Like the psalmist, I am searching, yearning, and trying to make sense of my internal wilderness. No matter how many voices I seek or pages I turn, I can’t escape the dryness within. There are moments when I feel like I am circling an oasis that remains just out of reach. The more I search for answers, the more I become aware of my own longing—the aching gap between where I am and the peace I desperately seek.

In the midst of that unending thirst, Psalm 23’s promise offers a different kind of hope: “The Lord is my Shepherd [to feed, to guide and to shield me], I shall not want.” This struck me—not as a quick fix, but as a slow, steady invitation. Unlike the frantic seeking, the Shepherd’s presence is not something I have to chase; it is already here, patiently waiting to guide me.

4. “He makes me lie down in [fresh, tender] green pastures; He leads me beside the still and restful waters.” For someone parched and restless, these words paint a picture of rest that I hadn’t imagined for myself. What would it mean to be led to still waters—not through striving or searching, but by trusting the guidance of the Shepherd? Could I find the courage to let go of my desperate grasping and allow myself to be led?

The transition from seeking to being guided doesn’t happen overnight. It is (and remains) a process—a journey of learning to trust that, even when I feel lost, God is leading me. Those green pastures and still waters don’t erase the questions or the scars, but they offer space to breathe, to be seen, and to be cared for by the One who truly knows me. I am beginning to see that the answers I seek might not come in the form of quick solutions but through a relationship of trust and surrender.

“Even though I walk through the [sunless] valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me.” There are still valleys—deep and dark ones—and I am still in the midst of walking through them. I haven’t escaped depression; it remains part of my journey. Studying the Psalms helps me understand not only my own experience but also the struggles others have faced. Each psalm reveals facets of anguish, seeking, and hope. This journey—from anguish to petition and eventually to celebration—gives me reason to believe that gratitude and joy are possible. It is a truth I am learning to trust, step by step.

The Shepherd wants to guide me, even now, through the rocky terrain of life. He wants to lead me—not from a distance, but closely, step by step. When I have moments of tranquility, moments of true peace, it isn’t because I read a book or spoke with a therapist. Don’t get me wrong—those are good answers, the best answers humans can offer. But the deepest peace comes when I let the Shepherd navigate. It is He who leads me to the secret spots where the waters are calm, where I can rest without fear. It is in those moments that I realize His guidance isn’t just theoretical; it is real, present, and sustaining in ways no other solution can match.

What is it about a calm stream that seems to provide peace to all humanity? Why are there certain things that we, as a collective, can all agree upon as being beautiful? Every day at five o’clock, I go outside here in Tennessee to watch the sun setting. I talk into my phone, capturing the swirl of thoughts and feelings that emerge as I reflect and jot down ideas for these articles. There is something about the majesty of creation that puts the soul at ease—a reminder that there is more to this life than our struggles, that there is beauty beyond the chaos. Just as the Shepherd leads us to still waters, creation itself offers moments that still us, inviting us to pause, breathe, and find rest. It’s in these moments that I remember: I am being guided, I am not alone, and there is a journey still unfolding. Tomorrow, we will explore this idea further as we reflect on Psalm 19 and the majesty of creation declaring God’s glory.

Psalm 23

1 The Lord is my Shepherd [to feed, to guide and to shield me], I shall not want.
2 He makes me lie down in [fresh, tender] green pastures; He leads me beside the still and restful waters.
3 He refreshes and restores my soul (life); He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.
4 Even though I walk through the [sunless] valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod [to protect] and Your staff [to guide], they comfort and console me.
5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You have anointed my head with [oil]; my cup overflows.
6 Surely goodness and mercy and unfailing love shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell forever [throughout all my days] in the house and in the presence of the Lord.

In these moments, I became a character in a horror movie. The camera angle narrowed my vision, focusing solely on my terror, blinding me to everything else. I was frozen, unable to see the world around me, unable to grasp anything solid to pull myself out of the panic. My mouth went dry, my lips cracked, and I felt like I had swallowed sand. There was no relief, no escape—just a desperate longing for something, anything, to bring me peace.

I would try to fight it off, to muster the strength of an athlete or a warrior. I’d brace myself, push forward, pretend I was in control. But the truth was, I was drowning. Waves of anxiety crashed over me, one after another, leaving me gasping for breath. Then, when the tide of fear receded, depression would follow, washing me out to sea again. I was caught in a cycle that left me desiccated, a husk of who I once was.

Therapy became a lifeline—a small glimmer of hope in the midst of the storm. My therapist guided me to confront what I feared most. In one session, I saw a part of myself as a desiccated husk—a mummy, a scarecrow stripped of life, completely drained. It felt all too real, and the weight of that image broke something inside me. I wept, not just for the person I had become, but for the connection I craved and couldn’t find.

Psalm 42 speaks to this kind of longing: “My tears have been my food day and night.” I lived this verse. There were days when tears seemed like the only sustenance I could muster. I lost weight rapidly, unable to eat or drink. The hunger and thirst I felt weren’t just physical; they were spiritual. I was searching for something deeper, something to fill the emptiness inside. But no person, no human connection, could truly satisfy that ache.

I often wondered why I felt so lost, why my soul was so disturbed within me. The psalmist’s words echoed my own questions: “Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me?” I sought answers in every direction, questioning what was wrong with me, why I couldn’t seem to get relationships right. It felt like I was standing on unstable ground, trying to find footing where none existed.

The most disorienting part was realizing that I was seeking something from people that no one could truly give. I longed for connection, for love, for acceptance—but I was asking too much of others. No one person can carry the weight of being our source of calm and stillness. It’s a burden too great for any human soul. And so I stood, like a deer panting for water, desperately seeking what only God could provide.

“Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers have swept over me.” I know what it is to be swept away, to feel as though the world is too much. But even in the depths, there is a glimmer of hope. Psalm 42 isn’t just about despair; it’s about longing that leads us somewhere. It’s about the thirst that drives us to seek the one source who can truly quench it.

As we move through this week, I invite you to sit with this longing, to acknowledge the places in your life where you feel dry, unseen, or abandoned. Psalm 42 reminds us that the deep thirst we experience is not a sign of weakness but an invitation—a call to seek something greater than ourselves. The psalmist, in his longing and despair, ultimately directs his cries to God, yearning for His presence as the only true source of living water. This longing sets the stage for what comes next, for the promise found in Psalm 23—that we are not alone in our seeking. The same God who hears our desperate cries in the wilderness also leads us beside still waters, restoring our soul. The journey from spiritual dryness to finding true rest and comfort is a narrative arc we will continue to trace together, from anguish to awe, from longing to fulfillment.

Psalm 42 (AMP)

1 As the deer pants [longingly] for the water brooks,
So my soul pants [longingly] for You, O God.
2 My soul (my life, my inner self) thirsts for God, for the living God.
When will I come and see the face of God?

3 My tears have been my food day and night,
While they say to me all day long, "Where is your God?"

4 These things I [earnestly] remember and pour myself out within me:
How I used to go along before the great crowd [of people]
And lead them in procession to the house of God,
With the voice of joy and thanksgiving, a great crowd keeping a festival.

5 Why are you in despair, O my soul?
And why have you become restless and disturbed within me?
Hope in God and wait expectantly for Him, for I shall again praise Him
[For the help of] His presence.

6 O my God, my soul is in despair within me [the burden more than I can bear];
Therefore I will [fervently] remember You from the land of the Jordan
And the [summits of Mount] Hermon, from Mount Mizar.

7 Deep calls to deep at the [thundering] sound of Your waterfalls;
All Your breakers and Your waves have rolled over me.

8 Yet the Lord will command His lovingkindness in the daytime,
And in the night His song will be with me,
A prayer to the God of my life.

9 I will say to God my rock, "Why have You forgotten me?
Why do I go mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?"

10 As a crushing [of my bones] with a sword, my adversaries taunt me,
While they say continually to me, "Where is your God?"

11 Why are you in despair, O my soul?
And why have you become restless and disturbed within me?
Hope in God and wait expectantly for Him, for I shall yet praise Him,
The help of my countenance and my God.

Have you ever opened an old photo album and found yourself reflecting on the moments captured in time? Birthdays, graduations, weddings, sporting events—each snapshot carries a story. Some are bright and full of smiles; others remind us of hardships, resilience, and how far we've come. Today, as we close this first week’s journey, we turn to Psalm 30:5: “For His anger is but for a moment, His favor is for a lifetime. Weeping may endure for a night, but a shout of joy comes in the morning.” This verse serves as a snapshot—a reminder that our moments of darkness do not last forever.

Life is filled with cycles and transitions, and so is our relationship with God as reflected in the Psalms. Across 150 psalms, there are moments of anguish, cries for help, recognition of God's grandeur, and celebrations of gratitude. These are like the milestones of life—snapshots in a spiritual album we all share. This week’s journey traced a path from the depth of isolation in Psalm 88, where the psalmist’s anguish culminates in the haunting words, “My friends and loved ones have left me; darkness is my only companion” (Psalm 88:18). We moved to seeking understanding in Psalm 139, where the psalmist’s heart petitioned for deliverance and direction, and then to Psalm 8, filled with awe for God’s majestic creation. Each moment is a step in the narrative that binds us to God and to each other.

The power of this cycle lies in its repetition. Just as we might see similar photos of birthdays or graduations across different families, the Psalms reflect shared experiences that are universally human. The psalmist writes from a place of deep anguish: “Weeping may endure for a night…” Haven't we all faced nights like this? Psalm 88 speaks to that depth—moments when the only companion seems to be darkness. But Psalm 30 offers a promise: “…but a shout of joy comes in the morning.” This journey from sorrow to joy is the heartbeat of our spiritual lives. When you find yourself lost in a dark night, remember that joy is not far off. It’s a promise woven into the fabric of our relationship with God.

Our focus today is gratitude—genuine, full-hearted thanksgiving for God’s deliverance. Psalm 30 captures this beautifully: “You have turned my mourning into dancing; You have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy.” Think of your own moments of deliverance, the times when despair gave way to hope, and sorrow turned to joy. This transformation is not just a personal experience but a part of a larger narrative—a cycle we see repeated in the Psalms and in our own lives.

Let’s return to the photo album analogy. Imagine flipping through pictures of joyous celebrations, moments of pain, victories, and quiet reflections. While every person’s album is unique, there are common threads that unite us—just as the Psalms reflect universal moments of human interaction with God. When you read through the Psalms this month, let these snapshots remind you that your journey—your moments of anguish, seeking, praise, and gratitude—is shared by countless others who have walked the same path.

The narrative in the Psalms reveals a cycle: anguish and isolation, petition and seeking God, recognition of His greatness, and then gratitude and thanksgiving. Psalm 88 reminds us of those moments of despair; Psalm 139 reveals the vulnerable petition to a God who knows us so intimately; and Psalm 8 brings us to the awe-inspiring realization of God’s majesty. This cycle mirrors life itself. Today, as we reflect on Psalm 30, we celebrate the joy that follows mourning, the healing that follows pain. Even when darkness seems endless, there is a morning of joy waiting for us—a promise testified in the lives of those who have gone before us.

Do you see this? This is the story we will tell together throughout this month—a journey from despair to celebration, from isolation to connection, and ultimately, to a place of gratitude. No matter where you are in this journey, remember that the goal is not to remain in the dark but to reach the place where we can lift our voices and give thanks. Gratitude is not just the ending—it is a destination we are continually invited to reach.

As we close out this week and prepare for what lies ahead, take a moment to reflect on your own snapshots—your moments of sorrow, of seeking, of recognizing God’s hand, and of gratitude. May Psalm 30 remind you that while weeping may endure for a night, there is always joy waiting in the morning. Let us journey together, finding hope, seeking God’s guidance, celebrating His majesty, and giving thanks for His deliverance.

Psalm 30 (AMP)

Thanksgiving for Deliverance from Death

1 I will extol and praise You, O Lord, for You have lifted me up,
And have not let my enemies rejoice over me.
2 O Lord my God,
I cried to You for help, and You have healed me.
3 O Lord, You have brought my life up from Sheol (the nether world, the place of the dead);
You have kept me alive, so that I would not go down to the pit (grave).
4 Sing to the Lord, O you His godly ones,
And give thanks at the mention of His holy name.

