Pass the Baton

06/29/2026

Happy Monday,

I’m praying that with this new week that I step into it with a heart full of gratitude, my eyes fixed on Christ, and a desire to become more like Him in everything I do. I’ve come to recognize every new day is a gift.

I dont know what this week will hold, but I do know Who holds it. He has already gone before us. He already knows every conversation we’ll have, every opportunity we’ll be given, every challenge we’ll face, every victory we’ll celebrate, and every burden we’ll carry. Nothing will take Him by surprise.

So rather than simply reacting to whatever comes our way, may we intentionally walk with Him through it.

Let’s continue to be men who begin each day in His Word, seeking His wisdom before the opinions of the world. Men who pray before we panic. Men who listen before we speak. Men who are quick to encourage, quick to forgive, and quick to give God the glory for every good thing in our lives.

This week we’ll each cross paths with people who are hurting, discouraged, anxious, lonely, or searching for hope. Some we’ll recognize…many we won’t. May the Lord open our eyes to see them, our ears to hear them, and our hearts to love them the way He has loved us.

May we never underestimate what God can do through a simple act of kindness…a listening ear…a quiet prayer…a word of encouragement…or simply being present.

As husbands, may we pursue our wives with the same grace and patience Christ continually shows us.

As sons and believers may we lead not only with our words, but with lives worth following.

As brothers in Christ, may we continue to sharpen one another, pray for one another, challenge one another, and remind each other that none of us walks this road alone.

Let’s continue to go through each day with faith…
Get through each challenge by His strength…
And grow through every circumstance for His glory.

May our lives point people to Jesus—not because we’re extraordinary men, but because we serve an extraordinary Savior.

Father,

Thank You for the blessing of another Monday and another opportunity to walk with You.

Help us never to take this day for granted. Thank You for the breath in our lungs, the families You’ve entrusted to us, the brothers You’ve placed beside us, and the countless ways You faithfully provide for us each and every day.

Lord, order our steps this week. Slow us down enough to recognize the divine appointments You’ve already prepared. Help us to be available when You call, obedient when You lead, courageous when You ask us to step out in faith, and humble enough to give You all the glory.

Strengthen every heart to love well. Strengthen every one of us to lead well. Strengthen every grandfather to leave a legacy of faith. Encourage those who are weary. Lift up those who are discouraged. Heal those who are hurting. Draw near to those who feel alone. Remind each one of us that Your grace is sufficient and Your mercies are new every morning.

Continue to mold us, shape us, refine us, and make us into the men You’ve called us to be. Help us to look a little more like Jesus this Friday than we do today.

And wherever our feet take us this week, may we be salt and light. May we represent You well in our homes, our workplaces, our churches, and our communities.

We love You, Lord. Thank You for never giving up on us and for faithfully completing the work You’ve begun in each of us.

In Jesus’ precious name,

Amen

Praying each of you has a blessed week. Stay close to Him. Stay in His Word. Stay on your knees. Love your families well. Encourage someone every day. And let’s continue to walk shoulder to shoulder, heart to heart, as we go through, get through, and grow through whatever the Lord places before us.

Have an incredible week, ❤️🙏💪

Pass the Baton

05/26/2026

On this Tuesday, but feels like Monday, morning, Father, we come before You with grateful hearts. Thankful for the gift of another day and another opportunity to walk with You. As this new week begins, anchor our hearts in Your presence and steady our minds in Your truth.

Lord, give us strength for every challenge, courage for every unknown, and resilience for every moment that feels heavy. When we are weary, remind us that Your power is made perfect in weakness. Lift every burdened heart and breathe fresh hope into every discouraged spirit.

Fill us with Your peace that calms anxiety, Your joy that rises above circumstances, and Your love that overflows into every conversation, relationship, and responsibility before us today. Help us to walk in faith and not fear, trusting that You are already ahead of us making a way.

Grant us clarity of mind and focus of heart. Keep distractions, confusion, discouragement, and negativity far from us. Help us to remain steadfast, wise, and discerning in every decision we make. Let our thoughts, words, and actions reflect Your character.

Father, strengthen those who feel emotionally drained, physically exhausted, or spiritually weary. Surround them with encouragement, faithful community, and reminders that they are never alone. Let today be marked by divine appointments, unexpected encouragement, and renewed purpose.

