My brother-in-law’s car suffered some catastrophic failures this week.

Emergency repairs. The kind that don’t wait. The kind that don’t care what’s in your budget. I got a text from him explaining the situation, and underneath the practical message, I could feel the panic. He didn’t know how he was going to cover it.

The old version of me would have said something supportive and moved on with my day. Maybe sent a prayer hand emoji. Felt a little guilty. Hoped it would work out for him. That version of me is dead.

What came out of me instead was this: Bro, we’ve got you. We know what it’s like to be in a tough season and we have a little extra. If you need it to pay for repairs, consider it yours.

I’ll be honest with you. Part of me doesn’t entirely buy into whether this was the right thing for him or his development. There’s a real conversation about whether covering someone’s emergency teaches them something or robs them of something. I know that conversation. I’ve had it about other people.

But I did it anyway.

Not because I had it figured out. Because the version of me that’s been forming for years over walks and prayers and quiet decisions about who I was becoming finally had an opportunity to show up out loud. And when it did, there wasn’t really a debate. There was just the man I’d been training to be doing the next obvious thing.

Galatians 6:2 says, carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. That’s the verse I sent him. Not as a sermon. As a frame. To let him know that this wasn’t charity. It was a brother doing what a brother does. And the law of Christ doesn’t ask for an audit on whether the recipient deserves the help. It asks whether you’re the kind of man who shows up.

I think about Four Pillars of a Man’s Heart a lot. The four roles every man is called to fill — king, warrior, mentor, friend. In that one moment, all four were active. The king provided. The warrior protected the family from a deeper crisis. The mentor modeled what stewardship actually looks like. The friend showed up before being asked twice.

That’s what play the man means. Not in some loud, performative sense. Quietly. With your hand on the wheel and your head down, doing what was already prepared in you long before the moment arrived.

The version of me that did this wasn’t built in this moment. It was built over years of pruning the version of me that wouldn’t have. Years of identity work. Years of assignment. Years of saying yes to the slow, unflashy formation that nobody applauds at the time but eventually shows up when it matters.

What I keep coming back to: the man you become in private is the man who shows up in public when someone needs him.

You don’t get to be one version in the dark and a different version in the light. The one you’re cultivating quietly is the one that comes out of you under pressure. That’s not optional. That’s mechanics. That’s how it works.

And when that version shows up the way it’s supposed to, you don’t post about it. You don’t make it a moment. You let the right hand not know what the left is doing, and you trust that the only audience worth performing for already saw it.

That’s where my heart is today. Quietly grateful. Quietly stewarding. Quietly trusting that the same God who provided what we needed to give will provide what we need to keep going.

Because He always has.

Because that’s who He is.

And because, slowly, that’s who I’m becoming too.

Scripture to sit with:

• Galatians 6:2 — “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ”

• Matthew 6:3-4 — “When you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing”

• 2 Corinthians 9:7 — “Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give… for God loves a cheerful giver”

• Proverbs 3:27 — “Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to act”

This week I’m focusing on:

The man I'm becoming in private. Trusting that the formation nobody sees today is what gets called on tomorrow. Showing up in small ways now so the right version of me is ready when the moment actually matters.

Recommendations:

• Book: Four Pillars of a Man’s Heart by Stu Weber. We talked about this a few weeks back and I first got introduced to it over a decade ago. Regardless of the season, this book is a great read that helped discern between being a king, warrior, mentor, or friend.

• Book: Tribes by Seth Godin. Encourages to step up and lead, emphasizing that leadership is accessible to anyone with a desire to make a change

• Devotional: The Kingdon Man by Tony Evan. This was a quick and actionable guide. It helps focus time and attention.
  
  See you next week? Let me know if anything.

Reply if you want prayer or ask me anything.

Prayerfully,

EA

I keep going back to Genesis.

Not because I’m trying to be deep. Because that’s where I get grounded when everything else is trying to pull me sideways. The verse that anchors me is the one most people skim past: Let us make man in our image, in our likeness.That’s the origin story. That’s where my identity actually starts. Not in what I’ve accomplished. Not in what I’ve failed at. Not in the version of me other people are reflecting back. In whose image I was made.

When I forget that, everything gets harder.

I find myself trying to forgive in my own strength. Trying to lead my family with willpower. Trying to respond differently to the same triggers using the same tools that have been failing me for years. And every time, the question comes up: how? How do I do this? How do I become the version of myself I keep saying I want to be?

The answer is the part I had to learn the hard way.

You don’t.

He does. Through you.

That’s not a slogan. That’s the actual mechanic. When I’m grounded in being made in His image, I have access to capacity and capability I don’t have on my own. The patience isn’t mine. The grace isn’t mine. The strength to stay calm when I’d normally explode isn’t mine. It flows from the identity I’m rooted in, not from the effort I’m generating.

But here’s where the second piece becomes critical.

In Genesis 2, before anything goes wrong — before the fall, before sin, before any of the brokenness we still feel today — God gives Adam an assignment. Work the garden and take care of it. The assignment was built into the design. It wasn’t punishment for failure. It was part of being made in His image. Identity and assignment together. Not one or the other.

I think that’s what the generation behind us is missing. And honestly, it’s what a lot of men our age have lost too.

We sit around tables talking about how kids today are ten years behind. No aspirations. No drive. No urgency. And we’re right about the symptoms. But I don’t think it’s a discipline problem. I think it’s an identity problem with no assignment to anchor it.

Without an assignment, identity drifts.

You grow complacent because nothing’s pulling you forward. You grow confused because every voice around you sounds equally valid. You grow conformed because the path of least resistance is the one the world is already paving for you. None of that happens because someone is broken. It happens because someone has nothing pulling them out of bed in the morning that’s bigger than themselves.

And it’s not just kids. I’ve felt that drift in my own life. The moments when I’ve coasted. The seasons when I’ve gone through the motions. The weeks when I couldn’t tell you what I was actually building or who I was building it for. Every one of those seasons traced back to the same root: I’d lost touch with my assignment, so my identity quietly started slipping with it.

Here’s what I’ve come to: the assignment doesn’t have to be massive. Adam wasn’t asked to do anything spectacular. He was asked to tend what was in front of him. To care for it. To name what needed naming. The point wasn’t the scale. The point was the orientation. Having something specific to do that aligned with who he was made to be.

That’s what keeps a man from drifting.

Identity tells you who you are. Assignment is what reminds you when the noise gets loud.

If you’ve been feeling lost, complacent, easily pulled in directions you didn’t choose, the fix probably isn’t more willpower. It’s slowing down long enough to remember whose image you were made in. And then asking the honest question: what’s the assignment that’s mine to tend in this season?

That’s where the drift stops.

That’s where the man starts being formed again.

Scripture to sit with:

• Genesis 1:26-27 — “Let us make man in our image, in our likeness”

• Genesis 2:15 — “The LORD God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it”

• Ephesians 2:10 — “We are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do”

• Romans 12:2 — “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind”

This week I’m focusing on:

Naming the assignment I've been drifting from. Not adding more to my plate. Returning to what was already mine to tend. Trusting that the capacity I need flows from the identity I'm rooted in.

Recommendations:

• Book: The Purpose Driven Life by Rick Warren. The booklet that started the road. If the alien feeling is familiar, start here​.

• Book: Four Pillars of a Man’s Heart by Stu Weber. We talked about this a few weeks back and I first got introduced to it over a decade ago. Regardless of the season, this book is a great read that helped discern between being a king, warrior, mentor, or friend.