5 For His anger is but for a moment,
His favor is for a lifetime.
Weeping may endure for a night,
But a shout of joy comes in the morning.

6 As for me, in my prosperity I said,
“I shall never be moved.”
7 By Your favor and grace, O Lord,
You have made my mountain stand strong;
When You hid Your face, I was horrified.
8 I called to You, O Lord,
And to the Lord I made supplication (specific request).
9 “What profit is there in my blood (death), if I go down to the pit (grave)?
Will the dust praise You?
Will it declare Your faithfulness?
10 “Hear, O Lord, be gracious and show favor to me;
O Lord, be my helper.”
11 You have turned my mourning into dancing for me;
You have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
12 That my soul may sing praise to You and not be silent.
O Lord my God, I will give thanks to You forever.

Even though depression demanded that I keep the blinds drawn, a light announced itself in front of my eyes, urging me to look up from the cavern that was enveloping me. This figurative flickering was just enough to draw my attention away from my own suffering, my indominable isolation. It wasn’t an audible command but a celestial covenant that I am known! That I am seen! and suddenly the tiny light sparked into an actual blaze of a thought! Psalm 139:1 “You have searched me, LORD and you know me”. God’s gaze wasn’t distant; it was focused, attentive. In that moment, I grasped that being known was more than being observed—it meant being significant, cared for, even in the silence.

Convinced of this “new” truth, I had to escape this prison that depression had bound me too for so many hours . I rose slowly, splashed cold water on my face, and stepped outside. The walk was laborious, each step a reminder of my struggle, but as I looked up, the sky unfolded before me and despite the darkness of the night sky there was an illumination, a vast expanse of stars and a bright, unobscured moon. This was no accident. This grandeur had purpose, intention.

I stood beneath the stars, the cool breeze brushing my skin—a rare gift in the thick Southern air—and I knew that if the God who made this sky cared enough to craft every detail, then His care extended to me. Psalm 8:4 came to life, “What is man that You are mindful of him?” I was no longer a speck lost in darkness; I was seen and known by the Creator Himself.

The aperture of light opened wider, illuminating more than just my own small existence. In Psalm 8:2, even infants and nursing babes declare His strength. Their vulnerable, imperfect words echo the love spoken over them. I, too, in my weakness, began to whisper the words God had spoken of me, like a child attempting to mimic the loving words of their parents. Each utterance drew me closer to the truth of His majesty and care.

Slowly, as the weight of darkness lifted, the awe I felt gave way to something deeper—a recognition that I was not merely seen; I was made to reflect God’s image, to bear His light. He did not create me to remain pinned down in isolation, but to rise and be known as His own.

The refrain of Psalm 8, “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic and glorious and excellent is Your name in all the earth,” became my lullaby. It framed my journey from darkness to light, from being consumed by my own struggles to being captivated by His greatness. Speaking His name lifted my eyes above my pain, reminding me that the One who made the stars knows my name.

Eventually, I found myself standing on a small hill near my neighborhood, arms outstretched, tears streaming down my face. But this time, they were not tears of despair. They were tears of hope, of knowing that while my circumstances were not perfect, the promise of morning held joy. “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning” (Psalm 30:5). And with that realization, I knew the darkness was not my end—it was simply a passage toward light.

Psalm 8 (AMP)

1. O Lord, our Lord,
   How majestic and glorious and excellent is Your name in all the earth!
   You have displayed Your splendor above the heavens.

2. Out of the mouths of infants and nursing babes You have established strength
   Because of Your adversaries,
   That You might silence the enemy and make the revengeful cease.

3. When I see and consider Your heavens, the work of Your fingers,
   The moon and the stars, which You have established;

4. What is man that You are mindful of him,
And the son of [earthborn] man that You care for him?

5. Yet You have made him a little lower than God,
   And You have crowned him with glory and honor.

6. You made him to have dominion over the works of Your hands;
   You have put all things under his feet,

7. All sheep and oxen,
   And also the beasts of the field,

8. The birds of the air, and the fish of the sea,
   Whatever passes through the paths of the seas.

9. O Lord, our Lord,
   How majestic and glorious and excellent is Your name in all the earth!

Looking back now, I was waiting for someone to save me. Hoping that someone could see what I was experiencing. I put my trust in people, wanting them to understand, to somehow know what I couldn’t fully explain. But how could they? How could anyone really perceive another person’s pain? In those moments, when no one could reach me, I felt like I was slipping further into the dark.

When depression pulls us to the edge, it would be a comfort to have someone there, someone close enough to feel (if not bear) the weight with us. But even when no one comes, there is One who is always present. Was it a mistake to put my trust, my salvation into the hands of people who I knew loved me?

First, Very Slowly, Then, All at Once

In that darkness, as depression weighed heavier, there was a moment—a memory, almost forgotten—that flickered in my mind. I clung to it, just a faint thought at first, like a small beam of light piercing the dark. I remembered something: God is all-knowing. It was as if, for a brief second, the truth of who He is broke through the haze. I whispered it to myself, hardly more than a thought—‘He knows me.’

If He knows me, then He knows I’m here, in this bed, feeling alone.

And if He knows I’m here, then He knows I don’t want to be alone.

And if He knows that…

Maybe He is here with me, even now . . .

Because He loves me . . .

This truth, hidden beneath the weight of all the pain, was like a secret finally revealed. It was as if God was reminding me, quietly, that His presence is closer than I could imagine—even when I couldn’t feel it.”

“please . . . see me!”

“In that endless struggle to keep myself together, there came a moment when I knew I couldn’t do it alone. I couldn’t keep everything from falling apart with my own strength. So, I stopped. I let myself be seen. At first, it was just a silent plea—a desperate hope to be visible, to be known in all my brokenness. And then, in a quiet transformation, I realized that I was seen. He saw me. Somehow, without words, that final request—to be seen—had already been answered. How ironic, that this was the very cry of Psalm 139:23 ‘Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.’”

And it was only then that I could finally ask, as the psalmist did: ‘Search me, God, and know my heart.’ This was the answer all along, written into His Word, as if Psalm 139 had always been waiting for me to understand. I realize now that it doesn’t mean the moment of anguish will be any easier the next time it comes. But it does mean that when that moment comes again, there is an answer. There is a place to bring that anguish—a petition to ask God to meet me, to know me, to guide me through it.

For it is written, and has been written all along: we are not alone in this battle. Once we come to this realization, we’ll recognize the dozens of psalms—the psalms of lament, the songs written in tears—that express the personal anguish of humanity’s story. They capture the feeling of abandonment, confusion, and loneliness. Yet, for every psalm that reflects this state of despair, there is an equal number that encourages us to seek God through petition and guidance. And that is what Psalm 139 is: a small beam of light piercing the darkness of the anxious heart. If we hold Psalm 139 close, we can turn on its light when we lie in our darkest room, waiting to be saved. It may not look like we imagined, but it is exactly as it was intended.

Psalm 139 (AMP)

1. O Lord, You have searched me and known me.

2. You know when I sit down and when I rise up [my entire life, everything I do]; You understand my thought from afar.

3. You scrutinize my path and my lying down, And You are intimately acquainted with all my ways.

4. Even before there is a word on my tongue [still unspoken], Behold, O Lord, You know it all.

5. You have enclosed me behind and before, And [You have] placed Your hand upon me.

6. Such [infinite] knowledge is too wonderful for me; It is too high [above me], I cannot reach it.

7. Where can I go from Your Spirit? Or where can I flee from Your presence?

8. If I ascend to heaven, You are there; If I make my bed in Sheol (the nether world, the place of the dead), behold, You are there.

9. If I take the wings of the dawn, If I dwell in the remotest part of the sea,

10. Even there Your hand will lead me, And Your right hand will take hold of me.

11. If I say, “Surely the darkness will cover me, And the night will be the only light around me,”

12. Even the darkness is not dark to You and conceals nothing from You, But the night shines as bright as the day; Darkness and light are alike to You.

13. For You formed my innermost parts; You knit me [together] in my mother’s womb.

14. I will give thanks and praise to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Wonderful are Your works, And my soul knows it very well.

15. My frame was not hidden from You, When I was being formed in secret, And intricately and skillfully formed [as if embroidered with many colors] in the depths of the earth.

16. Your eyes have seen my unformed substance; And in Your book were all written The days that were appointed for me, When as yet there was not one of them [even taking shape].

17. How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God! How vast is the sum of them!

18. If I could count them, they would outnumber the sand. When I awake, I am still with You.

19. O that You would kill the wicked, O God; Go away from me, therefore, men of bloodshed.

20. For they speak against You wickedly, Your enemies take Your name in vain.

21. Do I not hate those who hate You, O Lord? And do I not loathe those who rise up against You?

22. I hate them with perfect and utmost hatred; They have become my enemies.

23. Search me [thoroughly], O God, and know my heart; Test me and know my anxious thoughts;
24. And see if there is any wicked or hurtful way in me, And lead me in the everlasting way.

How long can one person lay in bed, paralyzed, pinned down by the weight of the world, vacuum sealed, trapped, Velcroed to your mattress? Have you ever struggled to pull yourself up from beneath the weight of the covers, only to feel gravity pulling you back, then you know what I mean. It’s not just the invisible weight that burdens you—it’s the crushing isolation. It feels like diving into the deep sea, where each meter brings an intensity of pressure against your body, deeper and deeper, until every movement becomes a battle. That’s what depression can feel like, and perhaps what the author of Psalm 88 felt too.

"You have removed lover and friend far from me; my familiar friends are in darkness." (Psalm 88:18, AMP).

These words cut to the heart of isolation. I remember laying in a room, alone, on a twin mattress on the floor, swallowed by emptiness in the middle of the day. Even though it was bright outside, my soul was in darkness. Psalm 88 doesn’t reach for comfort or offer relief; it’s a whimper from a soul that feels abandoned, meeting us in the pit of despair without promising an escape.

Faith doesn’t always give us answers, and Psalm 88 is a reminder of that. This psalm doesn’t wrap itself up with a hopeful ending or even a sliver of light. Instead, it plunges us deeper into the experience of anguish, where every breath feels like a struggle, and every prayer is filled with desperation. Have you ever felt so low that calling out to anyone, let alone God, feels exhausting? Like each word that tries to escape your dry mouth and parched lips is as difficult as lifting a heavy piece of awkward furniture? This psalm is the voice of a soul that feels pummeled by the relentless waves of suffering, only able to whisper a plea without the strength to question why.

We know the name of the man who wrote this psalm: Heman the Ezrahite. And while I don’t know much else about him, I do know that a man who wrote these words felt the weight of the world pressing down on him. As the scriptures were written, selected, and spoken, over and over again, those reading Heman’s words must have experienced something similar—his place of deep loneliness and isolation. In an attempt to make a recording for this article, I read through Psalm 88 no less than 30 times. Each reading helped me feel less alone, connecting my own dark days to his. There’s a familiarity in his words, a sense that he understands the depths I’ve been to. Psalm 88 is perhaps the darkest of psalms, unflinching in its raw, exposed feeling of being cut off—not just from people, but from God Himself.

Our world rarely gives us permission to feel deep despair. Instead, we’re encouraged to stay positive, move on, or keep our chin up. Some might say, “God’s got this,” as if that’s all we need to hear. But Psalm 88 is different. It doesn’t offer any “bright side” or easy answers. Instead, it lets us sit fully in the darkness, showing us that even our deepest pain can be laid out before God. Heman’s words come from a place so low that every bit of strength he has left goes into this one final breathless cry to God.

Think about those words: You have removed lover and friend far from me. My familiar friends are in darkness. I feel cut off from your hand. I am a castaway. If Heman has felt this way, then you or someone you know probably has too. The words “cast away” and “cut off” carry a weight that many people can relate to but may rarely express. Isolation like this can feel like standing at the edge of a pit, staring into something dark and endless, wondering if there’s anything to hold onto. Sometimes allowing people to sit in that darkness may be important for their journey to connect with God. But we have to remember that those who feel cast away likely don’t have the strength to reach out. They’re not coming to us, so we have to find the strength to go to them.