Teach us to keep our eyes fixed on You through every success, setback, interruption, and opportunity. May we walk humbly, love deeply, serve faithfully, and trust completely.

We declare this day belongs to You. Lead us by Your Spirit, guard our hearts, and help us carry Your light into the world around us.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” — Book of Joshua 1:9

05/21/2026

There was a man named Will who loved telling people he was “getting healthy.”

He bought the clothes.
Downloaded the fitness apps.
Watched workout videos late at night.
Followed athletes online.
Talked often about discipline, strength, and transformation.

If you asked him, “Do you care about your health?”
He would answer immediately, “Absolutely.”

But the truth was hidden in his daily life.

His gym membership card sat untouched in his wallet.
His refrigerator was filled with junk food.
His running shoes stayed clean.
He talked about fitness far more than he practiced it.

Then one day Will ran into an old friend named Marcus at the grocery store. Marcus looked different — stronger, healthier, alive. There was a peace and consistency about him that Will noticed immediately.

Will asked,
“Man, what’s your secret? What program are you using?”

Marcus smiled and said,
“There’s no secret. I just started living differently every day.”

Will laughed awkwardly.
“No seriously… what changed?”

Marcus looked at him carefully and replied:

“You can’t say you love health while resisting everything that produces it.”

That sentence stayed with Will all night.

A few weeks later Marcus invited him to work out together early one morning. Will almost said no. It was cold. He was tired. The bed felt better than discipline. But something inside him knew Marcus was right.

That morning was brutal.
The workout hurt.
His lungs burned.
His muscles shook.

Afterward Marcus handed him a bottle of water and said:

“Fitness isn’t built by admiration. It’s built by participation.”

Then he added quietly:

“That’s true spiritually too.”

Will went silent.

Marcus continued:

“A lot of people say they love Jesus, but they never spend time with Him.
They say they want a strong faith, but they rarely open the Word.
They say they want peace, wisdom, and intimacy with God, but prayer feels inconvenient.
They want the strength of a mature believer while living on the diet of spiritual junk food.”

Will lowered his eyes because he knew exactly what Marcus meant.

Marcus wasn’t condemning him.
He was revealing something.

“You can tell how deep someone’s relationship with Jesus is the same way you can tell if someone is serious about fitness,” Marcus said.

“Not by what they post.
Not by what they say.
But by what they consistently pursue.”

He continued:

“When someone truly wants physical transformation, they adjust their schedule, appetite, habits, priorities, and discipline around it. Why? Because what you love eventually shapes your life.

And when someone truly loves Christ, you begin seeing evidence of it.

Not perfection.
Not performance.
But pursuit.”

“You begin craving time in His Word.
Prayer stops becoming a religious duty and becomes conversation.
Fellowship stops feeling optional because you realize isolation weakens you.
Conviction becomes a gift instead of an annoyance.
Worship becomes personal.
Obedience becomes love in action.”

Then Marcus said something Will would never forget:

“A starving Christian with three untouched Bibles in the house is like a man dying of weakness while holding a gym membership in his pocket.”

That hit hard.

Because deep down, Will realized he had admired the idea of health more than he had surrendered to the process that creates it.

And many people do the same with Jesus.

They love the idea of salvation.
The idea of peace.
The idea of eternal life.
The idea of God helping them when life falls apart.

But relationships are not built on occasional acknowledgement.
They are built on daily connection.

No marriage survives without communication.
No friendship grows without time together.
No athlete becomes strong without training.

And no believer grows deep roots in Christ without abiding in Him.

Jesus never called people to casually believe in Him from a distance.
He called them to follow Him.
Daily.

To walk with Him.
Know Him.
Seek Him.
Remain in Him.

The truth is, our prayer life, Bible reading, worship, and fellowship are not religious checklists trying to earn God’s love. They are the evidence that we value the relationship.

Because whatever matters to us eventually receives our time, attention, energy, and affection.

Will finally understood something that changed his life:

Transformation doesn’t happen because you occasionally visit the gym.
And spiritual maturity doesn’t happen because you occasionally visit God.

Both are formed through consistency, surrender, discipline, and relationship.

And over time, what you repeatedly pursue is exactly what you become.