• Devotional: The Kingdon Man by Tony Evan. This was a quick and actionable guide. It helps focus time and attention.
  
  See you next week? Let me know if anything.

Reply if you want prayer or ask me anything.

Prayerfully,

EA

My son was born and I wasn’t ready.

Not in the way people usually mean when they say that. I had a job. A roof. A plan, of sorts. What I didn’t have was the version of myself that the moment actually required. I was carrying a man’s responsibility with a child’s wiring underneath it.

I said yes to things without thinking about what they’d cost. I made decisions based on what I didn’t want to miss out on. I treated my body like it would always bounce back. I treated time like it was infinite. I had a child’s mindset, a child’s habits, a child’s ambition, and now I had a child of my own. The math didn’t work.

1 Corinthians 13:11 says: when I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me.

I had to read that one slowly. Because the gap between knowing the verse and living it is the whole essay.

What started the actual change was the question from Rick Warren’s book. What on Earth am I here for. That’s what cracked it open. Not a sermon. Not a crisis. A question I couldn’t stop carrying. Because somewhere in the asking, I realized I’d been answering it with someone else’s answers; or worse, with no answer at all.

The pruning started small.

Inputs first. I cut the news. Cut the noise. Started a reading list. Got intentional about what was filling the space between my ears because I figured out that whatever I let in was eventually going to come out in how I led my home.

Then health. I’d lost something in the shift from school to workforce. The version of me that knew how to move, how to take care of his body, how to wake up with purpose; that guy had quietly disappeared. I started waking up earlier. Walking. Making better decisions about what I ate. Not because I cared about a number on a scale. Because I cared about being the kind of man my son could lean on for a long time.

Then relationships. Then music. Then environments. Then the way I spent attention.

Every pruning cost me something. Conversations got shorter with certain people. Some albums I grew up on didn’t make it into the next season. Places I used to go stopped feeling like places I belonged. There was a real grief in some of it. Not because what I was cutting off was bad. Because it was familiar. And familiar is hard to let go of even when it isn’t serving you.

What I learned through all of it is that pruning isn’t punishment. It’s preparation.

John 15:2 says the branches that bear fruit get pruned so they can bear more. That’s not God removing what’s broken. That’s God making room for what’s coming. The fruit you’re going to grow in this next season can’t grow on the branches that carried you here. The version of you that got you to this moment isn’t always the version of you that can carry what’s next.

That’s the part nobody warns you about. You don’t get pruned because you’re failing. You get pruned because something is about to bloom.

The child in me had to be cut off so the father could grow. That cutting didn’t happen once. It happened over years, one branch at a time, every time I came to a decision and realized the version of me that wanted to choose the easy thing was the version that needed to go.

Whatever season you’re standing in, this question is worth asking honestly:

What’s the version of me that’s holding me back from what’s actually trying to bloom?

That’s the branch.

That’s the work.

That’s where it starts.

Scripture to sit with:

• John 15:1-2 — “He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit; every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful”

• 1 Corinthians 13:11 — “When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me”

• Ephesians 4:22-24 — “Put off your old self… and put on the new self, created to be like God”

• Romans 12:2 — “Be transformed by the renewing of your mind”

This week I’m focusing on:

The version of myself that’s still showing up out of habit but isn’t carrying me into what’s next. Naming it. Letting it go. Trusting that what’s pruned makes room for what’s planted.

Recommendations:

• Book: The Purpose Driven Life by Rick Warren. The booklet that started the road. If the alien feeling is familiar, start here​.

• Book: Atomic Habits by James Clear. Secular, sharp, practical. The science underneath what Scripture has been saying about identity, pruning, and the version of you that habits build over time.

• Book: On Purpose Person by Kevin McCarthy. I studied this book with a group of men who were on a mission to level up. It worked. It’s a practical guide to leveling up, on purpose.
  
  See you next week? Let me know if anything.

Reply if you want prayer or ask me anything.

Prayerfully,

EA

I’ve been working through Chip Ingram’s The Invisible War; a study on Ephesians 6.

About a week in, something cracked open in me. I sat down to journal my response to that day’s reading and what came out wasn’t the polished, theologically tidy answer I’m used to giving. It was this:

I’m holding levels of unforgiveness in my heart. I’m holding relationships that aren’t reconciled. I haven’t been honest with the people I’ve been hurt by; I just let it sit. I’m not honest with God either. I wake up early stressing over work, finances, health, direction. And the truth is it’s not that I don’t want to be honest with God. It’s that I’m starting to be honest with myself. I’ve been trusting myself. Leaning on my own understanding. Walking in my own ways.

That’s the actual entry from my journal. Not edited. Not softened.

What I realized in writing it is that I’d been performing a version of faith that skipped the most important step. I was praying. Reading. Showing up. Doing all the things you’re supposed to do. But I was managing the conversation with God; not actually having it. There’s a difference between talking to God and being honest with Him. And every spiritual breakthrough I’ve ever had has been on the other side of that difference.

In a separate conversation this week, I had a bro share that sometimes faith is hard and the only thing you can do is pray through it.

That landed. So I wrote back:

Choose your hard. Hard without faith felt hopeless and meaningless to me. Wrestle it out. Genesis 32:24: Jacob was left alone, and a Man came and wrestled with him until daybreak. Honest hard is where surrender starts and transformation has a chance.

Jacob didn’t get the blessing because he wrestled well. He got it because he wrestled honestly. He stopped pretending he was self-sufficient and let himself get dislocated by the encounter. Limp and all. That’s the picture.

What the Invisible War study keeps surfacing is that the enemy’s playbook isn’t sophisticated. He uses confusion to move you toward complacency. He muddies the water until pressing in feels optional. And once it feels optional, you stop doing it. That’s the whole strategy. Inactivity is the goal.

Pressing in is an activity. Not a feeling. Not a vibe. An action. And the first action — before discernment, before readiness, before any of the rest — is honesty. With yourself. With God.

You can’t surrender what you’ve never been willing to name. You can’t be transformed by something you keep at arm’s length. And you can’t fight an enemy whose tactics rely on confusion if you haven’t told the truth about what you’re actually carrying.

That’s the cost of admission. Not perfection. Not certainty. Just the willingness to put your real life on the table and let God meet you there.

Scripture to sit with:

• Genesis 32:24-28 — Jacob wrestles until daybreak; only then is he blessed

• Psalm 139:23-24 — “Search me, God, and know my heart… see if there is any offensive way in me”

• 1 John 1:9 — “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us”

• Proverbs 3:5-6 — “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding”

This week I’m focusing on:

One thing I've been holding that I haven't been honest with God about yet. Not a polished prayer. Just naming it. Putting it on the table. Trusting that's where He actually starts working.

Recommendations:

• Book: The Invisible War by Chip Ingram. Built around Ephesians 6 and what spiritual warfare actually looks like in a daily walk.

• Devotional: The Kingdon Man by Tony Evan. This was a quick and actionable guide. It helps focus time and attention.

• Book: Marriage on the Rock by Jimmy and Karen Evans. Where my wife and I started. If you’re entering a new season or trying to reset, start here.
  
  See you next week? Let me know if anything.

Reply if you want prayer or ask me anything.

Prayerfully,

EA

Early in my walk, I held back.

Not ready. Too new. They know more than I do. Who am I to speak into this. Who am I to be at this table. Who am I to think God has something for me to offer.

I had a version of every excuse you could write down. And every one of them sounded reasonable in the moment. None of them were true.

What changed was intimacy with God.

