He was here beside me. Now he is gone.

The little boy with the huge natural smile and terrible smile for pictures is missing. He had these little dances, an incredibly sharp wit, intensity in sports, and a love for his brothers, and now he is missing.

No one took him. He was stolen by the hands of time.

I spent a week with him, and I was struck by how much of a man my baby has become. He is incredibly intelligent, calm under pressure, and has developed a style all his own.

There is no surprise that he was taken; time has done this to me three times before, but this caught me off guard because he is my last one. I no longer have kids; they are all gone. Now I am surrounded by men.

I don’t know how much time God will give me to be their father, but I am thankful for every day and each new memory. But I admit that as I drove away, I cried like a child. My boy is gone for good, and I am proud of the man who took his place.

Recently, I spent a week in the North Woods on a fishing expedition. One part of the trip consisted of a portage around a waterfall from one lake to another. As my companions and I moved from below the falls to the top, we had to wait for our guide to join us. He was delayed a few minutes, and while we stood there, we were surrounded by mosquitoes.

When I say we were surrounded, I do not mean there were several of them; I mean they formed a black cloud over our heads. It was the most mosquitoes I have ever witnessed on any occasion.

We took our coats and tightly wrapped our bodies, exposing only our eyes. We kept waving our hands and arms to push back the cloud of insects. We moved. We sprayed. I even said a little prayer that God would end this plague. I think my words were actually, “I repent.”

After we loaded the boat and took off down the lake, the cloud disappeared behind us, and we were finally free. I could not help but think about those tiny little bugs. One or two are an annoyance, but hundreds, maybe thousands, are enough to bring a full-size human to cry out for help.

Each person who follows Jesus may feel insignificant on their own, but when we work together, there is nothing we cannot accomplish in his name. Together, instead of bringing pain to the world, we can bring light and life that no human can quench.

That is not the question most of us ask. We want to know what is in it for me.

And yet this is the kind of life that Jesus calls us to. We are to elevate the needs of others to the level of our own.

Jesus said, “So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you” (Matthew 7:12).

The challenge is to go out into the world with a singular question: “What’s in it for them?” Trust me, no one will see it coming.

Jim Riswold, a former creative director at an advertising agency, is credited with coining the phrase “Start every day stupid.”

The basic concept is that if you start the day with a willingness to learn, you will have an advantage over the person who believes they know it all. This starting point will allow you to lay aside assumptions, ask basic questions, and give you room to think creatively about the problems you face.  

Today is Monday, and we are launching into a new week. How would your week be different if you “started this week stupid?”

You might finally learn that person’s name, understand how that thing works, be better informed about an issue, and find a new way to do the project. The world is full of possibilities if you are willing to be dumb and ask questions. The only thing standing in your way is your pride.

I love sledding in the winter. I also hate the work that goes into sledding.

Those few seconds of sliding down the hill with the cold wind in your face are exhilarating. The launch down the hill and picking up speed can feel like you are flying without ever leaving the ground. I can still feel the sensation and joy of a school snow day.

What I hated was reaching the bottom and having the sled come to a stop. The joy of the ride was over, and now I had to walk in the snow uphill. There were at least 15 minutes of challenging walking to reach the top before the few seconds of the slide.

This journey to the top was required to reach the height needed to develop speed. The higher the walk, the greater the momentum as you go down the hill.

Summer at Church is not always fun. For a Church leader, like me, it is a bit like walking up that hill. It is a long, slow process that requires putting one foot in front of the other when I would rather give up and go home. Late June and early July are not months when exciting things happen. They are months for preparation, planning, and prayer required for an amazing fall.

What does a pastor do in the summer? This might surprise you, but I keep preaching and leading worship every week (and we would love to have you join us). I also spend my summer doing the work that will get us ready for the ride down the mountain till Christmas. It is not exciting work, but it is necessary.

Young people dream big. College sports. Professional contracts. Wealth that buys whatever they want. The perfect body. The corner office. A life built around pleasure.

Nobody really talks them out of it. Why would they? Those dreams are everywhere: on screens, in stadiums, in the stories adults tell about what success looks like.

But here’s the question worth asking: Does any young person dream of becoming like Jesus?

