THRIVING: A Six-Month Check-In
Six months ago, I declared 2026 my Year of THRIVING. I was ready for abundance, opportunity, momentum, and a holy "watch this" moment from God. This essay explores what happened when my expectations collided with reality—and the surprising discovery that maybe God was changing me more than He was changing my circumstances.
In this six-month check-in, I'm not a millionaire, bestselling author, keynote speaker, or Broadway star. My back still hurts. The credit cards still exist. And yet... somehow, I'm thriving more than I was before. I reflect on marriage, family, teaching, faith, writing, and the surprising realization that maybe the life I've been looking for isn't somewhere else.
Maybe thriving isn't found in finally arriving. Maybe it's found in fully showing up where I already am.
Living in the And
I think I’ve been waiting for my life to start again. Waiting for my body to feel better, for the pain to ease, for things to go back to the way they were—or at least to something recognizable. I’ve told myself that once I’m healed, once this chapter is over, then I’ll fully live again. But lately I’ve started to wonder what it would mean to stop waiting.
When Everything Feels Like Too Much
Some weeks don’t arrive with a single breaking point—they just keep adding weight. That’s what this one felt like. Every day brought another responsibility, another decision, another thing that needed attention while my body and spirit were already stretched thin. I kept telling myself to push through, to stay focused, to keep moving forward. But underneath all of that was a quieter truth: I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and running out of margin.
Choosing Presence & Learning to Stay
I think we’ve been lied to about what thriving is supposed to look like. Somewhere along the way, thriving became synonymous with momentum, clarity, joy, productivity—good weeks where everything clicks and nothing hurts too badly. By that definition, this has not been a thriving week for me. But I’m starting to realize that thriving isn’t a mood or an outcome—it’s a posture. It’s not about having it together or feeling inspired. It’s about choosing presence when things are heavy, uncomfortable, and unresolved.
Anger Is Where I Go First
When things feel uncertain or overwhelming, I don’t feel anxious first. I feel angry. It’s my default response—fast, sharp, and familiar. I hate this about myself. I don’t want to live my life as an angry man, constantly irritated at the world and everyone in it. I know, logically, that my anger doesn’t actually hurt the people I’m angry at—it only eats away at me. And yet, there it is. Again and again.