Not knowledge. Not credentials. Not finally feeling qualified. Intimacy. The slow, steady work of getting close enough to Him that I stopped seeing my experience as disqualifying and started recognizing it as deliberately placed.

I came across a line this week that stopped me: stop living your life like a question, and start being the answer that you are. God saw a problem in the planet, and He created you as the solution.

Read that one twice.

The Bible says we’re all created in His image. Yet none of us look like clones. That tells me something. There’s a version of Jesus people in your life need access to, and only you can deliver it. Not because you’re better. Because of who you are; where you’ve been; what you’ve walked through; the people who happen to be in your path right now.

When I was holding back, I was operating like the answer was out there somewhere; in a person more qualified, in a season further along, in a moment I hadn’t earned yet. I was treating my life like a question I was still trying to answer instead of a position I was already standing in. That’s not humility. That’s just delay dressed up as humility.

In a conversation this week we were unpacking what church actually is. The clearest framing that emerged was simple: church is worship plus the Word. That’s the foundation. And once you understand that, church becomes accessible far beyond Sunday. It becomes a posture you carry into every room. You worship where you are. You engage the Word where you stand. You bring both into your kitchen, your office, your car, your text messages, your fatherhood.

Which means the question isn’t whether you’ve found the right destination. The question is whether you’re showing up with what you have, where you are, intimately connected to God enough to actually deliver what only you can deliver.

You are not unqualified. You are not behind. You are not waiting on the day you finally feel ready.

You are already the answer God planted in this specific moment. The only question is whether you’ll stop stalling long enough to show up and show out with what you’ve already got.

Scripture to sit with:

• Ephesians 2:10 — “We are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do”

• Esther 4:14 — “Who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this”

• 1 Peter 4:10 — “Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others”

• Jeremiah 1:5 — “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you were born I set you apart”

This week I’m focusing on:

One moment I've been holding back from. One person, one conversation, one room where I've been waiting to feel ready. I'm going to show up anyway. With what I have. Trusting that's why I was placed there.

Recommendations:

• Book: The Purpose Driven Life by Rick Warren. The booklet that started the road. If the alien feeling is familiar, start here.

• Book: Dialed In by Jim Ramos. This book was introduced while I was in fellowship and worship with over 250 other men in the room. All about Reaching Your Full Capacity as a Man of God.

• ​Book: The Power of I Am by Joel Osteen. Recommended by our new friend Rick Blais.

Reply if you want prayer or ask me anything.

Prayerfully,

EA

Before my wife and I got married, we did the work.

Pre-marriage counseling. Real conversations about what we were carrying in from our unmarried lives and what we wanted to intentionally pack into the one we were building together. We worked through Marriage on the Rock by Jimmy and Karen Evans. We were deliberate about setting the temperature right before we ever walked through that door together.

That foundation has served us. But I won’t pretend maintaining it has always been easy.

Marriage moves through seasons. Some where you feel like you’re growing closer than you could have ever imagined. Others where you’re in the same house, handling the same responsibilities, and somehow still missing each other. I’ve lived in both. My wife and I have entered and exited more seasons than I can count.

What’s held us through all of them is simple: we talk about it. We put it on the table before the narrative in our heads gets to write the story for us. Talking doesn’t always lead to resolution. But it always leads to better understanding. And better understanding is always better than the version of events you’ve been quietly building alone in the dark.

I heard a pastor break this down in a series called Shame Off Me. His point was that the dark is exactly where the enemy does his best work. In the silence. In the unspoken. In the space between what’s real and the story you tell yourself because you haven’t said the actual thing out loud yet. The moment you bring it into the light — name it, say it, put it on the table — that space shrinks. Shame loses its grip. The narrative loses its power. Things can actually get healthy.

A bro did something courageous in a conversation recently. He named out loud that he and his wife weren’t fighting; they were just missing each other. That’s a harder thing to say than most people realize. Fighting has a clear opponent. Missing each other is quieter. More ambiguous. Easier to leave unnamed and hope it resolves on its own.

What he did was Extreme Ownership. Jocko Willink would recognize it immediately. Not blaming the circumstance. Not waiting for the other person to move first. Just: this is where we are, it’s on me to name it, and I’m naming it.

T.D. Jakes once said that he and his wife try not to go through the same emotional slumps at the same time. I’ve sat with that for years. That’s the beauty of partnership; when one gets weak, there’s another to stay strong. But somebody has to be willing to say which season they’re in. You can’t meet each other where you are if one of you is pretending you’re somewhere else.

As a man, I’ve learned that sometimes leading means pulling together strength you don’t feel like you have. Not because you’re superhuman. Because you’re the thermostat. You set the temperature. And sometimes setting the right temperature means being the first one to say: something’s off and I want to talk about it.

That’s not weakness.

That’s exactly what the role requires.

Scripture to sit with:

• Ephesians 5:25 — “Husbands, love your wives just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her”

• James 5:16 — “Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed”

• Proverbs 27:17 — “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another”

• John 3:20-21 — “Everyone who does evil hates the light… but whoever lives by the truth comes into the light”

This week I’m focusing on:

One thing I’ve been leaving on the table. Not to start a fight. Not to be right. Just to bring it out of the dark and into the open where something healthy can actually happen.

Recommendations:

• Book: Marriage on the Rock by Jimmy and Karen Evans. Where my wife and I started. If you're entering a new season or trying to reset, start here.

• Book: Everybody, Always by Bob Goff. Because once you know whose you are, loving others without agenda becomes possible. This is what that looks like in practice.

• Book: Extreme Ownership by Jocko Willink. Simple, sharp, no excuses. The posture of taking the lead applies everywhere, including your living room.

Reply if you want prayer or ask me anything.

Prayerfully,

EA

My kids were wrestling with some disappointment this week.

A sleepover was coming up and the feelings they’d been carrying — some hurt, some uncertainty — were sitting heavy on them. My wife and I tried encouragement. We tried reframing. We tried all the things parents try when their kids are stuck in a feeling they can’t shake.

Nothing landed.

So I stopped trying to fix it and started sharing instead.

I told them about a time I carried the same kind of heaviness into something. How I’d walked into a room already defeated before anything had happened. How the experience confirmed exactly what I expected — not because the circumstances forced it, but because I’d already decided how it was going to go.

Then I gave them the line I’ve been sitting with myself:

If you think you’re going to have a tough time, you’re right. If you believe you’re going to have a great time, you’re also right.

That’s not positive thinking. That’s not telling yourself everything is fine when it isn’t. That’s expectancy. The posture you choose before the day hands you anything. The decision you make before the room fills up, before the conversation starts, before the outcome is known.

The word came up in a study this week and it stopped me. Expectancy. Not wishful. Not passive. Active. Leaning forward. Anticipating what God has already set in motion rather than bracing for what the enemy wants you to fear.

During a conversation, the same tension kept circling back — how do you pursue God the same way on a mountaintop as you do in a valley? How do you keep your eyes on Jesus when the protein shake just spilled on your seat and two of your sons are in crisis and your youngest is having a bipolar episode and none of it is your fault and all of it is your problem?

Bro said it plainly: the goal is that our pursuit of God doesn’t change based on our circumstances.

That’s expectancy with roots in it. Not the feeling that everything will go well. The settled conviction that God is already in it; already working; already ahead of whatever is coming at you this morning.

My kids went to the sleepover.

I don’t know exactly what shifted. But I know something did after that conversation. Because what they needed wasn’t more encouragement from me. They needed to see that their father had faced the same feeling and made a different choice. And that the choice was available to them too.