As we move forward to Psalm 139, we’ll find a different tone. Tomorrow, we’ll see that while Heman felt cut off, Psalm 139 reassures us that God searches us and knows us deeply. It’s the opposite of abandonment. Where Psalm 88 holds space for anguish, Psalm 139 invites us into closeness and comfort. Together, these psalms mirror the journey from isolation to connection with God.

Psalm 88 (AMP Version)

1. O Lord, the God of my salvation, I have cried out [for help] by day and in the night before You.

2. Let my prayer come before You and enter into Your presence; Incline Your ear to my cry!

3. For my soul is full of troubles, and my life draws near the grave (Sheol, the place of the dead).

4. I am counted among those who go down to the pit (grave); I am like a man who has no strength [a mere shadow],

5. [Cast away] among the dead, like the slain who lie in a [nameless] grave, whom You no longer remember, and they are cut off from Your hand.

6. You have laid me in the lowest pit, in dark places, in the depths.

7. Your wrath has rested heavily upon me, and You have afflicted me with all Your waves. Selah

8. You have put my friends far from me; You have made me an object of loathing to them. I am shut up and I cannot go out.

9. My eye grows dim with sorrow. O Lord, I have called on You every day; I have spread out my hands to You [in prayer].

10. Will You perform wonders for the dead? Shall the departed spirits arise and praise You? Selah

11. Will Your lovingkindness be declared in the grave or Your faithfulness in Abaddon (the underworld)?

12. Will Your wonders be known in the darkness and Your righteousness in the land of forgetfulness [where the dead forget and are forgotten]?

13. But I have cried out to You, O Lord, for help; and in the morning my prayer will come to You.

14. O Lord, why do You reject me? Why do You hide Your face from me?

15. I was afflicted and close to death from my youth on; I suffer Your terrors; I am overcome.

16. Your fierce wrath has swept over me; Your terrors have destroyed me.

17. They have surrounded me like floodwaters all day long; they have completely encompassed me.

18. You have removed lover and friend far from me; My familiar friends are in darkness.

It wasn’t that something began to crumble—it was that there was already a crumbling, an erosion revealing itself beneath the surface. And the reason it was crumbling was because the foundation had never been strong in the first place. That truth had never been shown to me, had never occurred to me, until that year when I first experienced the void and the anguish. As my foundation began to shift, parts of me began to fall apart. My exterior began to crack and crumble, revealing the strain of what was built underneath. On the surface, my life had seemed so secure, so solid. But underneath, what truly lay at the foundation was an existence built on trying to please people, a life structured around the hope of meeting everyone’s needs but my own. Working at the church—the very job that should have fulfilled this purpose—didn’t bring me happiness at all. It was a paradigm shift, a realization that the life I thought was strong had been held together by something as insubstantial as vapors. This was a painful awakening to my own fragility, a glimpse into a foundation that was built on pleasing others, and it left me questioning my own place in the world.

But all of these words, this understanding of what lay beneath, was still a mystery to me then. I didn’t know why I felt such emptiness, such disillusionment. So I shoveled dirt over the whole experience and walked away, returning to teaching and then ultimately to coaching, leaving it all buried there to be rediscovered another day.

After that year at the church, life seemed to return to normal. I moved into collegiate coaching, my relationships appeared stable, and my job felt secure. But there was still something underneath, a void quietly beckoning to me. It lay hidden beneath the surface, biding its time. It took nearly a decade before it reemerged, before the life I had built—so dependent on meeting the needs of others—could no longer bear the strain. And this time, it wasn’t just a mental weight; my body began to fall apart as well. For about five years, I searched for answers, trying to understand what was happening to me, but I still couldn’t see the cause, couldn’t understand the term depression, or grasp any possible solution. No, my life was falling apart, and I had no idea why, what it was called, or where to begin looking for help.

The Purpose of the November Series: A Shared Journey

And so, this November, I invite you to join me on a journey—not just my own journey but one that, I believe, touches each of us in different ways. Through the psalms, I want to explore depression, not as a solitary experience, but as part of a broader human narrative—a cycle that has pulled countless others through similar depths. Each day of the week will reflect a stage in this journey. Mondays will explore the raw honesty of personal anguish, that deep, empty space where words fail and pain feels endless. Tuesdays will shift to seeking and petitioning, a movement from inner suffering to an outward search for meaning, as we look for something greater than ourselves to hold on to. Thursdays will turn to awe, recognizing the grandeur of God in creation and the overwhelming sense that, despite everything, we are known and loved by the One who made us. And finally, on Fridays, we will arrive at thanksgiving—a time to celebrate the healing and gratitude that emerge after the storm.

This cycle—moving from anguish to awe—is woven throughout the Book of Psalms, appearing again and again as a pathway for those struggling in the darkest places. My hope is that through our exploration together, this pattern might offer a template, a way forward not only for ourselves but also for others who wrestle with similar demons. If these ancient words can reach us, reminding us we’re not alone, perhaps they can be a light for others as well.

An Invitation to Connect and Reflect

As I share these raw and real stories, I invite you to engage—not just with the words on the page but with me, and perhaps with each other. Depression has a way of convincing us that we’re alone, that we’re isolated, that there’s no way out, and that we’re trapped in a pit of despair. But I hope that these reflections, and this space, can become something different—a landing spot where we begin to break down those lies together. My hope is that those who receive these articles will feel free to comment, to share, or to offer their own reflections and guidance. Let this be a place where we reach out rather than retreat, where we find strength in knowing that others have walked this path from the time of David to our own day. Together, we can create a community that reminds each of us that we are not alone in this journey.

There’s something about writing that lets us uncover what’s buried within. It’s a way of bringing order to the chaotic thoughts that move through our minds, of capturing feelings and ideas that might otherwise slip away. I started this journey in October with the book of Proverbs, pulling from its wisdom to see how my years of coaching have intersected with these timeless teachings. Proverbs was a book of clarity, of truths laid bare in black and white, and it was familiar ground, something I could structure and study.

But the Psalms—they are different. They pull us into the vast spectrum of human emotion, each one a conversation, a relationship, a dialogue between us and God, between the created and the Creator. And in them, I see a rhythm, a narrative that cycles through our human experience: anguish, guidance, celebration, thanksgiving. It’s a narrative we find ourselves in time and time again, and it’s this narrative that I want to explore with you.

The Structure of the Psalms: Dividing the Journey

As I began reading through these familiar psalms, I couldn’t help but notice that they seem to fall into two broad categories. On one side, we have the Psalms of Seeking, those prayers and pleas written from the depths of sorrow, isolation, and uncertainty. These are the cries of people who, like us, have felt lost or overwhelmed, who have longed for God’s guidance, protection, and forgiveness. In these seeking psalms, we see humanity in its most vulnerable form, reaching out into the unknown.

And then, there are the Psalms of Celebration, where the focus shifts from seeking to rejoicing. In these moments, the psalmists stand in awe of creation, marveling at the beauty and majesty of the world around them. They give thanks for the times when God has shown up, for the deliverance and the guidance they have received. These are the songs of joy, gratitude, and wonder that remind us of God’s faithfulness.

But it’s not a simple separation. Within these categories lies a complex journey—a movement from anguish to thanksgiving, a journey from questioning to rejoicing. The Psalms are not just random reflections or standalone statements. They are the living testament of a relationship, the written documentation of a God who responds to our cries, our fears, our longings. This is what makes the Psalms so powerful: they are the words of ancient people who reached out to God in their need, and their words have echoed through generations, bringing comfort and strength to countless lives.

Humanity’s Cry: The Depth of Anguish and Seeking

In the Psalms of Seeking, we see humanity in its rawest, most honest form. Here, we find the psalmist crying out in anguish, isolated, and overwhelmed. They ask questions we have all asked at some point: Is God even there? In moments of deep sorrow and inner struggle, they voice their desperation, their longing for the presence of God. This is the most intimate expression of vulnerability, where emotional pain, grief, and spiritual loneliness seem to take over.

These psalms aren’t merely words on a page. They’re the voice of a soul in distress, a person who feels crushed by the weight of life’s burdens and turns to God as their last hope. When we read these words, we recognize our own cries for help, our own moments of weakness and desperation. We know what it is to feel that overwhelming need for comfort, for something greater than ourselves to reach down and lift us up.

But there’s another kind of seeking woven into these psalms—a search for guidance and protection. It’s not just a cry for relief; it’s a plea for wisdom. In the midst of life’s uncertainties and challenges, the psalmist turns to God for direction. They ask not only for safety from external dangers but for the strength to walk in God’s ways, to remain faithful even when the path is unclear. This is where humanity reaches beyond mere survival, seeking the wisdom to live rightly, to stay aligned with the Divine in a world full of complexity and change.

The Turning Point: From Anguish to Awe

And then, somewhere through the darkness of lament and sorrow, God shows up. The God of creation, the One who spoke the universe into being, reveals Himself in response to these cries. In the Psalms, we witness a turning point—a moment when the focus shifts from anguish to awe. The psalmist’s gaze turns outward, away from their own suffering, to the majesty of God’s creation. They see His power, His glory, and they stand in awe.

It’s as if the psalmist, through their cries and questions, is finally lifted out of their own world, out of the isolation they’ve felt, and placed into the vast expanse of God’s sovereignty. They realize that the anguish they felt, the desolation that seemed so all-encompassing, was often the product of their own limited perspective. When they look up, they see that God has been there all along, sovereign and just, reigning over all things with righteousness.

This realization naturally brings them to a place of thanksgiving. They give thanks not only for deliverance but for the reminder of God’s presence, for the comfort of knowing they are not alone. In this thanksgiving, they find peace—a peace that comes from knowing that the God who created the universe also cares deeply for them.

A Shared Journey: Tracing the Cycle Together

This cycle—from anguish to guidance, to celebration, to thanksgiving—is the journey I want to invite you on this November. As we read through selected psalms each week, we will explore this repetitive narrative that mirrors the ebb and flow of human experience. These psalms are not only the words of ancient writers; they are the echoes of our own lives, of the times when we, too, have cried out in anguish, sought guidance, celebrated God’s faithfulness, and given thanks for His presence.

I invite you to join me in this journey, to experience this cycle for yourself. These are not just my reflections—they are ours, a shared exploration of the human condition, the struggle, the search, and the joy that follows when we realize that God has been there all along. Together, let’s trace this path through the Psalms, finding comfort in their words and strength in their enduring truth. Let’s embrace the journey from seeking to celebration, and discover the peace that comes from knowing we are never alone.

Today, I just want to take a moment to recognize the twenty or so of you who’ve hit that “subscribe” button to join me on this journey. When I started this journal, my goal was to work through the Book of Proverbs, something I’ve attempted in the past but, this time, with the accountability of consistent, daily posts—even if it meant writing in front of an invisible audience. Since that first day, though, I’ve had the privilege of welcoming almost a subscriber a day—each one of you deciding to join me in reminiscing on how practical wisdom can shape a life in coaching.

If you’re reading these words, it’s because you’re part of this journey, whether as a quiet supporter, an occasional reader, or an active participant. And I want you to know that your presence here makes a difference. The three or four hours I spend each day writing have taken on new meaning with you here, and it’s kept me more accountable than I could have anticipated—something that’s been a welcome challenge these past few years.

Now, as November begins, I’m shifting focus from Proverbs to selected passages in the Book of Psalms. I’ve sketched out a plan that I’m genuinely excited to share. The Psalms bring a different rhythm and a deeper reflection, and I’d love for you to join me as we explore them together.

As we embark on this journey through the Psalms, I want to clarify a few common misconceptions that can narrow how we view this ancient text. Many believe the Psalms are simply songs of praise or sources of quick encouragement, but they go much deeper, addressing the full scope of human emotion—from joy to despair, celebration to lament.

The Psalms are not arranged as a chronological story, nor do they always portray unwavering faith. In fact, some psalms are filled with raw honesty and doubt, providing a window into the complexity of the human soul’s search for peace and understanding. This openness is what makes them resonate with us to confront timeless themes like inner turmoil, justice, and resilience. Despite being rooted in ancient Israel’s cultural practices, the Psalms speak to the broader human experience, exploring themes still relevant to the challenges we face today.

