humility

free solo climb

Big Assumptions, Big Risks

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The decision to reopen schools came with a sense of urgency, as if the only way forward was to return to “normal.” But it was normal with masks, daily health checks, and a lot of uncertainty. Parents and teachers were left to balance the promises of stability with the real risks of exposure. The trade-off wasn’t just numbers on a chart—it was people’s lives and livelihoods. Thinking about the choice between online-only learning and returning to regular classes reminds me of a scenario I share with my economics classes: Assume you could put seatbelts on every new school bus produced … Read more

Two children having fun with colorful doughnuts as eyeglasses indoors.

The Challenge of Not Being Foolish

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When it comes to my health, I’ve made more than my share of foolish choices. For years I shrugged them off—until my doctor laid the truth out in numbers I couldn’t laugh away. Sugar isn’t only hiding in sodas or candy; sometimes it’s right there in the “healthy” things I thought I was choosing. That reality check stung, but it also gave me space to be honest, both with her and with myself. Foolishness doesn’t vanish overnight. But admitting it is the beginning—and choosing a better path, even slowly, is how it finally starts to fade.

contented sunrise

Clouds, Coffee, and Contentment

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On our last morning at sea, I watched a sunrise break through gray skies while an older couple walked by hand in hand. That simple scene broke through me. Back in our cabin, Becky and I shared coffee as the world began moving again. We ate a fancy brunch that felt both absurd and perfect—soups poured with flair, fruit towers, steak plated like crown jewels. Yet all I thought about were the pancakes we fed our kids twenty years ago. I’ve learned contentment grows in welcoming what’s present—not chasing some bigger, grander image of happiness.

The Servant’s Heart: Gratitude in Action

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Looking back at a photo of Kyle Field during the pandemic, I was reminded of how often ordinary people are called to extraordinary service. Teachers masked up, doctors worked endless shifts, and countless quiet acts of love carried us through uncertain days. Servanthood rarely looks heroic—it’s usually disguised as persistence, sacrifice, or care. I see it most clearly in Becky, whose tireless devotion in both small and large ways embodies what Jesus modeled when He washed His disciples’ feet. Gratitude isn’t only about receiving blessings—it’s about honoring the love and service that make them possible.