That’s what expectancy does when it’s real. It doesn’t just change your mood. It becomes something your kids can inherit.

Scripture to sit with:

• Hebrews 11:1 — “Faith is the substance of things hoped for; the evidence of things not seen”

• Romans 8:28 — “In all things God works for the good of those who love him”

• Lamentations 3:22-23 — “His mercies are new every morning; great is your faithfulness”

• Philippians 4:6-7 — “Do not be anxious about anything; but in every situation present your requests to God”

This week I’m focusing on:

Choosing expectancy before the day earns it. Not after circumstances confirm God is working. Before. That’s when it costs something. That’s when it counts.

Recommendations:

• Book: The Purpose Driven Life by Rick Warren. The booklet that started the road. If the alien feeling is familiar, start here.

• Book: Everybody, Always by Bob Goff. Because once you know whose you are, loving others without agenda becomes possible. This is what that looks like in practice.

• Book: Four Pillars of a Man’s Heart by Stu Weber. We talked about this a few weeks back and I first got introduced to it over a decade ago. Regardless of the season, this book is a great read that helped discern between being a king, warrior, mentor, or friend.

Reply if you want prayer or ask me anything.

Prayerfully,

EA

I spent a long time feeling like I didn’t belong anywhere.

Not at home. Not in rooms I’d worked hard to get into. Not in my own skin. I was apologetic about who I was before I ever opened my mouth. Constantly adjusting. Constantly scanning. Constantly wondering if this was the place I’d finally fit or the place that would remind me again that I didn’t.

I felt like an extraterrestrial. An outsider looking in at a world that made sense to everyone else.

What I didn’t know then was that the feeling wasn’t the problem. It was the signal.

A pastor handed me a small booklet, What on Earth Am I Here For? by Rick Warren. It wasn’t a long read. But it landed at the exact moment I needed something to land. It started pulling on a thread I didn’t know was there. Who am I? Why am I here? And why does it feel like I’ve been answering those questions with everyone else’s answers?

That booklet opened a door. What walked me through it was a relationship with Jesus.

Learning who God is. Who Jesus is. What the Holy Spirit actually does. Understanding my lineage; not just where I came from, but whose I am. Getting a picture of what a healthy father’s heart looks like, because I was building my understanding of God on a foundation that had some gaps in it. And slowly, over time, the alien feeling started to lift. Not because the world changed. Because my identity did.

This week I reflected on His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life. Past tense. Already done. Not contingent on performance or preparation or finally getting it right.

I sent a message to the group chat this week wrestling with it. The difference between knowing you have access and actually taking hold. Because there’s a version of faith that stays entirely in the head. You know the scripture. You can reference the promise. But you’re still fighting the battle in your own strength; still operating like an outsider; still waiting to feel worthy enough to receive what’s already been given.

That’s the elder son in the prodigal story. Everything the father had was already his. He just never took it. He was standing in the middle of his inheritance acting like a servant.

2 Timothy 1:7 is the turn: God didn’t give us a spirit of timidity or fear. He gave us power, love, and a sound mind. It’s not by our confidence. It’s by our faith in His promises.

What I’ve learned, slowly, through enough failures to be credible about it, is that the gap between wanting and having is almost never about access. It’s about identity. The people who move from wanting to actually having; success, freedom, peace, fulfillment, joy; aren’t necessarily more gifted or more disciplined. They’ve just settled the question of who they are. They know whose they are. And from that place, they take hold.

The alien feeling didn’t go away because I finally fit. It went away because I stopped needing to.

That’s what identity in Christ does. It doesn’t make you more acceptable to the room. It makes the room’s verdict irrelevant.

You already have everything you need. The question is whether you know you’re the kind of person who gets to receive it.

Scripture to sit with:

• 2 Peter 1:3 — “His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life”

• 2 Timothy 1:7 — “God did not give us a spirit of timidity but of power, love, and self-discipline”

• Romans 8:15-16 — “You did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear; you received the Spirit of adoption”

• John 1:12 — “To all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God”

This week I’m focusing on:

One area where I'm still fighting in my own strength. Naming it. Then asking: what would it look like to draw from what's already been given instead?

Recommendations:

• Book: The Purpose Driven Life by Rick Warren. The booklet that started the road. If the alien feeling is familiar, start here.

• Book: Dialed In by Jim Ramos. This book was introduced while I was in fellowship and worship with over 250 other men in the room. All about Reaching Your Full Capacity as a Man of God.

• Book: Everybody, Always by Bob Goff. Because once you know whose you are, loving others without agenda becomes possible. This is what that looks like in practice.

Reply if you want prayer or ask me anything.

Prayerfully,

EA

I’ve been wrestling with purpose for about a year.

It started with a simple question: am I focusing my attention in the right place? That question pulled on a thread. And the more I pulled, the more unraveled. Why can’t I stay consistent with my health? Why does my focus keep fracturing? Why does it feel like I’m moving but not advancing?

All roads led to the same place.

Too much noise.

Not the dramatic kind. The quiet, accumulated kind. The kind that fills every gap before you notice it’s there. Notifications. Scroll sessions. The reflexive reach for the phone before your feet hit the floor. None of it feels like a problem until you step back and realize it’s been setting your agenda for months.

So I started pruning.

Deleted social media apps from my phone. Made it clear that social media wasn’t a reliable way to reach me. Then I went further. Replaced the noise with something intentional. A walk before sitting down in front of the TV. A workout before attending to the fires waiting in my inbox. A worship song and a devotional before the first email of the day.

Bad habits don’t disappear. You replace them. Without a reason why, nothing sticks. The replacement has to mean something more than the habit it’s pushing out.

Here’s what the pruning produced: stronger signal.

And in that signal, I’m finding something I wasn’t expecting. Purpose isn’t a destination you arrive at once. It’s not a thing you figure out at 25 and carry unchanged into 50. The purpose of yesterday doesn’t match the purpose of today. And that’s not failure. That’s growth.

Seasons change. We change with them. The work we were called to at one stage gets outgrown. The version of purpose that fit you at 30 may be too small at 45. The mistake isn’t growing past it. The mistake is refusing to prune what you’ve outgrown; holding onto an old season because it once felt right; mistaking familiarity for calling.

Rick Warren put me on this road. The Purpose Driven Life was the first book that asked me to take the question seriously. It landed when I needed it. It still holds. But I’ve learned that the book gives you the framework; the relationship with God does the actual work of filling it in. And that filling-in is ongoing. It doesn’t stop.

Purpose matures as we mature. But only if we let it. Only if we’re willing to do the pruning; reduce the noise, remove what’s finished, make room for what’s next.

The signal is there. It’s been there.

We just have to get quiet enough to hear it.

Scripture to sit with:

• John 15:1-2 — “He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit; every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful”

• Ecclesiastes 3:1 — “There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under the heavens”

• Romans 12:2 — “Be transformed by the renewing of your mind; then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is”

• Psalm 46:10 — “Be still and know that I am God”

This week I’m focusing on:

One thing I'm still holding onto that belongs to a past season. Not to judge it; it served its purpose. But to name it honestly and ask God what comes next.

Recommendations:

• Book: The Purpose Driven Life: What on Earth Am I Here For? by Rick Warren. This book found me at the right time. It challenged me to be more intentional.

• Devotional: The Kingdon Man by Tony Evan. This was a quick and actionable guide. It helps focus time and attention.

• Book: On Purpose Person by Kevin McCarthy. I studied this book with a group of men who were on a mission to level up. It worked. It’s a practical guide to leveling up, on purpose.

