This made it easier for me to do the job. It was almost like being bulletproof. To my great surprise, I did well enough to qualify for several sales awards and a trip! I could hardly believe it. Only 3 years earlier, I could barely pull myself out of bed to face another day of rejection. Now my wife and I are sitting on a plane bound for an all-expense paid vacation with great entertainment. 

What lesson are we to take away from this? When you are doing it for yourself, things are going to feel so much more personal. You will have a lot of your identity wrapped into it. The highs will be higher and the lows will be lower. You have to know this going in, or it will be too hard to process in the moment. 

The key takeaway is this: guard your heart.

This goes for church planters, entrepreneurs, crafters, store owners, musicians, and anyone who wears their heart on their sleeve. 

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Sign #1: You Had Peace, Not Pressure

That decision wasn’t driven by fear, FOMO, or the need to please others. It was a “still small voice” moment—and you just knew. That peace may not last forever, but it was there when it counted.

Sign #2: The Timing Wasn’t Yours

You didn’t kick down the door. It opened on its own. Circumstances aligned in a way that felt more divine than strategic.

Sign #3: Resistance Showed Up

Not every obstacle is demonic, but real spiritual resistance often confirms God’s hand is on your direction. The enemy doesn’t attack what isn’t a threat.

Sign #4: You Grew Even When You Lost

Maybe the mission failed, but your character deepened. You learned. You wrestled with God. That’s fruit, even if it didn’t look like success.

Sign #5: You're Still Here, Still Asking

The fact that you’re still seeking Him? That’s a sign. Don’t discount the quiet strength it takes just to stay in the conversation.

Please leave a comment if this brief article struck a chord with you.

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Yesterday, I wrote the first real post on my new platform, where I hope to cover some really deep issues, and man, was it hard. Leading up to this, I had made mental notes of several articles I wanted to write. In my mind, I had this endless stream of things I wanted to say. However, yesterday I could not wrap my mind around a coherent thought when faced with the prospect of a blank page. I couldn’t string two sentences together. It was miserable. It felt like I was carving the article out of stone. 

So, what causes the blocks? Is it me? Too much emotion? Too much to say, and I don’t know where to start? Maybe. It also felt like something actively opposed me—a living and intentional roadblock. This isn’t the first time I’ve experienced this feeling.

Making Great Plans

It happened last year, and I could not see it until I was 8 weeks in the hole. I had this big mid-year strategy session where I set a new direction for where I wanted to take the company. I wanted to get a podcast up and running. I said I wanted to make another stab at email marketing. I had it all planned out. To make it official, I wrote everything on one of those giant easel-size sticky notes and put it on the wall. I wrote the date on the top - July 14. These plans didn’t last 24 hours.

Interruption 1

A buddy of mine pops into the office with some great news. Turns out the guy we’ve done business with in the past wants our help to launch a new business, and he already has funding. Lots of funding! “Can we all meet at your office tomorrow?” I couldn’t believe my luck. All these years of networking, paying my dues, and hitting my delivery dates were about to pay off. It turned into a multi-month disaster that I will write about some other time. 

When I extracted myself from the mess and came up for air, I could not believe the timing of my great planning session and the even greater interruption. The timing seems to be too ironic to be a mere coincidence.

A Second Try with Great Intentions

The great interruption happened again at the start of this year. New year. New goals. More focus. I put starting a new podcast on the list of new things I wanted to tackle. I also wanted to start writing more. I think I have about 11 days of written entries in my journal. Some days were better than others. I wrote each night after work while sitting at the bowling alley (long story). In all, I wrote about 4000 words. Not a bad start, but that’s where it ended. That was four months ago. I stopped writing, and the podcast never got off the ground. Instead, all my energy went into the strangest client engagement I have ever worked. 

Interruption 2

I found myself wrapped up in a website project that was the largest project management debacle in my career. The scope just kept expanding and expanding. We also had tech issues. Strange things. Explainable, but still strange. I’ve been developing websites for 20 years and never had anything happen like this. Ever. Sure, there are plenty of things I would have done differently. I should have known better than to allow the scope to creep and creep. Project Management 101 says I should have kept this under control. Now that the project is over, I can reclaim my evenings and weekends. I am getting some much-needed perspective. 

Sense Making

What in the world just happened? I had all these great plans for the year. I made a few steps forward, got sucked into a time vacuum, and now we’re almost 6 months into the year. Why is it that every time I get close to writing, public speaking, or podcasting, something in my professional life blows up? This isn’t limited to the past 6 months. I could tell you 20 years of stories like this. Is it all just a coincidence?  Time management experts call this “the whirlwind,” where all your good intentions go to die. Do I throw all my false starts into the “life happens” bucket and move on, or is something deeper happening here?

What about you? When you make a move toward life, calling, a better job, or a more fulfilling role, are you able to make the move with ease? Instead, does it feel like there is some force set against you?