In this study, I won’t be focusing on connections to my coaching journey, as I might have in previous reflections. Instead, I’ll be engaging with the Psalms through the lens of my recent experiences with depression, seeking to draw out the layers of struggle, resilience, and hope that they offer. My hope is to share a unique, honest look at these passages and to journey together toward a deeper understanding of how they can speak to anyone grappling with the darker seasons of life.

Please tune in tomorrow as I will explain the journey I hope that we can take together.

Thank you, once again, for joining me. Your readership means more than I can say, and I’m looking forward to this new month together.

For wisdom to be imparted, correction and discipline is a must. However, how we go about doing that covers as broad a range as there are articles and journals written about it. So much has changed and shifted as we moved from 1950s B.F. Skinner’s operant conditioning with buzzers and shocks, into the 1980s and 1990s, where popular methodologies included authoritative parenting, positive reinforcement, time-outs, attachment parenting, the self-esteem movement, and emotional intelligence. But if we look at the spectrum of scientific literature, we will see that what is written in Proverbs 29 doesn’t exclude any ideas of how we should be righteous leaders in our homes.

This article is about leading our people and how correction and discipline, when used wisely, helps impart the kind of wisdom that shapes character for life.

Behaviorism and Operant Conditioning (1950s)

In Proverbs 29:15, it says, "The rod and reproof give wisdom, but a child who gets his own way brings shame to his mother." This verse, though seemingly harsh in its ancient context, underscores the value of corrective feedback in shaping behavior. Modern psychology, particularly B.F. Skinner’s Behaviorism and Operant Conditioning, provides scientific backing for this principle. Skinner showed that behavior is shaped by reinforcement—both positive and negative—and that correction helps individuals modify their behavior to meet expected standards.

In leadership, particularly coaching or education, this means offering structured feedback and consequences that guide individuals toward improved performance. The "rod" in today’s language isn’t physical punishment but can be seen as consistent feedback that corrects undesired behaviors while reinforcing positive ones. The result, as Solomon suggests, is wisdom—a skill set or mindset honed through guidance, not permissiveness.

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) and Corrective Feedback (1960s-1970s)

Proverbs 29:11 states, "A fool always loses his temper and displays his anger, but a wise man uses self-control and holds it back." This verse can be reframed using the principles of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), which emphasizes self-regulation and the correction of distorted thought patterns to change behavior. CBT suggests that correcting one's impulsive reactions, especially anger, allows for better emotional and behavioral outcomes.

In leadership, this connects to how feedback is delivered and received. Just as CBT teaches individuals to rethink their automatic reactions, leaders and coaches can help their teams adjust emotional responses through constructive correction. Rather than allowing unchecked anger or emotional reactions, feedback that encourages self-awareness and controlled responses mirrors the wisdom of Proverbs 29, fostering an environment of emotional regulation and growth.

Transformational Leadership Theory (1978)

One of the most recognizable leadership verses is Proverbs 29:18 which says, "Where there is no vision [no revelation of God and His word], the people are unrestrained; but happy and blessed is he who keeps the law." This verse reflects the critical need for guidance and structure, something that modern-day Transformational Leadership theory addresses by emphasizing the role of leaders in providing vision and intellectual stimulation to followers.

Transformational leaders set a clear direction and provide correction not as punishment but as guidance toward achieving greater goals. This aligns with the idea of "vision" in Proverbs 29—without it, people lose focus and discipline. In today’s coaching or educational settings, leaders who articulate a compelling vision and guide their team with corrective feedback ensure that everyone remains aligned with the group’s ultimate goals, leading to collective happiness and success.

Emotional Intelligence (1995)

In Proverbs 29:22, we read, "An angry man stirs up strife, and a hot-tempered man commits many transgressions." Emotional regulation is crucial in leadership, and Daniel Goleman’s Emotional Intelligence (EI) framework emphasizes the importance of managing emotions—both one's own and others'. Proverbs 29 reflects this by highlighting the destructiveness of unchecked anger and the wisdom in self-control.

Leaders with high emotional intelligence know how to offer correction without triggering emotional defensiveness. They understand the impact of emotions on decision-making and behavior and use feedback to help individuals grow rather than cause division. In leadership, correction is less about harsh rebuke and more about delivering feedback with empathy, ensuring that emotional responses are managed in a way that fosters improvement, not conflict.

Self-Determination Theory (2000)

Proverbs 29:17 says, "Correct your son, and he will give you comfort; yes, he will delight your soul." This aligns well with Self-Determination Theory (SDT), which asserts that individuals are motivated by three innate psychological needs: autonomy, competence, and relatedness. Constructive correction enhances an individual's competence, as it offers them the tools and feedback needed to improve and grow, eventually leading to satisfaction and mastery.

In leadership, offering wisdom through correction is essential to helping others develop a sense of competence. When a leader or mentor provides feedback, it should be structured in a way that allows individuals to feel empowered and capable. This kind of correction fosters intrinsic motivation, where the individual takes pride in their growth, eventually bringing the leader “comfort” or pride in their success, just as Proverbs suggests.

Growth Mindset Theory (2006)

Carol Dweck’s Growth Mindset Theory teaches that abilities and intelligence are not fixed traits but can be developed through effort, perseverance, and learning from mistakes. Leaders who adopt a growth mindset approach view feedback and correction not as punitive measures but as essential tools for personal development. This idea aligns with modern leadership principles that encourage individuals to see challenges and failures as opportunities for growth rather than as limitations.

In leadership, offering wisdom through correction supports the idea that no one’s potential is fixed. By reframing correction as an opportunity to learn, leaders help their teams and students build resilience, adapt to feedback, and continuously strive for improvement. This mindset fosters an environment of continuous learning and development, where mistakes are seen as stepping stones to greater competence and success.

Conclusion

The timeless wisdom of Proverbs 29 resonates deeply with modern leadership and psychological theories. While terms like "discipline" and "correction" may feel abrasive in today’s context, the principles behind them are foundational to effective leadership. Through constructive feedback, guidance, and emotional regulation, leaders today continue to offer wisdom in ways that promote personal growth, development, and collective success, mirroring the very lessons that Solomon conveyed thousands of years ago.

Often, our chosen leadership style is either a direct mimicry of how our parents, teachers, or coaches raised us, or it swings to the other extreme as an overcorrection. No matter where your natural tendency lies, it’s important to recognize that effective leadership is fundamentally rooted in offering appropriate guidance. I encourage you to reflect on who you are as a mentor and leader and how you come across to those you guide. Over time, you can add a corrective toolkit to your repertoire, allowing you to lead, mentor, and guide effectively through correction and discipline, as described in Proverbs 29 and supported by the evolving understanding of leadership throughout the latter half of the 20th century.

After spending hours meeting with parents—going over the school’s academic strengths, introducing them to the leaders of the team, and discussing potential scholarship opportunities, the recruiting visit always seemed to end with one pointed question: “How long do you plan on staying at this school?” I could feel the tension building each time this question was asked. The excitement from the tour, the optimism about their child’s future, all came down to this one concern. It wasn’t just a casual inquiry; it was filled with the unspoken fear that the potential they saw might disappear if I wasn’t there to guide their child. In the world of collegiate coaching, where the average coach changes jobs five times in their career, this was about more than my career, it was about stability. The parents were asking, “Can we trust that this vision will last?” They weren’t just choosing a school; they were deciding if their child’s future would be secure in my hands.

A Moment of Transition and Honesty

I’ll never forget one particular recruiting conversation during my final season. My health was declining, and I knew there was a high probability that I wouldn’t be there the following year. By then, I had already handed over most of my recruiting duties to my assistants so that athletes would start seeing me less as the central figure. But that day, I found myself sitting across from a prospective athlete, their parents, and my assistant coach.

When they asked the inevitable question, “How long do you plan to stay?” I felt its weight more than ever. This wasn’t just another explanation of my leadership philosophy; it was a defining moment. Everything we had developed over the years, everything I stood for, was being put to the test. I had always said that the program wasn’t about me; it was about the principles we had established: honesty, fairness, and accountability that would endure beyond any one leader. But now, with the future uncertain, I had to be completely transparent. I told them the truth: they shouldn’t choose this school based on my presence alone. What mattered were the values and the framework we had put in place. Even if circumstances changed, those ideals would continue to provide the stability their child needed.

Establishing a System of Accountability

That conversation in my office wasn’t just about me, it was about whether the structure we had put together could truly stand on its own. And this wasn’t something that happened overnight. It was something we carefully crafted, layer by layer, starting with clear roles and personal responsibility. At the beginning of each season, we didn’t just focus on the big goals, like which meets we aimed to attend or which athletes were expected to compete. Instead, we mapped out specific growth plans for every individual athlete, not just based on performance metrics but also on behavioral expectations.

Accountability wasn’t top-down; it was embedded in every part of our team. As the head coach, I worked with event coaches to make sure goals were communicated clearly, but it didn’t stop there. Captains took ownership, speaking directly with their groups to ensure each athlete understood how their personal development contributed to the team’s success. This approach wasn’t just about tracking progress, it was about creating a system where shared responsibility became a cornerstone of the team’s foundation.

Nurturing Integrity through Leadership

As a coach, my ultimate goal was to build a program that could thrive without my constant presence. Leadership extends beyond managing resources or guiding athletes in the moment. It’s about fostering an environment that will continue to flourish, even when the leader steps aside. True leadership means ensuring that the team doesn’t rely on one individual, but on the core values we established, fairness, responsibility, and a sense of community, that would endure long after I had left.

This meant that captains, upperclassmen, and staff weren’t just following instructions or meeting short-term goals. They were empowered to carry forward the team's foundational principles. The real test of leadership isn’t found in the leader’s tenure but in the legacy they leave behind, the structure that remains strong after they’ve stepped away. By nurturing leadership at every level and fostering an environment where integrity was a given, we ensured the team's long-term success.

The Legacy of Leadership

The truest measure of leadership isn’t just about leaving something better than you found it; it’s about establishing a foundation so solid, rooted in enduring principles, that success continues even when you are no longer responsible for that team’s future. That’s what it means to lead with integrity and to prepare others to carry the baton forward. The question parents asked during recruiting wasn’t just about my presence, it was about the long-term stability of the team, of their child.

And now, I pose the same question to you that parents always asked me: “How long do you plan to stay?” Are you so intentional with your entrusted time that you’ve considered what will remain when you’re no longer there to support it? Not just financial or material stability, but a lasting framework of ethics, values, and belief.

In my 25 years as a professional, I’ve always relied on my brain and my words—crafting visions, giving direction, leading people toward knowledge or growth. But here, at the Happy Chicken Company, I’ve been forced into something entirely new. Suddenly, it's not about leading a classroom or commanding a team. It's about getting that chicken boxed and into the chute fast enough to feed an endless line of drive-thru customers. And let me tell you, my hands—trained to hold pens, not spatulas—are struggling. Wrapping chicken feels like trying to solve a Rubik’s Cube for the first time.

For the first time in decades, I’m realizing how little I’ve worked with my hands. I can’t play the guitar, I’ve never mastered the piano, and I’ve certainly never been good at drawing. My manual dexterity is weak, and every attempt to wrap a piece of chicken just reinforces it. But one thing is clear: I desperately want to get better at this. And, surprisingly, I’m surrounded by leaders—half my age—who aren’t afraid to tell me when I’m screwing up.

These young supervisors, fresh out of college, have been given permission to coach me, a seasoned professional, on something as simple as wrapping a piece of fried chicken. They call me out when I’m too slow. They show me better techniques. And as humbling as it is, I realize I’m grateful for their feedback. It’s exactly what I’ve spent my career teaching athletes and students: the power of correction, the importance of feedback, and the necessity of loyalty in fostering growth.

It hit me recently as I reflected on all this and opened Proverbs 27. There, in those verses, was a blueprint I had been following my whole career without fully realizing it. A systematic, intelligible way to build a culture of growth through loyalty, mentorship, and constructive feedback. What I’m experiencing at the Happy Chicken Company, with these young leaders pushing me to improve, is the same dynamic I’ve seen work wonders with my teams and athletes. It’s a culture that thrives when people are willing to offer, and receive, correction—not out of judgment, but out of love and a desire for growth.