Reply if you want prayer or ask me anything.

Prayerfully,

EA

I asked a question this week that nobody wanted to answer honestly.

We were talking about a horn honk that challenged one of the guys. He’d beeped at someone who blew through a stop sign in the parking lot. Turned out that person was a new invite to the Men’s Meetup. First time walking through the door.

So I asked: if you knew he was a client, would you have honked?

He said no. Then caught himself. Then said yes.

He was trying to be consistent. I respect that. But we all knew the honest answer.

We behave differently depending on who’s watching. With clients, we’re patient. With colleagues, we’re professional. With strangers we want to impress, we’re generous. With family, we let our guard down and raise our expectations. We’ve all done it. Most of us still do.

Someone in the room called it hypocrisy. I think that’s partly right. But I think it’s something else too.

It’s untrained sensitivity.

We already know how to read a room. We do it every day. We modulate tone, posture, energy. We know when to push and when to pull back. We just haven’t applied that same calibration everywhere; to the stranger in the parking lot, to the kid at the dinner table, to the wife who got the leftover version of us after the job got the best.

Jesus didn’t operate with one setting. He separated from the crowd to go deeper with the few who were ready to press in. He sat with the woman at the well and met her exactly where she was. He flipped tables in the temple. He wept at Lazarus’s tomb without a sermon.

He read the moment. He pulled the right tool. Every time.

That’s not inconsistency. That’s mastery.

And I think that’s what maturity actually looks like. Not having more to offer. Knowing what the moment requires and having the discipline to bring that; not whatever you defaulted to last time, not whatever’s easiest, not whatever protects your comfort.

The word that keeps surfacing for me is intimacy. Into-me-see. The capacity to look at a person or a moment and actually see what’s needed; not what you assumed, not what you prepared for, not what worked on the last person.

That sensitivity doesn’t come from trying harder. It comes from proximity to Jesus. The closer you are to Him, the more you see what He sees. The more you see what He sees, the better you get at knowing which tool to pick up.

The goal isn’t to have more in the toolbox. It’s to stop reaching for the same one every time.

Scripture to sit with:

• 1 Corinthians 9:22 — “I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some”

• 2 Corinthians 12:9 — “My power is made perfect in weakness”

• Proverbs 15:23 — “A person finds joy in giving an apt reply; how good is a timely word”

• John 11:35 — Jesus wept. Two words. The right tool for that moment.

This week I’m focusing on:

Before I respond to someone this week; one pause. One question: what does this moment actually need from me? Not what I feel like giving. What does it need.

Recommendations:

• Book: Everybody, Always by Bob Goff. I like this book because it’s about loving people without agenda, before you know if it’ll matter. That’s the posture I’ve had to learn to embrace and take.

• Book: Four Pillars of a Man’s Heart by Stu Weber. We talked about this a few weeks back and I first got introduced to it over a decade ago. Regardless of the season, this book is a great read that helped discern between being a king, warrior, mentor, or friend.

• Book: The Purpose Driven Life: What on Earth Am I Here For? by Rick Warren. This book found me at the right time. It challenged me to be more intentional.

Reply if you want prayer or ask me anything.

Prayerfully,

EA

My son was on a bus coming back from Washington, D.C.

The man in the seat directly in front of him pulled out his phone and started watching pornography. Publicly. No awareness of who was around him.

My son didn’t look. Didn’t nudge his friend. Didn’t react.

He turned to the kid sitting next to him and said: “Hey — put your head down. Don’t look forward. The guy in front of us is watching something he shouldn’t be.”

He’s 17.

I heard that and had to sit with it for a minute. Because that wasn’t a technique he learned or a rule he was following. That was fruit. The kind you don’t manufacture in the moment; the kind that grows slowly from a real relationship with Jesus.

We spent time this week on love. 1 Corinthians 13 came up — patient, kind, not envious, doesn’t keep a record of wrongs. The honest question: how do we actually get there? Because trying harder doesn’t work. We all know that by now.

What kept surfacing was this: love isn’t a destination. It’s not a skill you acquire. It’s a person you stay close to. You don’t download love and then distribute it. You stay connected to the source; it flows when you need it — sometimes before you even know you needed it.

My son didn’t decide to protect his friend in that moment. He just did it. Because of what had been built long before that bus ride. Wrestling with God. Finding his way through his own struggle. Coming out the other side with something stronger than willpower.

John 15 says it plainly: remain in my love. Not arrive at it. Remain.

There’s a bicycle illustration that landed: you don’t look at yourself when you’re riding. The moment you fix your eyes on your own wobbling, you fall. Fix your eyes on Jesus; the love follows without you manufacturing it.

I’m not there yet. None of us are. But I saw what it looks like in a 17-year-old on a bus. And I want more of that.

Scripture to sit with:

• John 15:9-12 — “Remain in my love… love each other as I have loved you”

• 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 — Love is patient, kind; it keeps no record of wrongs

• 1 Corinthians 16:13-14 — “Stand firm… let everything you do be done in love”

• Galatians 5:22-23 — Love is the first fruit of the Spirit; it grows, not performs

This week I’m focusing on:

One relationship where I've been trying to manufacture love through effort. I'm going to stop trying harder and start abiding more — Word before reaction, prayer before the moment I need to respond.

Recommendations:

• Book: Everybody, Always by Bob Goff. I like this book because it’s about loving people without agenda, before you know if it’ll matter. That’s the posture I’ve had to learn to embrace and take.

• Book: Love Does by Bob Goff, continues the conversation on the verb. The core argument is that love is active before it’s articulate. Short, fast, worth it.

• Book: What on Earth Am I Here For? by Rick Warren. This book found me at the right time. It challenged me to be more intentional.

Reply if you want prayer or ask me anything.

Prayerfully,

EA

I dropped my son off at a friend’s home and watched the car pull away.

I smiled. Tensed up inside. Smiled again.

He was going out of state for a school trip. My wife and I weren’t going. No chaperone badge. No seat on the bus. Just trust; and whatever we’d built before that moment.

I served while I was there. Helped with bags. Offered a smile to the group. Said something encouraging to the kids. Then they were gone; and it was just me and whatever I’d been trying to hold together on the inside.

The question that stayed with me the whole drive home: do I actually have faith? Not the kind I talk about. The kind that holds when the car pulls away and there’s nothing left to do.

Hebrews 11:1 calls it the substance of things hoped for. Substance. Not sentiment. Not optimism. Something real that exists before the evidence shows up.

What I’ve learned is that you can’t manufacture that kind of trust in the moment you need it. You spend what you’ve already deposited. The relationships we’d sowed into; a few parents we knew and trusted; became God’s provision when we needed it most. Calls came through the week. Updates landed. The fruit held.

Last week, someone opened in prayer with this: “You’re still in control. Still in charge. Still on the throne.” That’s not poetry. That’s the only thing that makes sense when the car pulls away and you’re standing there with a smile on your face and tension in your chest.

The fruit doesn’t show up in the crisis. It shows up from what you planted before one arrived.

Scripture to sit with:

• Hebrews 11:1 — “Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen”

• Galatians 6:9 — “Let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap”

• Proverbs 3:5-6 — “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding”

• Ecclesiastes 4:9-12 — Two are better than one; a cord of three strands is not easily broken

This week I’m focusing on:

One relationship I've been meaning to invest in but haven't. Not a crisis call. Just a deposit; before it's needed.