05/20/2026

“Love is What Love Does”

There was a time when the words I love you were not spoken often. Many of us grew up in homes where love was assumed more than expressed. We may have known our parents loved us because they worked hard, provided meals, kept a roof over our heads, or showed up when it mattered. But the words themselves were rare. Reserved. Almost uncomfortable.

Then somewhere along the way, culture shifted.

Today, I love you rolls off the tongue with ease. Children say it to their friends at school. Families say it at the end of every phone call. Couples exchange it daily. In many ways, that is beautiful. It is good to express affection. Good to reassure one another. Good to cultivate tenderness in a world that often lacks it.

When Kristen and I were married, I made it a point to tell her I loved her often. We carried that into our home with our children. “Love you” became part of the rhythm of our family. Before leaving the house. Before bed. Hanging up the phone. Passing one another in the hallway. It became woven into the fabric of our relationships.

But over time, I’ve also realized something important.

At the risk of sounding cynical, it seems many have learned to say the words without understanding the weight behind them. The phrase has become so common that it can drift toward becoming little more than a greeting… a salutation… a reflex. Words spoken without depth. Sentiment without sacrifice. Emotion without action.

And yet biblical love was never meant to live merely in speech.

The Word of God continually teaches that love is not proven by what we say, but by what we do.

The Apostle John writes:

“Let us not love in word or in tongue, but in deed and in truth.”
— 1 John 3:18

That verse cuts through the noise of modern expression. It reminds us that love is not measured by vocabulary but by consistency. By presence. By patience. By sacrifice. By forgiveness. By truth. By endurance.

Anyone can say I love you when emotions are high, when relationships are easy, when circumstances are favorable. But real love reveals itself when things become difficult.

Love is staying when walking away would be easier.

Love is listening when you are tired.

Love is serving when no one notices.

Love is telling the truth when compromise would be more comfortable.

Love is extending grace after disappointment.

Love is carrying burdens that do not belong to you simply because someone you care about is struggling beneath them.

Love is choosing covenant over convenience.

Jesus did not merely tell humanity He loved them. He demonstrated it.

The cross is the ultimate declaration that love acts.

Scripture says:

“But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
— Romans 5:8

Notice the language. God demonstrated His love.

Love moved toward us.

Love sacrificed.

Love suffered.

Love endured rejection.

Love washed feet.

Love touched lepers.

Love fed the hungry.

Love wept with the broken.

Love forgave enemies.

Love carried the cross.

And because of that, we must be careful not to reduce love to emotional language alone. Words matter, yes. Encouragement matters. Affection matters. We should say I love you. We should express it freely and sincerely.

But the words should be supported by a life that proves them true.

A husband who says he loves his wife but continually neglects her heart has not yet understood love.

A parent who says they love their children but refuses to guide, correct, protect, or invest in them misunderstands love.

A friend who speaks affection but disappears in times of need offers comfort only in language, not in substance.

Biblical love is not passive sentiment. It is active commitment.

The famous passage in 1 Corinthians 13 does not describe love as a feeling. It describes love through action:

Love is patient.

Love is kind.

Love does not envy.

Love does not boast.

Love keeps no record of wrongs.

Love bears all things.

Believes all things.

Hopes all things.

Endures all things.

These are verbs lived out in relationship. Evidence. Fruit. Substance.

The truth is, love costs something.

It costs pride.

It costs selfishness.

It costs time.

It costs comfort.

Sometimes it costs reputation, sleep, convenience, or emotional energy.

But that is precisely why love is so powerful when it is genuine.

Anyone can speak words.

Not everyone will live them.

In a generation overflowing with expressions yet starving for depth, perhaps what people truly need is not more declarations of love, but more demonstrations of it.

Children need to see love modeled, not merely verbalized.

Marriages need love practiced, not merely promised.

Friendships need loyalty, not simply affectionate language.

The Church needs believers whose love reaches beyond slogans and enters sacrifice.

Because in the end, love is not measured by how often it is spoken, but by how faithfully it is lived.

And maybe that is the lesson we most need to recover:

Love is not just what love says.

Love is what love does.

03/02/2026

The Man God Wouldn’t Let Go Of
What Jacob’s Story Says to Every Man Who’s Failed

To my Son-

I want to talk to you about a man who started out as a manipulator and ended up as a patriarch.

