In the children’s message, the kids this week, "What kinds of things have you had to apologize for?" Anecdotes faded into streams of cuteness consciousness. But before he could land the plane, one six-year-old boy blurted the most revealing, unvarnished confession:

"You don't want to say you're sorry because then kids will know that you're weak. And then they'll be even more mean to you."

Mic drop. Childlike wonder, imagination, and naiveté replaced with self-preservation, scarcity, and a heart already learning to callus.

The world is louder than it is accurate, and the truest things are often the most quiet.

Brad Montague wrote that in his Manifesto for Stubborn Optimists, and I can't stop thinking about it. Because right now, injustice screams. Fear accuses. The desperate stampede shouts a single message: save yourself. But underneath all that noise, there's this whisper—the world we know as normal is not the one God intended.

We know that moment when someone became "Mom" or "Dad" to us. Not when we mastered swaddling or figured out sleep schedules—but something deeper. A protective instinct we didn't know existed suddenly emerged. Identity shifted before competence ever caught up. If you ask your child, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" try following up with, "Then what?" Because here's the truth: identity isn't a destination. It's not about arriving at a job title and stopping. It's about becoming.

In Almost Famous, rock journalist Lester Bangs snuck a profound, easily missed confession to his young protégé: "The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you're uncool." Parenting inevitably reveals how the older we get, the less cool we become. But, what could be more unnerving - like realizing a mirror works even when our eyes are closed – is our kids have a front-row seat to our harried moments of long days and late nights of our flawed humanity.

One of the best to kill the vibe of a perfectly good small group is a curriculum. We’ve all been there - discussion narrows, relationships find a polite lane, and learning becomes primarily cognitive. So, what if the “content” was your family (& couple of friends) rehearsing what you believe is true about God?

Spend five minutes with a child you can quickly learn what their family values, expectations, what’s allowed, and what’s frowned upon. Why is that? Because a mirror works even when our eyes are closed.

Arriving before daybreak to immerse myself in the Austin phenomenon that is SXSW, I joined a rising tide of die-hard live music fans. On this morning, everything changed in an instant and it had nothing to do with the performance.

While the Church wrestles with outward cultural relevance, it's also navigating an inward challenge of metrics. Results and fruit, though both valuable, serve distinct purposes. The primary difference is: God doesn't call His people primarily to results—He invites us to bear fruit.

Even if shopping comes easily, an IKEA excursion can expose even the most committed of shoppers. I have a friend who imagines IKEA as the Swedish word for “hell.”…

Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Story famously illustrates these three “time zones” through the ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future. He narrates the Christian vision that even the most Scrooge-like person among us can experience a change of heart.

The Church today is missing a great opportunity to be UNequally yoked. Of course, sameness isn’t bad. It’s just geared toward maintenance rather than growth.

There are two types of strength and neither is automatic, but both are universally available. The first, called Fluid Intelligence, launches our adult mission fueled by passion, concern, talent, and intuition.

Recovering an operating systems that reveals God in us.

What if darkness didn’t just represent fear, evil, and confusion but was also a place of dreams, germination, and deep roots?

Small-Batch Disciplemaking offers a hope-filled, useful “yoke”; a way to animate a living faith, like a relationship to nurture.

The difference between knowledge and knowing is relationship.

Join our conversation to learn more about some of David’s passions: semiotics, spiritual rhythms, small-batch disciple-making, his Norwegian heritage, and more.

Disciplemaking is not about what you know. It’s knowing how to give away what you have already received.

When we remember who we are, we remember what we're capable of.

If you haven’t had the results or things are moving slower than you like, you might be toiling with greatness.