Recommendations:

• Book: Everybody, Always by Bob Goff. I like this book because it’s about loving people without agenda, before you know if it’ll matter. That’s the posture I’ve had to learn to embrace and take.

• Book: The Go-Giver by Bob Burg. This one was a parable about giving value before you receive it. Short, fast read. This book mirrored the sowing-before-harvest lessons that have stood up to the tests.

• Book: On Purpose Person by Kevin McCarthy. I studied this book with a group of men who were on a mission to level up. It worked. It’s a practical guide to leveling up, on purpose.

Reply if you want prayer or ask me anything.

Prayerfully,

EA

I was 19 years old and going nowhere.

High school was barely behind me. No plan. No direction. Just the workforce absorbing another guy who graduated and drifted in because that’s what I guessed needed to be done.

I wasn’t lazy. I just had no map and no urgency to find one.

Then a supervisor said it plainly: “You’re not going anywhere, kid.”

It stung. Then it made me furious. Then, after the sting and the fury passed, it did something I didn’t expect. It woke me up. Not because he was wrong; because he was right and I knew it.

What changed wasn’t the circumstances. It was the posture. I stopped cataloguing everything and everyone around me that was the problem. I picked up ownership instead.

That shift — from outward blame to inward accountability — changed the trajectory. Not overnight. But it started there.

What I didn’t know yet was that this posture had a ceiling.

Grit and ownership can carry you a long way.

They carried me through finishing a four-year degree in three years; through night school with a child on the way; through a manufacturing floor that had no patience for excuses. But grit-alone is a closed loop. It keeps you moving but it doesn’t reorient you. You can own your effort and still be pointed the wrong direction.

About a year after that supervisor conversation, a pastor handed me a copy of Rick Warren’s What on Earth Am I Here For. That was the second collision. The first one told me to stop looking outward at everyone else. The second one gave me something to look toward.

What followed was a commitment to actually study Scripture; to press into a relationship with God rather than just acknowledge one. That intimacy is what changed the prescription. Ownership without God is self-reliance with better manners.

Ownership with God is something else. It gives you a mirror that doesn’t lie and a foundation that doesn’t shift.

It’s so easy to look outward.

That’s the default setting. Find what’s broken outside yourself; catalogue it; build a case. The problem is that posture is almost always a distraction from what actually needs work. Matthew 7 names it plainly. “Why do you notice the speck in your brother’s eye when there’s a log in your own?”

The word that follows in some translations lands like a hammer. “Hypocrite. Not a gentle redirect.” A pattern interrupt.

I’ve used it with my kids. When one of them starts listing grievances about a sibling and I can see them drifting from the actual issue, I’ll sometimes hold their face and say: “Stay here. Look at me.”

That’s what that verse does to me every time I read it. It’s God holding my face. Saying: I hear you. You might even be partly right. But you’re focused on the wrong thing right now.

We all have things we’re quick to judge in others that we haven’t finished resolving in ourselves. That’s not a failing to confess once and move past. It’s a posture to maintain daily; a discipline of returning your gaze inward before you let it drift out.

Growing closer to God didn’t make me softer on accountability.

It made the accountability more honest. The closer you get to that mirror, the less time you spend cataloguing everyone else. Not because their stuff doesn’t exist. Because yours is right in front of you and there’s enough work there.

The posture is still the same one that supervisor cracked open at 19. Stop looking out. Look in. Own what’s yours.

The difference now is I don’t carry it alone.

Scripture to sit with:

• Romans 2:1 — Who pass judgment on someone else are condemning

• Matthew 7:3-5 — “Hypocrite.” Why do you notice the speck in others'

This week I’m focusing on:

When you notice something in someone else that irritates or frustrates you; pause before you speak. Ask: where does this live in me too?

Don’t perform the question. Actually sit with it.

Recommendations:

• Bible: Jesus-Centered Bible, NLT. I like this one because it keeps Jesus at the center. Simple design. Great commentary. Points at Jesus throughout.

• Book: The Purpose Driven Life: What on Earth Am I Here For? by Rick Warren. This book found me at the right time. It challenged me to be more intentional.

• Book: On Purpose Person by Kevin McCarthy. I studied this book with a group of men who were on a mission to level up. It worked. It’s a practical guide to leveling up, on purpose.

  ---

  Thanks for reading Lead You First! This post is public so feel free to share it.

  Share

  Reply if you want prayer or ask me anything.

  Prayerfully,

  EA

I met with a group of dads this week. We talked about parenting, comparison, anger, the “at least I’m not like my dad” trap.

Good conversation. But it got me reflecting on something deeper.

This isn’t just a parenting problem. It’s an identity problem.

Who are we identifying ourselves with?

Is it a God who created all creation—including us—in His image?

Is it a Christ who broke barriers and gave us examples of unconventional leadership, giving us “power, love, and self-discipline”?

Is it a Holy Spirit who tethers us and challenges us to be “faithful stewards of God’s grace”?

Or is it a version of ourselves that makes us proud?

I believe we were designed for far bigger things than we allow ourselves. Not in an ego way. In a calling way.

There’s a version of us that’s truer, steadier, and more aligned than the survival version we default to when life gets loud.

Leadership development is recovery.

I don’t think most leaders need to be rebuilt from scratch. I think they need to return to what they already know is right. What they already know is in them.

Clarity. Courage. Self-control. Humility. Conviction.

A willingness to tell the truth. A willingness to serve without becoming a rescuer. A willingness to lead without needing to be needed.

What buries it is rarely one big failure. It’s a slow drift.

Fear. Ego. Comfort. Approval-seeking. Constant urgency. The pressure to perform. The dopamine of being the hero.

The quiet trade where I swap conviction for convenience and call it “being practical.”

Over time, I lose the thread. I still look successful. But I feel less alive.

Then, these three anchors help pull me in:

1. Made in His image (Genesis 1:27). God created mankind in His own image. That’s not just theology. That’s identity. You’re not an accident. You’re not a minimalist. You’re crafted for purpose.

   When I see myself through that lens, I stop comparing down. I start measuring up. I see my parents with grace. I see people with less judgment. I see myself as a steward, not a survivor.

2. Equipped by His example (2 Timothy 1:7). God gave us power, love, and self-discipline. Not timidity. Not passivity. Not the need to be the hero.

   Jesus led without needing approval. He served without rescuing. He told the truth even when it cost Him. That’s the model. Unconventional leadership rooted in identity, not ego.

3. Responsible for stewardship (1 Peter 4:10). Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace. My time. My gifts. My leadership. My family. My influence.

   I’m responsible. I can’t outsource that to my circumstances. I can’t pretend the system is neutral. The system shapes people. That’s exactly why recovery matters. It’s a return to identity and purpose before the noise rewrote the story.

Scripture to sit with:

• Genesis 1:27 — Created in God’s image

• Luke 18:10-14 — Pharisee and tax collector; humility over self-righteousness

• 2 Corinthians 5:17 — If anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come

• Ephesians 2:10 — We are God’s handiwork, created for good works

• 2 Timothy 1:7 — God gave us power, love, and self-discipline

• 1 Peter 4:10 — Faithful stewards of God’s grace

• Luke 12:48 — From everyone given much, much will be demanded

• Job 42:10 — After Job prayed for his friends, the Lord restored him

This week I’m focusing on:

Asking God: "Where am I saying 'at least I'm not like...' instead of seeing myself and others as made in Your image?" Then letting that lens change how I see my parents, my kids, myself, and the people I come in contact with.

I’m responsible for stewardship. Not perfection. Not comparison. Not “better than my dad.”