His name was Jacob, I know you’re familiar with who he is. So, if we’re honest… he wasn’t the clean-cut hero type. He was insecure, Competitive with his brother, Always trying to secure his future through control. He grabbed for things instead of trusting for them. From the womb he was grasping. And yet before he ever did anything right — before he stole a birthright, before he deceived his father — God had already spoken:

“The older will serve the younger.”

God chose him before he proved himself.
Let that sit.
Before Jacob succeeded. Before Jacob failed. Before Jacob even knew who he was. God already knew. Jacob was a conniver:
Jacob wanted the blessing — but he tried to force it. He tricked his brother. He deceived his father. He ran for his life. And if we stopped the story there, you’d say, “That guy disqualified himself.” But God didn’t stop the story there. For twenty years Jacob lived with the consequences of his choices. He was deceived by his uncle. Worked harder than he ever imagined. Felt fear, Felt regret. Felt the weight of his own mess. God didn’t erase the consequences.
But He didn’t remove the calling either.

That’s something every man who feels like he’s blown it needs to hear. Failure is not final in the hands of God. Then one night everything changed, a moment in Jacob’s life where he’s alone by a river. He’s about to face his brother — the one he wronged. He’s afraid, And God meets him there. Jacob wrestles all night.
Not with his brother. Not with his past. With God. And when morning comes,

God changes his name to: Israel — “one who wrestles with
God.”

He walks away with a limp.
Not healed of it. Marked by it. And here’s the part that gets me every time…God didn’t rename him after he became perfect. God renamed him after he stopped running and started clinging.

God knew Jacob’s insecurity. God knew his manipulation. God knew his fear. And God still chose him to carry the promise first given to Abraham. Why? Because the covenant was never about perfect men. It was about a faithful God.

Through that flawed man’s lineage would eventually come Jesus Christ. Not because Jacob was spotless. But because God redeems stories.

Let me, say this clearly—
If you feel like:

• You’ve made too many mistakes
• You’ve wasted years
• You’re behind everyone else
• You’re disqualified from leadership
• You’re too inconsistent to be used by God

You are in good company. Jacob’s early life reads like a cautionary tale. But his later life reads like redemption. God didn’t use Jacob because he was polished. He used him because eventually… Jacob stopped scheming and started surrendering. Some men think if God forgives them, He’ll remove all reminders. But often He leaves a limp.
Not to shame you. To humble you. To remind you who carried you through the night. The limp becomes your testimony. It softens you. It deepens you. It keeps you dependent. And in a world full of men pretending to be strong, the man who has wrestled and survived carries a different kind of authority.

For you Ethan—

God knew your wiring before you ever stumbled. He knew the addiction before it surfaced. He knew the insecurity before it spoke. He knew the choices before you made them. And He is not pacing heaven wondering what to do with you now. He is forming you. Jacob wasn’t defined by his worst decision. He was defined by the God who wouldn’t let go of him. You may feel like you’ve grabbed at life trying to secure your own blessing. But there comes a night where you stop grabbing and start holding on. That’s where identity changes. That’s where strength becomes real. That’s where boys begin to become men.

A Word to Every one Reading This:

Your past may explain you. It does not own you. Your failures may mark you. They do not define you. If you are willing to wrestle honestly...If you are willing to cling instead of control… If you are willing to limp instead of pretend… God will write a different ending than you expect. Jacob the deceiver became Israel the father of nations. Not because he cleaned himself up. But because he stayed in the fight with God. And so will you.

Love you.
Keep wrestling.
Don’t let go.

Dad—

Pass the Baton

02/19/2026

Pass the Baton | Letter Five
Strong Enough to Protect. Gentle Enough to Be Trusted.

There’s something I’ve grow to understand and see more clearly over time. It’s not enough to be strong. And it’s not enough to be gentle. We are called to be both.
I’ve shared through my posts and we’ve talked about watching love break… choosing covenant when it would be easier not to… learning the cost of laying down our lives… and making room instead of forcing control.
But this is where it all comes together.

