“If a tree falls in the middle of a forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?”

It’s a question that has been debated for generations.

But perhaps there’s a better question.

Who knew the tree was going to fall?

God did.

A few years ago, Laurie and I returned home from visiting our daughter Emma in Michigan. We pulled into our driveway around 12:20 in the morning. We quietly unloaded our luggage, trying not to wake Jacob, and finally made our way to bed. It was late, and church would come quickly.

Many years ago, I had the privilege of serving with an incredible ministry called JH Ranch, nestled on a thousand beautiful acres along the Oregon–California border. During each week with families, they shared a simple acronym that has stayed with me ever since:

G.O.D.

Gratitude. Obedience. Dependency.

A few weeks ago, I had the privilege of being invited to play in the Teen Challenge golf tournament with three other friends from Venture Church. I was excited for several reasons. These guys are simply fun to be around, the golf course is one of my favorites in San Diego, and I have always deeply respected the ministry and work of Teen Challenge.

As I’ve continued my journey of faith and my walk with the Lord, I’ve found myself noticing things that I never paid much attention to before.

One of those things is the color green.

Romans 8:28

“And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.”

As Laurie and I sat in church one Sunday morning, our pastor shared that buses were loading with high school students headed to Hume Lake for a week of camp. Before we left, he invited everyone to stop by a table, pick up a wristband with a student’s name on it, wear it throughout the week, and pray for that student by name.

One of the moments in Scripture that has always stayed with me is when Jesus girded Himself with a towel, poured water into a basin, and washed the feet of His disciples.

The King of kings became a servant.

Steve

Some people walk into your life for a season.

Others leave footprints on your soul forever.

Steve Crosby was one of those people.

I haven’t seen Steve in years, but I think about him often.

“Choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve… But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”
— Joshua 24:15

As I walked by these two businesses sitting side by side, I couldn’t help but smile. On one side was F45, a place dedicated to discipline, strength, and fitness. Right next door was a doughnut shop with the smell of warm, fresh doughnuts drifting out the front door

As I looked at the beautiful sign that Christina left behind after she and her family checked out of Hattie’s House last week, I couldn’t help but smile. It was such a thoughtful gift—simple, unexpected, and filled with gratitude. It reminded me once again that God is always at work, often in ways we don’t recognize until we pause long enough to notice.

John 7:18

“He who speaks from himself seeks his own glory; but He who seeks the glory of the One who sent Him is true, and no unrighteousness is in Him.”

This morning I was thinking about something Pastor Dennis Keating, the former senior pastor at Emmanuel Faith Community Church, once shared. He talked about stepping into leadership at a church that had already existed for more than 55 years. It was a deeply established church with strong leadership, strong traditions, and a rich history. And Dennis was only the fourth senior pastor in all those years.

“Jesus wept.” — John 11:35

It is the shortest verse in all of Scripture, yet perhaps one of the most profound.

Growing up, I vividly remember standing on Bancroft Avenue in Berkeley, California during my fifth, sixth, and seventh grade years. My brother was playing football for Cal Berkeley, and before the game ever began, there was always a scene unfolding outside the stadium.

“But you are not willing to come to Me that you may have life.” — John 5:40

A few months ago, I met a man named Keith.

Keith leads a gathering called But God, where men—young and old—come together on a beautiful hill overlooking San Diego. It’s a morning of breakfast, worship, and stories. Real stories. Stories of struggle, redemption, and the quiet, powerful ways God meets us right where we are.

This is a picture of Josh Hall, two of his amazing kids, and Lauri, the missions director at Fair Oaks Church—the day I first met Josh.

Josh was the senior pastor at Fair Oaks Church, and Lauri had shared with him that she had begun working with a new nonprofit called Hattie’s House. As Lauri explained the needs we had at the time, Josh went home and had a conversation with his wife, Kelly, about something very specific—the pink chair.

This photograph is of Charlie, her amazing sister Penny, and their mom and dad, Bert and Meaghan. Every time I look at it, I am reminded of the incredible journey that brought our families together.

I was on a little getaway with my beautiful bride when I got a text from my good friend Doug, the athletic director at Santa Fe Christian.

“Do you have a minute to chat?”

One of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received is the gift of being able to pray for others.

I can still remember those difficult and challenging seasons—times when life felt uncertain, heavy, and beyond what I could carry. And in those moments, people stepped into my life, into Laurie’s life, and they prayed. They prayed for God to intervene, for Him to heal, for Him to move in ways only He could. And what I experienced in those moments was something I’ll never forget. It was a blessing… a comfort… a strength that didn’t always change the situation, but it changed something in me. There was a peace that settled in, a reassurance that we were not alone, that God was present, and that He was at work.

This morning, I found myself in the book of Jonah. A man running, a storm rising, and a God pursuing. It’s a story that reminds us that even in the chaos—especially in the chaos—God is at work in ways we cannot see.

This morning I was thinking about how something so small can carry so much weight.

A simple question.

A simple decision.

A simple act.

And yet those small moments can lead to very different outcomes.

Laurie and I met a man named Robert Budd at a small gym in Encinitas. If I remember correctly, it was called the Encinitas Boxing Club. Robert and a friend named Caroline were teaching people how to use these things called kettlebells. At the time it was a bit of a craze, and Laurie and I—who were getting a little older and trying to stay healthy—decided to give it a try.