Stewardship. My faith keeps pulling me back to the same standard.

From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded (Luke 12:48).

Recommendations:

• Book: On Purpose Person by Kevin McCarthy. I studied this book with a group of men who were on a mission to level up. It worked. It’s a practical guide to leveling up, on purpose.

• Book: Four Pillars of a Man’s Heart by Stu Weber. We talked about this a few weeks back and I first got introduced to it over a decade ago. Regardless of the season, this book is a great read that helped discern between being a king, warrior, mentor, or friend.

• Devotional: The Kingdon Man by Tony Evan. This was a quick and actionable guide. It helps focus time and attention.

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  Share

  Reply if you want prayer or ask me anything.

  Prayerfully,

  EA

The pattern was brought to attention: something good happens, then something hard follows right behind it.

Abraham gets the promise of descendants like sand on the seashore; God asks him to sacrifice Isaac.

Jesus gets baptized; the Spirit drives Him into the wilderness for 40 days to be tempted.

You take a step forward in faith; hell breaks loose in your finances, health, or relationships.

This isn’t random.

The moment you move toward God, the enemy takes notice. If you’re not being tested, it might be because you’re not a threat. Passivity doesn’t draw fire; obedience does.

Here’s what hit me this week: Romans 8:28 says God works all things for the good of those who love Him. Not some things. All things. That includes the hard stuff that follows the good stuff.

When I’m teaching my son to drive, I can see it as “life happening to me”—another task, another stress, another thing demanding my time. Or I can see it as “life happening for me”—a growth moment, a chance to let go of control, an opportunity to disciple him through something uncomfortable.

Same situation. Different lens.

It’s not about wrecking you. It’s about refining.

The harder the test, the greater the transformation. Abraham walked away with a nation. Jesus walked out of the wilderness in the power of the Spirit. You'll walk through whatever you're facing with something you didn't have before—if you stay in it.

Here’s the shift:

Most of us operate on facts. We know the gym is good for us. We know Scripture is important. We know we should love our spouse sacrificially. But knowing it isn’t the same as loving it.

The real transformation happens when your heart changes—when you stop doing it because you have to and start doing it because you want to. That doesn’t happen overnight. It’s discipline first, then love. Obedience first, then desire.

If you haven’t trained for the hard conversation, you’ll avoid it when it shows up. If you haven’t trained for saying yes to God in the small things, you’ll hesitate in the big things. If you haven’t trained for fasting, prayer, and stillness, you’ll be unprepared when the battle comes.

And the battle will come.

Scripture to sit with:

• Romans 8:28 — All things work for good for those who love God

• Genesis 22:1-18 — Abraham’s test; God provides the ram

• Matthew 4:1-11 — Jesus fasted 40 days, then faced temptation

• 1 Peter 5:8 — Be alert and sober-minded; the enemy prowls

• James 1:2-4 — Count it pure joy when you face trials

• Hebrews 12:11 — No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but it produces a harvest

This week I’m focusing on:

Asking God: "What's the test in this situation? What are You trying to refine in me?" Then staying in it instead of running from it.

Recommendations:

• Bible: Jesus-Centered Bible, NLT. I like this one because it keeps Jesus at the center. Simple design. Great commentary. Points at Jesus throughout.

• Book: Four Pillars of a Man’s Heart by Stu Weber. We talked about this a few weeks back and I first got introduced to it over a decade ago. Regardless of the season, this book is a great read that helped discern between being a king, warrior, mentor, or friend.

• Book: Wild at Heart by John Eldredge. This came highly recommended. This led to a conversation of how ‘gansta’ Jesus was and how God designed men to be dangerous. It’s a favorite on my reading list and challenged me to elevate my perception with a clearer perspective inside the true heart of a man.

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  Share

  Reply if you want prayer or ask me anything.

  Prayerfully,

  EA

This week I pulled out Four Pillars of a Man’s Heart by Stu Weber and asked:

What does it look like when these pillars go unhealthy?

The four pillars—king, warrior, mentor, friend—aren’t personality types. They’re callings every man carries. The question isn’t which one you are; it’s which one you’re neglecting, overplaying, or avoiding.

King. Think visionary plus provider. Too much: tyrant. You control, dominate, demand compliance without love. Your kingdom becomes chaos dressed up as order.

Too little: abdicator. Passive, absent, no vision. You leave everyone to fend for themselves.

In balance: servant-king. Strong vision with humble service. You provide without controlling.

Warrior. Think advocator and protector. Too much: brute. Unchecked anger, unnecessary battles, using strength to harm instead of protect.

Too little: coward. You avoid conflict, fail to protect the vulnerable, back down from evil.

In balance: tender warrior. Strength under control; fierce protection with gentleness. You fight the right battles, especially the spiritual ones.

Mentor. Think teacher plus challenger. Too much: know-it-all. Constant correction, lecturing without listening, imposing wisdom without relationship. You belittle instead of build.

Too little: silent. No teaching, no challenge, no investment. You leave others without guidance.

In balance: wise mentor. You teach truth with love, challenge growth through example, invest in everyday conversations.

Friend. Think connect and supporter. Too much: smotherer. Overly dependent, demanding constant emotional fusion, using friendship to control.

Too little: loner. Withdrawn, isolated, no vulnerability, no support given or received.

In balance: faithful friend. Sacrificial, loyal love like Jesus. You support without smothering; you stick through adversity.

As a dad, I drift between mentor and king. I want to teach, but I can slip into lecturing without listening. I want to provide vision, but sometimes I control instead of empower.

One guy told me his wife keeps him consistent; she challenges him when he’s frustrated and helps him respond instead of react. Another talked about the pressure to be authoritative versus building trust. Someone else said presence is the fight—doing the task in front of you with the right motive, not for applause but for God’s reward.

The hardest part isn’t knowing the pillars. It’s staying present long enough to execute them well. It’s rejecting passivity when it’s easier to withdraw. It’s leading courageously when you’d rather avoid the conflict.

Ephesians 6:10-18 talks about standing firm with truth, righteousness, the gospel, faith, salvation, the Word, and prayer. That's not passive gear. It's warrior equipment for men under pressure who refuse to quit.

Scripture to sit with:

• Genesis 2:15 — Work it and protect it (provider and protector from the start)

• Matthew 20:25-28 — Servant leadership as true kingship

• 1 Timothy 5:8 — Provide for your household or deny the faith

• Ephesians 6:10-18 — Put on the full armor of God

• Deuteronomy 6:6-7 — Impress God’s commands on your children as you walk

• 2 Timothy 2:2 — Entrust truth to reliable people who will teach others

• John 15:13-15 — Greater love: lay down your life for your friends

• Ecclesiastes 4:9-12 — Two are better than one; a cord of three strands isn’t easily broken

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This week I’m focusing on:

Asking myself: Which pillar am I overplaying? Which one am I avoiding? Then making one small adjustment—be present, stop lecturing, protect without controlling, or reach out to a friend.

Recommendations:

• Book: Four Pillars of a Man’s Heart by Stu Weber. We talked about this a few weeks back and I first got introduced to it over a decade ago. Regardless of the season, this book is a great read that helped discern between being a king, warrior, mentor, or friend.

• Book: Wild at Heart by John Eldredge. This came highly recommended. This led to a conversation of how ‘gansta’ Jesus was and how God designed men to be dangerous. It’s a favorite on my reading list and challenged me to elevate my perception with a clearer perspective inside the true heart of a man.