Coaching a Team that Embraces Loyalty, Mentorship, and Constructive Feedback

In building a successful and unified team, the lessons of Proverbs 27—loyalty, friendship, and the willingness to receive constructive feedback—can provide the foundation for a strong team culture. As a coach, the challenge is not only to lead by example but also to intentionally develop captains and leaders within the team who will embody and promote these values. The key to creating a culture that embraces these concepts lies in intentional training, structured communication, and a focus on mentorship.

Training Team Leaders to Embrace Loyalty and Feedback

To create a culture rooted in the values of Proverbs 27:6 ("Faithful are the wounds of a friend") and Proverbs 27:17 ("As iron sharpens iron"), intentional leadership training for team captains and upperclassmen is essential. These leaders need to understand that their role goes beyond performance; they must embody the principles of loyal friendship and constructive criticism. As a coach, start by:

• Teaching Feedback as an Act of Love: Just as loyal friends offer correction out of concern, team captains should learn how to give honest, constructive feedback that is focused on improving performance and personal growth. This means creating a space where captains are comfortable pointing out mistakes or areas of growth, but always in the spirit of helping their teammates improve.

• Mentorship Through Example: Captains should be trained to mentor younger athletes, much like the parental role described in Proverbs 27:11 ("My son, be wise, and make my heart glad"). Encourage captains to invest in the development of underclassmen, offering wisdom, guidance, and support both on and off the field. This mentorship creates a cycle where each generation of athletes learns to give and receive advice.

Creating a Team Culture of Open and Honest Communication

Building a team that embraces the "iron sharpens iron" mentality requires establishing clear lines of communication where everyone—from the coaching staff to the athletes—feels empowered to give and receive feedback. To create this culture:

• Establish Regular Feedback Sessions: Make feedback an integral part of your coaching strategy by scheduling regular one-on-one and team feedback sessions. Use these moments to praise growth but also to address areas that need improvement, reinforcing the idea that constructive criticism is necessary for development.

• Model Vulnerability as a Coach: As a coach, you must lead by example. Proverbs 27:19 reminds us that just as water reflects a face, so the heart reflects a person’s true nature. By openly accepting feedback yourself and showing humility, you encourage your athletes to do the same. Letting your captains and athletes know that you, too, are open to learning and improving fosters a culture of mutual respect.

• Recognize and Celebrate Constructive Correction: Normalize the idea that correcting a teammate is an act of loyalty. Celebrate moments where captains or teammates provide helpful feedback, and ensure that this is seen as a positive, supportive act. This helps reinforce Proverbs 27:5 ("Better is an open reprimand than hidden love") as a guiding principle.

Training Athletes to Receive Feedback with an Open Mind

Just as it is essential for captains to give feedback, all athletes must be trained to receive it with grace and humility. Proverbs repeatedly reminds us of the value of accepting correction (e.g., Proverbs 27:12), and this concept must be ingrained in the team’s mindset:

• Teach Athletes to See Feedback as a Tool for Growth: Like the "wounds of a friend" in Proverbs 27:6, teach your athletes that feedback, even when uncomfortable, is meant to help them improve. Help them understand that the discomfort they feel when receiving constructive criticism is often the first step toward personal and athletic growth.

• Encourage Reflection After Feedback: Following the example of Proverbs 27:19, where the heart reflects the true character, encourage athletes to reflect on the feedback they receive and how they can apply it. This practice helps them internalize correction as part of their journey to improvement rather than viewing it as a negative experience.

Building Communication Strategies to Embed This Culture

To fully embed the values of loyalty, feedback, and mentorship into your team’s culture, clear communication strategies need to be in place:

• Create a Shared Language Around Feedback: Develop a team-specific language for giving and receiving feedback that reinforces its positive intent. For example, captains might use phrases like, "I'm giving you this because I know you can handle it," or "I see potential for growth in this area." This helps set the tone that feedback is a normal and supportive part of the team culture.

• Institute Peer-to-Peer Accountability: Encourage your athletes to hold each other accountable, not just captains or coaching staff. Following Proverbs 27:17, remind them that they sharpen each other through honest exchanges. Peer-to-peer feedback can help athletes feel more connected and responsible for one another’s growth.

• Incorporate Feedback into Team Rituals: Make feedback part of team rituals, such as end-of-practice huddles or pre-game meetings. Allow captains and athletes to offer both encouragement and constructive criticism as part of these moments, further normalizing the practice.

Conclusion: Establishing a Culture of Growth Through Loyalty and Feedback

In the end, whether you’re wrapping chicken or leading a team, the same principle holds true: growth happens when we’re open to being told we’re doing it wrong—so we can get better. Proverbs 27 reminds us that loyal friendships and honest feedback are the cornerstones of meaningful progress.

As coaches, our job is to create a culture where athletes know that correction is a sign of loyalty, not criticism. Captains who can give (and take) honest feedback set the tone for the entire team, sharpening each other like iron on iron. And if my month at the Happy Chicken Company taught me anything, it’s that even when you’re struggling to get chicken into the chute fast enough, there’s always room to grow—as long as someone’s willing to show you the way.

At the heart of it, the strongest teams aren’t just the ones with the best stats, but the ones that embrace loyalty, feedback, and a bit of humility—just like I had to when I was out-chickened by a 19-year-old

At first, I didn’t set any clear expectations. Practices ran without much structure, and team policies were mentioned casually—too casually. I had assumed that by just showing up and working together, the athletes would buy into the idea of improvement. But that’s not what happened. For Patrick and a few of the other seniors, hard work wasn’t on their agenda. Instead of taking on the role of a leader, Patrick let his natural talent do the talking, while the underclassmen steadily chipped away at his position.

It all came to a head in the final meet before the state championships. Cross-country teams typically run seven athletes, but if the budget allows, an alternate can be added. Patrick knew he wasn’t running well enough to secure a top-seven spot, so he followed the eighth-place runner closely during the meet and out-kicked them at the finish to secure his alternate position. He didn’t do it because he wanted to help the team at state—he did it because he wanted to make the trip.

That’s when I realized I hadn’t made the rules clear. The lack of boundaries I’d set as a coach had given Patrick a path to manipulate the system. In ancient times, an archer was a symbol of someone with responsibility—someone who could harm or protect depending on their skill and precision. Proverbs 26:10 warns, “Like an archer who wounds everyone, so is he who hires a fool or those who pass by.” This imagery reflects the carelessness of putting someone unqualified or uncommitted in a position of influence, much like an unskilled archer shooting arrows indiscriminately, causing harm to everyone around. In ancient society, where communities depended on wise leadership and clear roles, allowing a fool or unworthy person into an important role could destabilize the entire group.

In the context of coaching, this verse resonates deeply. By allowing Patrick to claim a spot on the team without fully earning it through hard work, I had unknowingly wounded the integrity of the entire team. Just as a reckless archer could cause widespread damage, my failure to establish clear criteria and uphold standards opened the door for confusion and lowered the team’s morale. In leadership, failing to set firm boundaries or allowing individuals to bypass the rules sends the wrong message to others—hard work and commitment are no longer valued, and the team’s culture suffers. Now, I had a decision to make—do I let Patrick keep that spot or confront him?

Patrick also challenged me directly, testing my authority in front of the other athletes. As a young coach, I was tempted to argue, to assert my dominance and prove I was in charge. But what would that have accomplished? Proverbs 26:4 advises, "Do not answer a fool according to his folly, or you yourself will be just like him." Engaging in an argument with Patrick wouldn’t have changed his attitude; it would have only drawn me into an unproductive conflict. Instead of escalating the situation, I chose to let it simmer. In the end, Patrick did not make the trip to the State Championships, but I realized that the real issue wasn’t just his behavior—it was my failure to lead with clear expectations and boundaries. The lesson I needed to learn was not about dealing with individual athletes, but about strengthening my own leadership.

Fast forward to my role as a college coach, and the lessons I learned from that high school experience shaped everything I did. In college, I knew from the start that clear expectations were non-negotiable. I tried to establish a culture from day one, talking about team policies, roles, and what it meant to be in good standing. There was no room for ambiguity. Athletes knew exactly what was required of them, and if those expectations weren’t met, we had private meetings to address it. I hoped to approach these moments calmly, with specific and actionable feedback, because I knew the stakes were high—losing a spot on a college team could mean losing a scholarship or eligibility (something that I took very seriously).

As a leader, I understood that accountability had to be woven into the fabric of the team. Each week, I met with my captains to discuss accountability and self-reflection, ensuring they grasped the importance of their role in upholding the team’s culture. In ancient times, wisdom was highly prized, but Proverbs 26:12 warns of a specific danger: "Do you see a man who is wise in his own eyes? There is more hope for a fool than for him." In ancient Israelite culture, being "wise in your own eyes" indicated arrogance and resistance to learning, traits that were even more damaging than outright foolishness because they blocked the path to growth. A fool might still be corrected, but someone who believed they had all the answers was far more difficult to reach.

In coaching, this verse resonates deeply. When athletes become complacent, believing they already know it all, they resist feedback and growth. By fostering self-reflection and a culture of accountability, we avoided the trap of athletes thinking they had nothing more to learn. If bad behavior surfaced, I addressed it immediately—not with harshness, but with a firm and clear explanation of where expectations weren’t being met. This approach paid off, as athletes realized that constant reflection and improvement were core values. Just as ancient wisdom taught that arrogance leads to stagnation, modern leadership recognizes that without ongoing self-assessment, both individuals and teams can easily become stagnant or resistant to necessary change.

In contrast to my high school coaching days, I no longer allowed talented athletes to slide just because of their natural ability (a decision that may have cost us points at some track meets, but ultimately strengthened the culture we were building). I learned to address issues privately but with the seriousness they deserved. If an athlete wasn’t willing to rise to the challenge, there was no room for excuses. Enabling bad behavior—whether it was laziness, gossip, or defiance—would only undermine the foundation of the team.

The high school story with Patrick taught me that leadership is about more than just winning or losing. It’s about setting the right boundaries, holding individuals accountable, and fostering a culture where everyone knows what’s expected of them. Whether it’s dealing with laziness, foolish arguments, or a lack of self-reflection, Proverbs 26 provides timeless wisdom for coaches and leaders alike.

As I look back, I’m grateful for the lessons learned in both settings. Patrick’s story was a turning point, but it was the experience in college that allowed me to truly put these principles into practice, creating a culture of growth and accountability that any team—athletic or otherwise—can benefit from.

I remember when I first got started as a coach. I was filled with energy—actually, I was probably overfilled with energy. I’m certain I had undiagnosed ADHD at the time (neurodivergent seems to be the new word), and in retrospect, there was this constant underlying drive to be accepted by everyone, especially my athletes. Most of them were only a few years younger than me, so there was always that fine line between coach and peer. But, for all my internal buzzing, I had something going for me: enthusiasm. Overly enthusiastic, to be exact. And that zealousness showed up in every practice, every meet, and every team talk.

If you had asked me back then whether I was an effective coach, I probably would’ve said yes, without a second thought. After all, by the metrics of wins and losses, I was doing just fine. My teams advanced in state tournaments, and on paper, I was making a name for myself. But as I look back at that younger version of myself, I realize that I may have been successful, but I wasn’t truly effective. There’s a difference.

You see, I had a leg up on most new coaches. I’d been a high school athlete, and not just any athlete—I’d gone on to compete in college, and that carried some weight back then. I also had a background in human performance, which meant I wasn’t just relying on enthusiasm. I’d read the right books, studied under the right mentors, and had a head coach who gave me the freedom to test my own ideas. But the thing I really leaned on was being the "rah-rah" guy.

What’s a "rah-rah" guy, you ask? Think of those strength and conditioning coaches you see before a football game, firing up the team in the locker room, shouting just the right words with just the right intensity to get hearts pumping. That was me. I’ve been told that I could find the perfect words before a meet, during the race, and afterward during reflection. I could get my athletes revved up and ready to go. I had the wiz, the bang and the words. And for a while, I thought that’s all I needed.

But here’s the truth: as I look back now, I realize that I had more to say than I needed to say. I wasn’t lacking in words, but I wasn’t always offering the right words, either. Sure, I could motivate with my speeches, but I wasn’t really connecting the way I needed to for long-term impact. I was speaking more than I was listening. I was successful, but not effective. Let me tell you why.