If the people closest to me are not protected by my strength and safe in my presence, something is missing. I’ve had to wrestle with that.
There were seasons when I leaned hard into strength — firm, decisive, steady. But I learned strength without tenderness can create distance. It can feel intimidating even when it’s well-intentioned. I would know.

And then there were seasons when I softened — patient, understanding, careful. But tenderness without courage can leave the people we love unprotected, uncertain, unsupported.

Jesus was never divided inside Himself. He was the Lion — unshaken in truth, unmovable in conviction. And He was the Lamb — gentle, sacrificial, approachable.

Not half of one. Not alternating between the two. Both at the same time.
That’s the kind of man I want to become. And pray the one He’s been molding me into.

Not loud.
Not passive.
Not controlling.
Not disappearing.

But steady. Strong enough to protect what matters. Gentle enough to be trusted with someone’s heart. My wife, my family and my friends.

The world pushes men to extremes, dominate, compete Or withdraw.
Power up. Or shut down. Christ calls us higher. He calls us to integrity of heart — where strength and tenderness live together. So I’ve been sitting with this question myself:

Are the people closest to me both protected by my strength and safe in my presence — or is one of those missing?

Because the measure of love isn’t what I think I’m giving. It’s what they’re experiencing.
And if we get this right — if we learn to be both the lion and the lamb — we don’t just strengthen our marriages.
We pass something down.

We show our sons what courage looks like without cruelty.
We show our daughters what strength looks like without fear.
We show our wives what leadership looks like without control.
This isn’t about perfection. It’s about formation.

And I’m still being formed.

— Cubby
Pass the Baton

02/11/2026

There are seasons in marriage where strength doesn’t look like pushing harder… it looks like softening.

Where love isn’t proven by winning an argument, fixing a problem, or getting your way—
but by making room.
Room for her heart.
Room for her fears.
Room for her story.

I’m still learning that gentleness isn’t weakness.
It’s courage under control.
It’s choosing to understand when it would be easier to defend.
It’s staying present when walking away would feel safer.

Marriage has a way of teaching us things no other relationship can.
It exposes us, stretches us, humbles us—and if we let it—it softens us into better men.

This fourth letter is about that kind of strength.
The strength that makes room.
The strength that listens.
The strength that loves with gentleness and understanding.

If you’re a husband, I hope it speaks to your heart the way it’s been speaking to mine.

—Cubby

Pass the Baton—A Letter to Men (and Those Who Love Them)

With 27 years of marriage behind me, and 6 kids still finding their way, there are things that weigh heavily on me. As a husband, as a father and as a man—

This has been on my heart for a long time. I think we can all agree we’re living in some different days. Days where marriage is disparaged, criticized and questioned, a day where manhood and masculinity has become confusing and relational love often feels fragile or unrealistic.

Many of us grew up watching relationships fracture. We learned how to survive—but not always how to love deeply and stay present.

I’m not writing this as a man who has it all figured out.

I’m writing as a man who has stayed in the fight.

I believe marriage still matters.

I still believe covenant love is real.

I still believe God didn’t make a mistake when He designed men to be both strong and gentle.

Over the next several Mondays, I’ll be sharing a short series of letters—written from the middle, not the mountaintop, not from the valley. Letters shaped by lived experience, Scripture, and the contrast between what the world is showing us and what God has actually called us into.

These aren’t lectures.
They’re invitations.

For men—to reflect, repent where needed, and step more fully into who God is calling us to be.

For couples—to slow down, listen, and remember what covenant love was meant to look like.

If you’re tired of shallow definitions of love…
If you’re still willing to fight for faith, marriage, and family…

I pray the letters will encourage you, equip you and empower you...

To live out a covenant marriage,
Love well,
And Pass the Baton.

02/11/2026

Pass the Baton | Letter Four —
“I Thought Love Meant Leading—It Turns Out It Meant Listening”

One of my biggest break throughs in my thinking, my heart and ultimately our relationship came when I learned that Love doesn’t just ask us to stay.
It asks us to make room.

Room for emotions that don’t make sense to us.
Room for timing that doesn’t match ours.
Room for conversations we’d rather postpone.
Room for differences that aren’t meant to be fixed.

I used to think loving well meant having answers—
being steady, strong, decisive.

But I’ve learned that some of the most important moments in our marriage didn’t need my strength as much as they needed my gentleness.