• Plan: Uncommen Changes by Sam Casey. This study explored Solomon. It was a prompting to draw closer to God, especially amidst the change in seasons. It drew toward discovering that God has perfect timing.

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  Prayerfully,

  EA

A friend asked me this week: “What does it mean when someone says God spoke through you?”

That question led me down a rabbit hole. If God the Father is everywhere, Jesus is the example I follow, and the Holy Spirit lives in me, then how do I actually hear Him? How do I know it’s His voice and not just noise?

I can't distinguish someone's voice in chaos unless I've spent time with them in quiet. That means Scripture, prayer, stillness. Not drive-by devotions. Dwelling.

I thought about Jacob wrestling with God all night in Genesis 32. Jacob wouldn't let go until he got a blessing. God gave it to him, but he walked away with a limp. Sometimes the wrestle costs something. Sometimes God blesses you and humbles you in the same breath.

God doesn't need me to have it all figured out before I come to Him. Bring the doubt. Bring the questions. Bring the confusion. Just don't walk away. Press in. Stay with it. Let Him reshape you through the wrestle.

When life gets loud, my instinct is to navigate through the chaos. Sometimes the better move is to turn down the volume. Not everything demanding my attention deserves it. Tune out the noise so I can hear the signal.

Someone said it well: “You don’t turn up the one thing you want to hear. You turn down everything else.”

Scripture to sit with:

• Genesis 32:22-28 — Jacob wrestles with God and walks away changed

• Jeremiah 1:5 — “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you”

• Matthew 28:19 — Baptizing in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit

• 2 Corinthians 13:14 — The grace of Jesus, love of God, fellowship of the Spirit

• 2 Timothy 3:16 — All Scripture is God-breathed

• Galatians 5:22-23 — Fruit of the Spirit

• James 1:22-25 — Be doers, not just hearers

• James 3:17 — Wisdom from above is pure, peace-loving, considerate

• 1 Thessalonians 5:19-21 — Do not quench the Spirit; test all things

This week I’m focusing on:

Asking God one question: “What name or identity are You trying to change in me right now?” Then sitting still long enough to hear the answer.

Recommendations:

• Book: On Purpose Person by Kevin McCarthy. I studied this book with a group of men who were on a mission to level up. It worked. It’s a practical guide to leveling up, on purpose.

• Video: Wrestling With Who You Are by Steven Furtick. I like how he shares the importance of finding our value and identity in Christ instead of our accomplishments.

• Bible: Jesus-Centered Bible, NLT. I like this one because it keeps Jesus at the center. Simple design. Great commentary. Points at Jesus throughout.

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  Prayerfully,

  EA

I’ve wrestled with faithfulness.

Early on, it felt passive—“wait and see.”

Lately, it’s clicked as something active: trust God while I move on what’s in my control, and release what isn’t.

Two lines have helped me frame my day:

Trust: open Scripture, pray simply, hand God the outcomes.

Act: take the next right step where I have agency.

Psalm 37:3 puts both in one sentence: “Trust in the LORD and do good.” Faithfulness isn’t idle; it’s obedience on repeat. Steady trust with small, concrete actions.

Our work is faithfulness. Seeking first the Kingdom, forgiving quickly, staying in the fight when feelings fade.

He’s listening. He’s forming us.

Answers aren’t mass-produced. God tailors them; as we continue to take action.

Scripture to sit with:

• Psalm 37:3-5 — “Trust in the LORD and do good… Commit your way to the LORD”

• Matthew 6:33 — “Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness”

• Proverbs 16:3 — “Commit to the LORD whatever you do, and He will establish your plans”

• James 1:22 — “Do not merely listen to the word… Do what it says”

This week I’m focusing on:

Making two columns: “In God’s hands” / “In my hands.” Then choosing one controllable action for today and doing it.

Recommendations:

• Book: The Purpose Driven Life: What on Earth Am I Here For? by Rick Warren. This book found me at the right time. It challenged me to be more intentional.

• Book: On Purpose Person by Kevin McCarthy. I studied this book with a group of men who were on a mission to level up. It worked. It’s a practical guide to leveling up, on purpose.

• Books: Know Your Why by Ken Costa and God At Work by Ken Costa. I came across the author while discovering how to bring God into the workplace. These helped connect success at work with my life outside of work.

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  Prayerfully,

  EA

Motion beats emotion.

I told my daughter this: in the Christian life, feelings often freeze you; faithful action creates traction. The tension is that God’s call often cuts across our comfort:

He says “be still” when we want to get busy.

He calls us to “submission” while we’re tempted with obsession.

He invites us to “trust in Him” when we default to trusting our past results.

Those are contrasting motions. One set is driven by emotion; the other is grounded in obedience.

I’ve learned God checks posture. Not how we feel, but how we focus.

Two lines to frame the day:

Trust: open Scripture, pray simply, hand God the outcomes.

Act: take the next right step where you have agency.

“Trust in the LORD and do good.” (Psalm 37:3) Faithfulness isn’t idle; it’s obedience on repeat—steady trust with small, concrete actions.

Scripture to sit with:

• Psalm 37:3 — “Trust in the LORD and do good”

• Proverbs 3:5-6 — “Trust in the LORD with all your heart… in all your ways acknowledge Him”

• James 2:17 — “Faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead”

• Philippians 4:6-7 — “Do not be anxious… but in every situation, by prayer and petition… present your requests to God”

This week I’m focusing on:

Taking the next right step where I have agency (one faithful action) while handing God the outcomes.

Recommendations:

• Devotional: The Kingdon Man by Tony Evan. This was a quick and actionable guide. It helps focus time and attention.

• Book: On Purpose Person by Kevin McCarthy. I studied this book with a group of men who were on a mission to level up. It worked. It’s a practical guide to leveling up, on purpose.

• Book: Four Pillars of a Man’s Heart by Stu Weber. We talked about this a few weeks back and I first got introduced to it over a decade ago. Regardless of the season, this book is a great read that helped discern between being a king, warrior, mentor, or friend.

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  Reply if you want prayer or ask me anything.

  Prayerfully,

  EA

Some seasons tempt us to sprint. I’m choosing the opposite; creating margin for God, family, and friends. That isn’t laziness; it’s stewardship.

When I submit my time to the people who fuel my calling, I feel like a coil being compressed; stored energy for the next season. Slowing down becomes preparation, not procrastination.

Two lines to frame the week:

Be still: protect quiet with God; let Him set the pace (Psalm 46:10).

Be present: invest attention in the people who matter most.

Faithfulness now looks like unhurried presence—receiving before striving—so we enter the new year aligned, not depleted.

Scripture to sit with:

• Psalm 46:10 — “Be still and know that I am God

• Ecclesiastes 3:1 — “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity”

• Matthew 11:28 — “Come to me, all you who are weary… and I will give you rest”

• Luke 10:38-42 — Mary chose what was better; it will not be taken away

This week I’m focusing on:

Protecting quiet with God and being fully present with the people who fuel my calling—family and friends first.

Recommendations:

• Books: Know Your Why by Ken Costa and God At Work by Ken Costa. I came across the author while discovering how to bring God into the workplace. These helped connect success at work with my life outside of work.

• Book: On Purpose Person by Kevin McCarthy. I studied this book with a group of men who were on a mission to level up. It worked. It’s a practical guide to leveling up, on purpose.

• Devotional: The Kingdon Man by Tony Evan. This was a quick and actionable guide. It helps focus time and attention.

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  Share

  Reply if you want prayer or ask me anything.

  Prayerfully,

  EA