Far From Perfect. Still Showing Up.

Faith was a big part of my life growing up. I was a leader in our youth group, sang in the church choir, and often found myself in the pulpit of my church and others, sharing sermons and stories that touched people's lives. When I entered college, I wanted to become a youth minister. I could see a future helping young people grow closer to God.

But in college, I found a freedom I'd never known existed. And I "enjoyed" the college experience.

My priorities shifted. The future I'd pictured in ministry grew more distant as I explored doing things my own way. That carried into my working years as I built a career and pursued professional growth. During those years, I also went through a failed marriage.

Then, when I was 30, my dad died suddenly while my mom was battling cancer.

I was MAD.

Dad was supposed to be there. We were supposed to stand beside Mom and fight with her. I needed him. Losing him in the middle of that left me hurting, angry, and full of questions. I directed a lot of that anger toward God.

Through these years, I drank, smoked, cussed, caroused, and made plenty of choices I wish I'd handled differently. The hurt was real, and the choices were mine. I own them.

My faith kept moving through a familiar cycle. I would "find" it again, grow closer to God, live better, and feel like I was finally headed in the right direction. Then, slowly, I would drift. My priorities would shift. Old habits would creep back in. Sometimes pain pushed me away. Sometimes I simply stopped making room for Him.

That happened many times, across many years.

Eventually, God got my attention again in a way that hurt deeply. This time, something began to sink in that I had struggled to understand before.

I had treated faith like an all-in or all-out proposition. When I fell short, I let that failure become another reason to pull away. I'm learning that I can bring my failures to Him and keep growing. He already knows how flawed I am.

And I am far from perfect.

I still struggle with my words, my reactions, my patience, and my desire to handle everything myself. I spend less time with God than I want to. I can know what I should do and still fall short. There is a lot of growing left for me to do.

Living for Him means working at that relationship every day. Trying to be an example in how I treat people. Owning it when I get something wrong. Turning toward Him when life gets hard, especially when my instinct is to run or reach for something that will only make things worse.

It also means looking for whatever good I can find, even when it takes time to see it. Some days, that's simply recognizing the love of someone who showed up or finding enough strength to take the next step.

Today, I'm a husband walking beside my wife through serious health struggles. There are prayers I struggle to put into words and days when fear takes up more room than I want to admit. God keeps showing Himself to me through it all, even when my faith feels small.

And I'm a dad, trying to support my kids in a world that can be incredibly hard for their generation.

I grew up hearing things like "Suck it up," "Put your big-boy pants on," and "Rub some dirt on it." Those responses can come easily when they're what you've always known. I'm learning to slow down, listen, and understand what my kids are carrying before I decide what they need to hear.

Sometimes they need encouragement to keep going. Sometimes they need me to sit with them, take their struggles seriously, and make sure they know they can come to me. I'm still learning the difference. I get that wrong sometimes, too.

I need grace in my parenting, in my marriage, in my words, and in the way I treat people. I need God's help to give that same grace to others.

There is a very imperfect person behind these designs who needs every one of these reminders. Some days, I need the words on my shirt before I've even made it out the door.

I'm still working to live them. Still learning to pray sooner, listen longer, and come back to Him when I stumble. God shows Himself to me daily, and I want to keep getting better at recognizing Him and responding.

My hope is that something here meets you where you are. Maybe it helps you take a breath, say a prayer, offer someone grace, or turn toward God in a moment when you would normally pull away.

Monday brings work, waiting rooms, worried kids, hard conversations, and ordinary moments where we get another opportunity to practice what we believe.

I'm still growing through those moments, too.

Because we need Him on Monday, too.