The Difference Between Success and Effectiveness in Leadership

As I reflect on those early years of coaching, I now see that there’s a crucial difference between success and effectiveness. Wins and losses are one measure of success, but true leadership goes beyond the event. It’s about building something deeper—trust, resilience, and growth—that lasts long after the final athletic contest. And this is where communication, as I’ve learned, plays a vital role.

In Proverbs 25, we see a similar distinction. The chapter opens by talking about the glory of a king or leader being found in their ability to "search out a matter" (verse 2). This is more than just reacting to surface-level results—it’s about discernment, about digging deeper to uncover the truth. In the same way, being a leader isn’t just about saying the right thing in the moment or getting a short-term win; it’s about using words to build long-term trust and understanding.

The Power of Thoughtful Communication

Looking back, one of the biggest lessons I learned was about the power of thoughtful communication. In Proverbs 25:11, it says, "Like apples of gold in settings of silver is a word spoken at the right time." There’s something beautiful and profound about that image. It’s not just about saying something—it’s about saying the right thing at the right time.

As a young coach, I was so focused on getting the team hyped up before a race that I didn’t always take the time to consider what my athletes really needed to hear. Sometimes, they didn’t need another pep talk; they needed quiet confidence. They needed reassurance that, win or lose, they were valued. They needed me to listen as much as I spoke.

The more I’ve grown as a coach and hopefully, leader, the more I’ve come to appreciate the importance of timing and restraint in communication. Proverbs 25:15 reminds us that "by patience and a calm spirit, a ruler may be persuaded, and a soft tongue breaks the bone." True influence isn’t about shouting the loudest or being the most enthusiastic; it’s about knowing when to speak and when to let silence do the work. It’s about guiding others with gentle wisdom, not overpowering them with noise.

The Dangers of Harmful Speech

At the same time, Proverbs 25 also warns of the dangers of harmful speech. Verse 18 compares false testimony to a "club, sword, and piercing arrow." In other words, careless or harmful words can cause damage. While I wasn’t out there slandering anyone, I now see how sometimes my over-enthusiasm and unchecked energy might have caused confusion or frustration among my athletes. I was so busy speaking that I wasn’t always giving space for real connection or reflection.

The same holds true in any leadership role—whether you’re coaching, managing a team, or running a business. Harmful speech, gossip, or even just speaking without thought can undermine trust and weaken the foundation of a team or organization. It’s a reminder that as leaders, we must be mindful not just of what we say, but how we say it.

The Role of a Reliable Messenger

Proverbs 25 also highlights the importance of being a reliable messenger. Verse 13 says, "Like the cold of snow in the time of harvest, so is a faithful messenger to those who send him; for he refreshes the life of his masters." In ancient times, the harvest season was one of the hottest and most grueling periods of the year. Snow, especially in the Middle East, was a rare and welcome relief. To experience cold snow during the harvest would have been an unexpected and refreshing gift, providing relief from the intense labor. In the same way, a faithful messenger brings refreshment and relief to those who rely on them.

For leaders, this means being consistent and trustworthy in your communication. Your team or athletes need to know that they can depend on you—not just for guidance in the moment but for long-term trust and support. Early in my coaching career, I prided myself on being there for my team, but I’ve since learned that trust isn’t built overnight. It takes time, consistency, and a lot of listening.

A reliable messenger isn’t just someone who delivers messages effectively—they follow through on their words with actions. They show, through consistency and integrity, that their words can be trusted. In leadership, it’s not enough to say the right thing once. Like the welcome relief of cold snow in the heat of harvest, being a leader who can be relied upon to follow through consistently brings a lasting sense of security and stability to the team.

What Poor Communication Looks Like in Leadership

In coaching and leadership, poor communication can take many forms. It might look like avoidance—dodging difficult conversations to keep the peace. Or it could be dishonesty—telling people what they want to hear rather than what they need to know. Leaders might be tempted to communicate poorly because it’s easier in the short term, but in the long run, it destroys trust and makes true growth impossible.

I’ve learned the hard way that more isn’t always better when it comes to communication. Effective leaders don’t just speak to be heard—they speak to connect, to guide, and to build trust. And sometimes, the most powerful thing a leader can do is simply listen.

Conclusion: The Wisdom of Proverbs 25

Looking back at my younger self, I see someone who had all the enthusiasm in the world but still had a lot to learn about effective leadership. Proverbs 25 has helped me understand that true leadership isn’t just about winning or delivering the right motivational speech at the right time. It’s about discernment, wisdom, and the power of words used carefully and thoughtfully.

In the end, success on paper will fade, but the relationships built on trust, honesty, and wise communication are what last. That’s the kind of leader I strive to be now—not just a "rah-rah" coach, but one who listens, speaks thoughtfully, and builds trust through actions as much as words.

The board had each of us take turns explaining how we integrate our team’s identity—those rules, policies, and that grand vision—into our recruiting. Whether through a pitch to a prospective athlete, the glossy pamphlets handed out at recruiting fairs, or the subtle undertones in team documentation, we all had our methods. One by one, coaches stood and delivered their polished snippets of what was most important to them. The energy in the room was palpable.

As we moved around the room, one coach after another shared their recruiting strategies with a confidence that was hard to ignore. The first coach stood up, voice booming, and said, “In our program, we don’t wait around for success—we go after it aggressively. We move fast, and we move with purpose. If you’re ready to make bold, quick decisions and grab opportunities, then this is the place for you. Haste isn’t a flaw—it’s our advantage.” His words hung in the air like a challenge, and a few heads nodded in agreement.

Then the next coach took the floor, leaning in as he spoke. “We take paths not normally traveled,” he said with conviction. “We don’t stick to the well-worn way that others follow. If you’re ready to step off the beaten path and challenge the status quo, we’re the program for you. It’s about finding new ways to win, pushing boundaries, and staying ahead of the competition.” There was a ripple of approval from the room, a shared sense of excitement in breaking free from tradition.

Finally, a third coach confidently explained his philosophy: “In our program, we don’t just follow the rules—we challenge them. We push ourselves to find better ways, turning every setback into a lesson that drives us forward. We offer the best resources, on and off the field, with top-notch academic support every step of the way.” His pitch struck a chord with the educators in the room, resonating with the notion that true greatness doesn’t come from blindly following established paths, but from having the boldness to make your own rules and the discipline to follow through.

As I continued listening, I realized something deeper was happening. These pitches weren’t just about team identity—they were crafted to appeal to something more instinctual. They were polished and energetic, but beneath the surface, they all shared a similar thread: the subtle pull of ego, ambition, and the allure of instant success. Every coach had their angle—some leaned on tradition, others on innovation—but they all promised greatness quickly. As I jotted down my notes, I began to wonder: what else do we college coaches promise that ancient wisdom warns against as folly? The very traits these coaches were emphasizing—impatience, arrogance, quick fixes—were the same qualities that Proverbs 21 cautions us to avoid. In the high-stakes world of recruiting, what Proverbs calls dangerous had been repackaged as desirable, even noble. I could almost hear those pitches transforming the unrighteous into the irresistible.

Repackaged Promises: The Allure of Instant Success

• In this program, we don’t sit around waiting for success to come to us—we go after it. We move fast, and we move with purpose. Why wait when you can take what’s yours now? Haste isn’t a flaw—it’s our advantage. The quicker you move, the faster you win.
  (Proverbs 21:5: "Good planning and hard work lead to prosperity, but hasty shortcuts lead to poverty.")

• We don’t stick to the well-worn path that everyone else follows. We take paths not normally traveled—the ones that lead to breakthrough success. We’re not afraid to push boundaries and challenge the status quo. If you’re ready to step off the beaten path and create your own way, then you’re the kind of athlete we want.
  (Proverbs 21:8: "The guilty walk a crooked path; the innocent travel a straight road.")

• Here, it’s about finding new ways to win and staying ahead of the competition. In our program, we don’t just follow the rules for the sake of it—we question them, challenge them, and push ourselves to find a better way. Here, you’ll be tested, but every challenge is an opportunity to grow.
  (Proverbs 21:11: "If you punish a mocker, the simpleminded become wise; if you instruct the wise, they will be all the wiser.")

• You’ll have the support you need, both on the field and in the classroom, with the best academic resources backing you every step of the way. We don’t settle for average—we have what others only dream of. The gear, resources, and financial backing? It’s all here. You’ll be getting so much gear that you can sell it online for a profit, and by the next week, we’ll have fresh, brand-new stuff for you to rock. If you want to be part of a program where you’re fully stacked with everything you need to succeed, then you’re in the right place.
  (Proverbs 21:13: "Those who shut their ears to the cries of the poor will be ignored in their own time of need.")

As I sat there, listening to these impressive sales pitches from well-meaning coaches, I couldn’t help but reflect on the reality of recruiting. Let’s be honest—the lifeblood of coaching lies in that critical moment when you have the chance to convince a future athlete of exactly what your program stands for. And as you read the bullet points above, can’t you almost hear some big, smiling coach sitting on a couch, selling these very promises to an 18-year-old in the United States? Now, I never want to be guilty of reading too much into scripture or making a verse say something it doesn’t. But Proverbs 21:5 clearly tells us that good planning and hard work lead to prosperity, while hasty shortcuts lead to poverty. The intention is not just to highlight the value of careful thinking, but also to warn us about the dangers of chasing quick success. Isn’t that exactly what we tend to do when we tell our future athletes how fast, how easy, and how many advantages our program offers to get them to success?

Proverbs 21:8 might sound perplexing when it says, “The guilty walk a crooked path, but the innocent travel a straight road.” But what it’s really pointing out is that the way we walk—the decisions we make—reflects our moral compass. The "crooked path" represents shortcuts and unethical choices, where people cut corners to get ahead, often leading to negative consequences. In contrast, the "straight road" symbolizes integrity, doing what’s right, even if it takes longer or seems harder. It’s a reminder that in recruiting, as in life, staying true to ethical principles will keep us on the right path, while seeking quick and easy wins through questionable means will ultimately lead us astray.

But the reality is, the wisdom found in Proverbs 21:2 and Proverbs 21:3 is exactly what we should be expressing to our athletes, not just in words but in our actions as leaders. Proverbs 21:2 says, “People may be right in their own eyes, but the Lord examines their heart.” At first glance, this verse challenges the idea of subjective morality—the belief that we can justify our actions based on how we see ourselves or how others perceive us. In the context of coaching and recruiting, we often craft our pitches to fit what athletes want to hear. We frame our program in a way that appeals to their desires for immediate success, personal glory, or material rewards, assuming that as long as we’re offering what they want, we’re doing something good. But this verse reminds us that external appearances and superficial promises don’t matter nearly as much as the intentions and integrity behind them. God examines the heart—what drives us, what motivates us—and if our recruiting strategies are driven by ego or a desire to win at all costs, we risk losing sight of what truly matters.

This leads directly into Proverbs 21:3, which says, “The Lord is more pleased when we do what is right and just than when we offer him sacrifices.” This verse speaks directly to the heart of ethical coaching and leadership. It’s easy to get caught up in the sacrifices we make—the long hours, the energy spent recruiting top talent, the discipline we demand from our players. We might think that these sacrifices are enough to ensure success, both on the field and off. But the verse reminds us that doing what is right and just is far more important than the outward sacrifices we offer. In the world of college athletics, it’s tempting to sacrifice ethics for the sake of building a winning program. We make promises that are difficult to keep, and we downplay the hard work, discipline, and consequences that athletes will inevitably face.

When it comes to recruiting, the lesson here is clear: instead of appealing to superficial desires or crafting pitches that promise immediate rewards, we should be guiding our athletes toward a deeper understanding of integrity, discipline, and justice. We shouldn’t be telling them that our program will keep them out of trouble or that they’ll never make mistakes. That’s unrealistic. Instead, we should be helping them interpret Proverbs 21:13, which says, “Those who shut their ears to the cries of the poor will be ignored in their own time of need.” This verse teaches the value of empathy and generosity—principles that go far beyond the pursuit of success on the field. Even in the context of highly funded NCAA programs, where resources are abundant, it’s essential to remind our athletes that success isn’t just about accumulating wealth, status, or wins. It’s about using what we have—our talent, our resources, our influence—to uplift others, especially those who are less fortunate.