More importantly, what are the adults in their lives dreaming about? Because whatever we treasure, we teach. The next generation doesn’t just hear our words. They’re watching our lives, and they’re taking notes.

If we want them to dream of Jesus, we must be people who do.

Over the past six months, I have been trying to follow Jesus more intentionally, not just with my mind, but with my heart as well.

The most important step a believer can take is to immerse themselves in Scripture. We need to read the words of Jesus, learn from Paul’s explanations, and allow God’s inspired word to shape our thinking. A Christian must fill their mind with the things of Christ.

At the same time, I have been paying closer attention to the impressions and promptings that come throughout the day. When someone comes to mind, I pray for them. If they remain on my heart, I send a note, text, or message to let them know I am thinking about them and praying for them. If I feel the need to contact someone, I do. If I cannot stop thinking about a situation, I pray and look for a way to help. When I notice someone standing outside the circle, I walk over and start a conversation.

Perhaps it is not really about following my feelings. Perhaps it is about responding to the nudges God gives through His Spirit.

What I am discovering is that God often places hurting people and difficult situations on my heart for a reason. Those promptings lead to a prayer, a phone call, a text, an email, or a conversation. And through those simple acts of obedience, God creates connections and opportunities to minister that I never could have planned myself.

I am not looking for some new truth about God. I am simply a man trying to use my life for His glory as I journey with Jesus.

And sometimes following Jesus is as simple as listening when He nudges you to act.

Someone recently described another person as “having very strong opinions.”

The problem is that I know many of those opinions are based on feelings, old experiences, half-truths, and social media reels. They have not sat in a church leadership meeting with me. They have never had a meaningful conversation with me as a pastor. Honestly, I am not even sure they read their Bible consistently.

They may have strong opinions, but those opinions are largely uninformed or misinformed.

An opinion is a personal conclusion that should remain open to new information. As we learn and grow, our opinions should become more refined and accurate.

A conviction is different. Convictions are deeply held beliefs that shape our identity and direct our actions. They are rooted in God’s Word, tested by experience, and grounded in truth.

If you have an opinion about something, especially about God, the Bible, or the Church, be willing to learn. Allow mature believers to challenge your thinking. Let Scripture shape your perspective. Then, over time, let those informed beliefs become convictions that guide your life.

The Church does not need more people with strong opinions. It needs more people with strong convictions.

He told me he enjoyed fishing and did it frequently as a kid, but had not been out in years. Honestly, he did not have to tell me.

He walked up carrying a Zebco 33 with a big red bobber, a weight, and an oversized hook. I watched for a couple of minutes as he set his depth at about two feet, pinched off a piece of nightcrawler, and flung it into the lake.

I knew his level of expertise just by looking.

People do the same thing with their faith. They tell me they have attended Church since childhood, enjoy a good sermon, and have been Christians for many years. Yet their words, actions, priorities, and lifestyle often reveal a very immature faith.

They do not have to tell me where they are spiritually. Most of the time, I can tell just by looking.

This is not about superficial judgment or profiling people. It is simply an observation. Just as there is a noticeable difference between a casual fisherman and a seasoned angler, there is also a noticeable difference between a shallow faith and a mature one.

You can know all the right Christian phrases. You can own all the right gear. You can even look the part. But a closer examination reveals the difference.

You may be able to convince some people with an appearance of faith, but you will never fool the Lord.

Mature faith is always visible.

The phrase “boots on the ground” is a military idiom referring to troops being deployed into a conflict zone. Brave soldiers will be physically present in areas where they will meet resistance and struggle.

Christians are called to be Christ’s boots on the ground. That means carrying our faith into places where it isn’t always welcome, and doing so with both courage and care. At some point, faith has to leave the classroom and step onto the battlefield.

That looks different depending on the day. Sometimes it’s helping a neighbor with a project. Sometimes it’s telling someone a hard truth. Sometimes it’s sitting with a person who’s hurting. Sometimes it’s just serving quietly, with no credit at all.

Jesus didn’t only teach about compassion; he touched lepers, fed the hungry, and welcomed the outcast. He put boots on the ground. We’re called to do the same.

So today: don’t just think about your faith, and don’t just talk about it. Act on it. Someone near you needs encouragement, help, hope, or simply to hear about Jesus.

No mission has ever been won from a distance. It takes boots on the ground.