There were times when my instinct was to explain, correct, or solve—when what was actually needed was presence. Times when my tone mattered more than my point. Times when listening without having to have a solution or an answer was the most loving thing I could do.

The world tells us that power looks like control.
God keeps showing me that love looks like understanding.

Scripture says husbands are called to live with their wives “in an understanding way.” I used to hear that as a responsibility. Now I hear it as an invitation—to slow down, to pay attention, to treat her heart as something entrusted to me, not something to manage.

Making room doesn’t mean agreeing with everything.
It means honoring someone even when you don’t.

It means recognizing that emotional safety is not created by volume or certainty—but by patience, consistency, and restraint.

I’ve had to ask myself some uncomfortable questions:

Does my presence create calm—or tension?
Do my words and tone invite openness—or shutdown?
Am I listening to understand—or listening to respond?

Gentleness isn’t weakness.
It’s strength that knows when not to push.

And understanding isn’t passive.
It takes effort, curiosity, and humility.

The world tells us to protect our space, defend our position, and stand our ground. God calls us to something deeper—to create space where love can breathe.

I’m learning that when a man makes room—when he softens his tone, slows his pace, and stays curious—love has a chance to grow where it once felt fragile.

If you’re like me, this doesn’t come naturally.
It has to be practiced.

So I’m sitting with this question—and maybe you need to sit with it too:

Am I making room for the people I love—or asking them to shrink to fit me?

Love that lasts isn’t loud.
It’s attentive.

And when we learn to make room,
we don’t just strengthen our relationships—
we reflect the heart of Christ.

— Cubby
Pass the Baton

02/03/2026

Pass the Baton | Letter Three — The Cost of Loving Well

There’s a part of loving that no one really prepares you for. We hear the verse—

“Husbands, love your wives as Christ loved the church and gave Himself up for her”

and it sounds noble… almost heroic.
But living it is quieter than that. And heavier. I’ve learned that laying down your life rarely looks dramatic.
It looks daily. It looks unseen. It looks like choosing restraint when reaction would feel justified.
It looks like staying engaged when you’re tired, misunderstood, or not affirmed.

If I’m honest, this is where love has stretched me the most. There have been moments when I wanted love to cost less— less patience, less humility, less self-denial.
Moments when I wanted to be appreciated, validated, affirmed, respected before I laid anything down.
There were moments when I wondered if giving any more of myself meant I’d lose myself.

But the Word keeps pulling me back to Christ. Jesus didn’t wait until love was reciprocated, He gave Himself without asking for anything in return. He didn’t measure sacrifice by outcome. He laid down His life because that’s what love does. We only know love because He loved us first.
And that’s hard to sit with for most of us.

Laying down your life doesn’t me you loose yourself —it just means you stop leading from a guarded place.” I’ve had to learn the difference between dying to myself and forgetting who I am. God never asks us to vanish. He asks us to be formed.

The world tells us: “Don’t give too much.” “Guard your heart.” “Make sure you’re getting yours.” But Scripture tells us:
“There is no greater love than this—to lay down your life for another.”

That kind of love isn’t weakness. It’s strength under control. It’s choosing faithfulness over fairness. Presence over pride. Obedience over outcome And here’s what I’m still learning—laying down your life doesn’t mean you won’t feel the weight. It means you choose to carry it with God instead of throwing it back on the people you love. This isn’t a call to martyrdom. It’s a call to maturity. To show up when it would be easier to shut down. To soften when hardening would feel safer. To love without keeping score.

If you’re feeling tired in your love right now, you’re not failing. You’re being invited deeper. To deeper water and higher ground.

So I ask myself—and maybe you need to ask yourself too: What am I holding onto that God is asking me to lay down—not to lose myself, but to become more like Him?

Love costs.
But it also forms.
And every time we choose to lay down our lives in small, faithful ways,
we pass on something far greater than words. We pass on the way of Christ and love well.

— Cubby

Lord,
Help us discern when love is calling us to deny ourselves, and when fear is causing us to protect ourselves. Give us strength to live out who You made us to be. Give us the courage to lay down what we need to— not out of guilt, but out of love. Form us through the cost, and help us love the way You love us—
faithfully, humbly, and present.
Amen.

Pass the Baton