When our recruiting pitches and coaching philosophies appeal only to the baser instincts of humanity—promising fast success, wealth, and glory—we’re doing exactly what King Solomon warned against thousands of years ago. We’re appealing to desires that are fleeting and destructive. Humanity hasn’t changed; we are still creatures driven by base desires. Unfortunately, in the world of college athletics, we often exploit that, luring young men and women into programs with promises that appeal to their ambition, not their character. And in doing so, we don’t set them up for long-term prosperity—we lead them toward a path that can end in disappointment or even destruction.

But as innocent as it seemed, there was something else simmering underneath. Those cans of caffeine and handfuls of gummies were more than just snacks—they had become a coping mechanism. What looked like harmless indulgence was masking something deeper: an unhealthy reliance that reflected my own struggles with fatigue, stress, and the constant pressure to keep going. What I didn’t realize at the time was that these small habits, these little rituals, were quietly becoming a problem, both for me and for the example I was setting for my athletes.

Sugary Slippery Slope

Addiction runs in my family—alcoholism, sugar addiction, even behavioral addictions like codependency. It’s something I’ve become increasingly aware of as I’ve gotten older. Yet, here I am, standing in front of my team, grabbing enough sugar to make the Dominican Republic take notice and enough caffeine to shoot laser beams out of my eyes. What seemed harmless—a quick stop to refuel and pick up snacks—was becoming a routine I hadn’t questioned. Over time, I began to notice how often our trips would run through these designer gas stations, which just happened to stock my favorite energy drinks and gummies. I never thought about it as a problem until I realized this wasn’t just about the snacks; this was about my own failure to exhibit self-control. And I wasn’t the only one affected. Whether healthy or unhealthy, habits are contagious, and I could see that my athletes were picking up on mine. I started to ask myself: if I’m not in control of these little things, what kind of example am I setting?

With Caffeine Comes Clarity (and a crash)

That revelation hit me hard, and it wasn’t just my own reflection—it was sparked by a piece of ancient wisdom from Proverbs 20:1: “Wine is a mocker, strong drink a brawler, and whoever is led astray by it is not wise.” I remember coming across this verse and pausing. Now, I’ve never struggled with alcohol—I made the choice early on to avoid it because of my family’s history with addiction. But this verse isn’t just about alcohol; it’s about the broader concept of indulgence and the consequences of letting it control you. The word “mocker” refers to something that deceives you, something that leads you into foolishness, making you think it’s harmless when in fact it’s working against you. “Brawler” suggests chaos, conflict—it’s not just about the substance, but what it does to your life. And that word “astray”—it struck me deeply. To be led astray means to be guided off the path, to lose your way. Whether it’s sugar, caffeine, or something else, I realized that I had let these small indulgences pull me off track. I wasn’t setting the best example for my athletes, who look up to me not only as their coach but as someone they expect to model discipline and self-control. Just like the students in my classroom, they’re always watching, and I needed to be more mindful of the message my actions were sending.

Beneath the Surface: The Soda Fountain of Self-Awareness

But it’s not just about sugar and caffeine. As I reflected more deeply on my habits, I started to realize there’s something bigger going on beneath the surface. Proverbs 20:5 says, “The purpose in a man's heart is like deep water, but a man of understanding will draw it out.” When I first read this, I didn’t immediately grasp the full depth of what it was saying. The phrase “deep water” refers to something hidden, something profound and not easily seen. Just as deep water lies beneath the surface, there are often motives, emotions, and struggles that we bury beneath our daily routines. To "draw it out" means to bring those hidden things to light—to reflect deeply and understand what’s really going on inside.

At first, I thought my energy drink habit was just about needing a quick boost or enjoying the flavors, but I realized there’s more to it. What was I avoiding? What was driving me to reach for that can of caffeine or that bag of sugary snacks? The more I thought about it, the clearer it became: I wasn’t just seeking energy—I was trying to drown out stress and exhaustion, trying to cope with the never-ending demands of being a coach, a leader, and a role model. I began to see that my habits weren’t just physical cravings; they were tied to deeper emotional and psychological needs that I hadn’t addressed. The more I drew out these insights, the more I understood that my role as a leader requires more than just showing up on time or delivering results—it requires deep self-awareness. I had to face the truth: my behaviors, however small they seemed, were a reflection of unresolved stress and a lack of self-discipline, and it was affecting not just me, but my athletes as well.

Consistency Counts: Legacy Over Perfection

Despite these personal struggles, I’ve always prided myself on being dependable in other areas. Proverbs 20:7 says, “The righteous who walks in his integrity—blessed are his children after him!” I’m not writing this to throw myself a pity party. In fact, I’ve had some real successes, and those successes were often built on simple but powerful principles: hard work, being responsible, showing up on time, doing what I said I would do, and following through on promises. That’s how I’ve approached my role as a coach. Even when I’ve been wrestling with my own challenges, I want my athletes to see that consistency and reliability matter in the long run. When the proverb says, "blessed are his children after him," I see this in the context of coaching as a legacy you leave behind. It means that the habits, behaviors, and standards you model for your athletes will shape how they act—not just during their time with you, but long after they leave your team. What you build today, they carry with them tomorrow. It’s about leaving a lasting impact, one that goes beyond wins and losses and speaks to the kind of people they become.

One Sip at a Time

As I’ve spent more time reflecting on my role as a leader, I’ve come to understand that leadership is about more than just setting the right example in public—it’s about confronting the private battles that no one else sees. Proverbs 20:24 says, 'A man’s steps are from the Lord; how then can man understand his way?' At first, I didn’t fully grasp the meaning of this, but over time it began to make sense. The proverb highlights the mystery of life—how we don’t always understand the paths we take or why we struggle with certain habits. I used to think my addictive tendencies were just quirks of my personality, but as I became more introspective, I realized these patterns were deeper, rooted in both my family history and my personal choices. I may not have all the answers, but I’ve learned that if I’m not careful, these habits can control me. The key is to stay disciplined, even in the small things, because that discipline is what keeps me grounded and on the right path, both for myself and for those who look up to me.

Sharing Sweets and Struggles

Toward the end of my coaching career, and especially now as I write, I’ve come to realize the importance of sharing my struggles with the people who’ve allowed me to have influence in their lives. I’ve been very honest with my athletes about my challenges with addiction—whether it’s caffeine, sugar, or emotional neediness. I remind them that it’s not just athletes who need to be accountable, but also leaders. Accountability isn’t just about the big moments, like getting ready for championship events; it’s about the small moments, too—like when we stop at a gas station during a road trip. I’ve never been afraid to admit that I have weaknesses. In fact, what I’m most proud of is my commitment to working on them. That’s what real discipline is about. That’s the story I want to tell—the story of continually striving to be better, even when no one is watching.

Caffeine, Candy, and Commitment

At the end of the day, Proverbs 20 has taught me that leadership is a journey. It’s about making consistent, disciplined choices, even when it’s hard. Whether I’m standing in front of my team at practice or picking out snacks at a gas station, I know my actions have an impact. And as I work through my own addictive tendencies, I’m learning that the key to being a good leader is not about being perfect—it’s about being accountable. But I will say this: if you’re ever driving through the southern part of the United States, Buc-ee’s has the absolute best sour cherries. Just don’t eat the whole bag—people might be watching.

Here’s the secret: I used a metric-based system that went beyond athletic talent. I didn’t just track speed or strength; I evaluated how recruits treated their parents, how they interacted with teammates during high school meets, and how they conducted themselves in the classroom. I watched for the way they looked me in the eyes during conversations and how attentive they were during phone interviews. Every action and interaction was a point on my scale, because I knew one thing—if they lacked integrity or couldn’t align with our team’s culture of loyalty and trust, they wouldn’t last.

Why I Valued Character Over Pure Talent

As our team grew more successful, more athletes wanted to join. But just because someone was fast or strong didn’t mean they were the right fit. I had seen talented athletes tear apart team dynamics simply because they didn’t understand the importance of trust, loyalty, or integrity. To avoid this, I involved my senior captains in the process—they would vet each recruit, ensuring the potential athletes were not just bringing talent but also the right character.

You see, I didn’t just want fast runners; I wanted athletes who would show up for their teammates, who could build into the collective mission. We valued the long-term vision of our program more than any short-term gain, and to achieve that, I had to ensure every new recruit could fit into our team culture.

But was this method extreme? Maybe. Was it controversial? Absolutely. Yet, I wasn’t willing to sacrifice the integrity of my program for a few extra wins.

Building Trust and Loyalty in Teams: Modern Research

My recruiting process was built on the belief that team dynamics thrive on trust and integrity. Modern research backs this up. Teams that are built on a foundation of trust and loyalty perform better, not just because they have the talent, but because their members feel a deeper commitment to one another. According to research on team cohesion and performance, athletes who trust their teammates and feel supported are more likely to persevere through challenges, communicate openly, and maintain a positive attitude during competition.

Studies in leadership and group dynamics consistently show that teams with high levels of integrity and trust outperform those that rely purely on talent. A 2015 study published in the Journal of Sport Psychology found that the teams with the highest levels of trust also demonstrated the best performance outcomes across multiple metrics—including winning percentages and retention of athletes.

This is exactly why I took the time to evaluate not just the physical capabilities of my recruits, but their character. I needed to know if they would show up when it mattered—not just on the track, but in the moments that tested the team’s resolve.

Proverbs and the Value of Integrity

As controversial as it may sound, the ancient wisdom found in Proverbs 19 supports this very approach.

1. Proverbs 19:1: "Better the poor whose walk is blameless than a fool whose lips are perverse."

   • In recruiting, this verse reminds us that character matters more than external success. We always chose athletes who were honest and genuine over those with talent but questionable attitudes.

2. Proverbs 19:4: "Wealth attracts many friends, but even the closest friend of the poor person deserts them."

   • As we became more successful, more athletes wanted to join us. However, I needed to ensure that recruits weren’t just drawn to our team’s success but would stay loyal through the tough times.

3. Proverbs 19:17: "Whoever is kind to the poor lends to the Lord, and he will reward them for what they have done."

   • This verse reflects why I observed how recruits treated their own teammates at high school meets. Kindness and compassion were crucial qualities we looked for—these traits showed us they would support their future teammates.

4. Proverbs 19:22: "What a person desires is unfailing love; better to be poor than a liar."

   • Loyalty was one of the most important factors in our recruitment process. This verse highlights why we valued recruits who would be loyal to the team, over those who might be talented but lacked honesty or commitment.

5. Proverbs 19:11: "A person’s wisdom yields patience; it is to one’s glory to overlook an offense."

   • We looked for athletes who showed emotional maturity—those who could handle setbacks and stay patient under pressure. This kind of wisdom would keep the team strong through difficult times.

6. Proverbs 19:16: "Whoever keeps commandments keeps their life, but whoever shows contempt for their ways will die."

   • Consistency and discipline were non-negotiable traits for our recruits. Those who couldn’t align with our team’s values would struggle to fit in, no matter how talented they were.

Why This Controversial Approach Was Worth It

Looking back, some might say that my methods were too meticulous, too focused on character when I should have just taken the best athletes available. But I stand by my approach. The teams we built were successful not just because of talent, but because we created a community where athletes trusted each other, held each other accountable, and lived up to our standards.

It’s better to take an athlete with less talent but a blameless walk than one with extraordinary ability but no integrity. Just like Proverbs 19:1 says, “Better the poor whose walk is blameless than a fool whose lips are perverse.” We made tough choices in recruiting, but in the end, the loyalty, trust, and integrity we fostered were what brought true success.

As I walked, trying to stay under the radar, I noticed someone had recognized me. They made eye contact, pointed briefly, and then turned to the person beside them, mouthing my name. We locked eyes again, and they walked toward me—brisk but friendly. The moment they greeted me, calling me by my formal name, I knew this was a former student. They introduced me to the person they were with, their face full of joy, hand gestures warm and inviting.

Then they said something that caught me off guard.

They recalled, with great fondness, something I had said to them years ago. Apparently, during a difficult moment, I told them I believed in them, that I knew they could overcome their challenge, and that I would stand by them as they wrestled with it so we could celebrate their success together. They called it transformative.

I have to be honest: I had no idea what they were talking about. I couldn’t remember the moment, the assignment, or even the conversation. But it was clear to me that something I said on that day made a profound difference in their life. And in that moment, I realized something: the power not just of my attitude but of my words. Whatever had happened that day, however I had felt, somehow, I brought my best, and it landed squarely in that young person’s heart.

Warm Words Works Wonders

This realization brings me to Proverbs 18, which perfectly captures the immense power of our words.

Proverbs 18:21 says, “Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruit.” When I heard that former student describe our conversation, I realized how true this is. The words I spoke were life-giving to them, and though I didn’t recall the moment, it left an impression so deep that it stayed with them for years. Every conversation, every word we offer has the potential to either breathe life into someone or diminish their spirit. In that instance, my words gave life, and the fruit of that moment was the growth and transformation they experienced.

Proverbs 18:4 also resonates here: “The words of a man’s mouth are deep waters; the fountain of wisdom is a bubbling brook.” The words we speak, especially when we believe in someone, can have layers of depth and meaning. What I said, on what seemed to me like an ordinary day, was received as something much deeper—something that nourished their spirit. What’s remarkable is that, in leadership and coaching, we often don’t realize that even small gestures of encouragement or belief can serve as a fountain of wisdom that continuously nourishes those who hear it.

Lastly, Proverbs 18:20 states, “From the fruit of a man's mouth his stomach is satisfied; he is satisfied by the yield of his lips.” This proverb speaks to the lasting satisfaction and fulfillment that comes from speaking wisely. While I might not have known in that moment the impact I was making, I can now see the long-lasting fruit of my words. It’s a reminder that our speech, when rooted in wisdom and belief in others, will always bear good fruit—both for those who receive it and for us when we see its positive effects.

In leadership, coaching, or education, words are our greatest tool. They shape the environment, the attitude, and the mindset of the team. Every word we speak has the potential to build up or tear down. And, as I was reminded in that unexpected encounter in the mall, it’s often the words of encouragement, belief, and support that leave the longest-lasting impressions.

This heartfelt moment also reminds me of the other side of that very touching coin. When I began working in college athletics, the dynamic shifted slightly. I was working with older, more experienced student-athletes, and by “more experienced,” I mean they had already encountered a variety of people—teachers, coaches, mentors—along the way. Unfortunately, many of them had stories of coaches and teachers who used their words as weapons, communicating disappointment and dissatisfaction through harsh and cutting speech.

I can’t tell you how many times an athlete would sit down in my office, recounting moments when a former coach’s or teacher’s strong, negative words deeply affected them. These weren’t stories of encouragement or constructive criticism; these were moments that left a mark, not of motivation, but of self-doubt and discouragement. Occasionally, one of them would even thank me for not using words like that, and I began to see just how much damage careless speech can cause.

Harsh Words Harm Hearts

It makes sense, though. Proverbs 18 has just as much to say about the power of negative speech as it does about the positive. In fact, these three specific verses highlight just how destructive words can be.

First, Proverbs 18:6 states, “A fool’s lips walk into a fight, and his mouth invites a beating.” This proverb perfectly encapsulates how harsh or reckless words can lead to conflict and pain. I’ve seen this firsthand in athletics, where a coach’s unchecked criticism or a teammate’s harsh words created unnecessary tension, leading to arguments and division. Instead of resolving issues or guiding an athlete, negative speech only invites more strife, often making an already difficult situation worse.

Then there’s Proverbs 18:7: “A fool’s mouth is his ruin, and his lips are a snare to his soul.” This speaks directly to the long-term effects of harsh speech. Negative words—whether from a coach or anyone in leadership—can leave lasting damage, not just to the recipient but to the one who speaks them as well. It damages relationships, creates barriers to trust, and, over time, can ruin the culture of a team. I’ve witnessed the aftermath of these situations, where athletes lose faith in their leaders and sometimes even in themselves because of the constant barrage of negativity.

Finally, Proverbs 18:8 says, “The words of a whisperer are like delicious morsels; they go down into the inner parts of the body.” Gossip, criticism, or harsh judgment, especially when spoken behind someone’s back, can seep deeply into a person’s heart. Just like kind words can uplift, harsh words—especially when repeated or spread in whispers—take root in people’s minds and become a source of long-term emotional harm. I remember times when athletes came to me, haunted by things they overheard or learned were said about them. It only takes a few words to plant seeds of doubt, which can grow into insecurities that last for years.

As coaches, leaders, and teachers, it’s easy to overlook the power of our words in moments of frustration. But the truth is, those words can either lift someone up or become a stumbling block. Proverbs 18 reminds us that while our words can heal and build, they can also destroy and divide if not used wisely.

Proverbs 18 and the Power of Words

In the end, Proverbs 18 gives us a clear picture of the power of our words, comparing them to life-giving fountains and fruit. Proverbs 18:4 tells us, “The words of a man’s mouth are deep waters; the fountain of wisdom is a bubbling brook.” Our words, when spoken with wisdom and care, can refresh and sustain those around us, just like a fountain nourishes the thirsty. Similarly, Proverbs 18:20 reminds us that, “From the fruit of a man’s mouth his stomach is satisfied; he is satisfied by the yield of his lips.” Words that are filled with truth, encouragement, and wisdom not only nourish others, but they also yield satisfaction for the speaker, creating a ripple effect of positivity and growth.

But Proverbs is clear: just as words can give life, they can also lead to destruction. On the opposite side of the life-giving fountain is folly. Proverbs 18:2 states, “A fool takes no pleasure in understanding, but only in expressing his opinion.” This is the essence of folly—speaking without wisdom, without thought, and without care for how those words might impact others. Where wise words nourish and build, folly creates chaos. The careless, harsh, or thoughtless words spoken in frustration or anger don’t just dissipate; they linger, eroding trust, confidence, and relationships.

The stark contrast between the fountain of wisdom and the folly of careless speech reminds us how crucial it is to be intentional every day about what comes out of our mouths. Every interaction—whether with a teammate, a student-athlete, or a colleague—is an opportunity to choose between building up or tearing down. Our words, like the fountain, can refresh, bring clarity, and give life—or like folly, they can confuse, discourage, and harm.

As leaders, educators, and coaches, we hold immense responsibility. Every word we speak carries the potential to shape the lives of those we influence. And while we won’t always get it right, we must strive daily to choose words that reflect wisdom, kindness, and encouragement, for in them is the power to bring life and transformation to those we lead.

I had been the assistant coach for this team for two years. Despite holding several head coaching positions in the past, I moved to the South because I believed in what the school had to offer. Coming from Division I, I was excited to be part of a special program as it transitioned into Division II. The head coach, who had led the team for 16 years, brought me on board to handle the distance runners, specifically cross-country.

We had prepared for the race as much as possible—hydration strategies, pacing plans, everything I knew about thermal regulation and endurance. But nothing could prepare the athletes for what happened that day. By the halfway mark of the race, I could already see the writing on the wall. The heat was brutal. Athlete after athlete began to stagger off the course. Some collapsed, disoriented, hallucinating, and calling out. The medical tent looked like a war zone—athletes packed into makeshift cooling tubs, emergency personnel scrambling to treat them, core body temperatures being checked with the urgency of life and death.

One athlete, Alec, pushed himself beyond his limit. By the end of the race, we were arranging for him to go to the hospital. We called his parents to meet him there as we prepared for the long, 12-hour drive back home. This wasn’t just a bad day for the team; it felt like carnage. No one performed well, but for us, it felt particularly devastating.

After the chaos subsided, I approached the head coach. My plan was simple: express my frustration with the championship committee for scheduling the race at 10 AM, knowing full well that the temperatures would be unbearable. I thought we could talk through the issue.

What happened next blindsided me. Instead of sharing in my concern, the head coach immediately launched into criticism. He was furious that I hadn’t consulted him on how to train the athletes for the heat. In his eyes, I had gone rogue, neglecting his experience, and that was unacceptable.

The tension that had been simmering between us for months boiled over in that moment. Right there, in front of the entire Southern school representation at the regional championships, we erupted into a screaming match. The heat of the day paled in comparison to the heat of our argument. Words were thrown back and forth, egos clashed, and under the scorching Florida sun, everything came to a head.

Rising Temperatures, Rising Tempers

Now I don’t want to point any fingers at him. I will take 99% of the blame in this story. But, looking back, it’s no surprise that things between the head coach and me eventually exploded. For two years, we rarely communicated despite both being experienced coaches. We never sat down to strategize, plan, or align our approaches to the athletes. It was as though we were on two separate teams, and the silence between us became the norm. Even on long bus rides—hours of travel where most coaches would collaborate, solve problems, or just get to know each other—we didn’t speak. I traveled next to him, but we might as well have been on different buses.

The truth is, when you neglect communication and fail to address the small issues, they pile up. We never laid the groundwork for handling everyday disagreements or logistical problems. Instead, those issues festered and grew into something much bigger. By the time race day in Lakeland came around, all it took was a spark—the heat, the stress, the poor results—for everything to go up in flames.

Cooling the Flames: Modern Research on Conflict Resolution

Looking back, modern research on conflict resolution helps explain why this blow-up was inevitable. Experts emphasize that assertive communication—clear, respectful, and consistent—is crucial to addressing small frustrations before they escalate into major disputes. Emotional intelligence, the ability to manage our own emotions while understanding others', is another key factor. The lack of communication between us led to a breakdown in emotional regulation. Without collaboration or a shared understanding, our frustration was bound to boil over.

In hindsight, I see that we skipped the most basic steps of building a working relationship. If we had established clear communication and addressed the small things along the way, we might have prevented the big blow-up that happened at the worst possible time.

Keeping Cool Under Pressure: Knowing When to Speak

Proverbs 17 places great emphasis on the restraint of speech, underscoring that not every thought or frustration should be voiced. However, restraint doesn’t mean complete silence or avoidance of conflict—it means knowing when to speak and when to hold back.

• Proverbs 17:1: "Better a dry crust with peace and quiet than a house full of feasting, with strife." This verse suggests that peace is far more valuable than indulgence accompanied by conflict. It highlights how unnecessary disputes or complaints can disturb harmony, even in prosperous situations.

• Proverbs 17:14: "Starting a quarrel is like breaching a dam; so drop the matter before a dispute breaks out." Here, Solomon warns that initiating unnecessary conflict can unleash uncontrollable consequences, just like breaching a dam. This illustrates the importance of discernment in knowing when to speak and when to let things go, understanding that certain issues may not be worth the potential damage they can cause.

• Proverbs 17:27-28: "The one who has knowledge uses words with restraint, and whoever has understanding is even-tempered. Even fools are thought wise if they keep silent, and discerning if they hold their tongues." These verses emphasize the wisdom in controlling one’s tongue. Silence is not the absence of communication but rather a thoughtful decision to avoid escalating conflicts unnecessarily.

That said, Proverbs 17 also makes it clear that avoiding conflict entirely can be problematic. Complete silence or avoiding necessary communication allows unresolved issues to linger and escalate:

• Proverbs 17:9: "Whoever would foster love covers over an offense, but whoever repeats the matter separates close friends." While restraining speech is wise, this verse reminds us that some conflicts must be addressed to foster reconciliation and love. Avoiding these conversations entirely, or bringing them up again without resolution, can damage relationships.

• Proverbs 17:19: "Whoever loves a quarrel loves sin; whoever builds a high gate invites destruction." This verse warns that seeking out conflict is dangerous, but it also suggests that building barriers—metaphorically represented by a "high gate"—invites destruction. Avoiding communication and building walls instead of addressing small issues can ultimately lead to a breakdown in relationships.

• Proverbs 17:10: "A rebuke impresses a discerning person more than a hundred lashes a fool." Necessary confrontation, when done with wisdom and restraint, is beneficial. A discerning person values correction and growth from minor conflicts, unlike a fool who refuses to learn.

Extinguishing the Fire: Lessons Learned

Looking back on that moment in 2017, I now see with clarity how this confrontation could have been avoided. If both my head coach and I had communicated more effectively, set clearer expectations, or addressed the small tensions and past conflicts as they arose, this blow-up might never have happened. We spent two years avoiding conversations that should have taken place, letting unresolved issues fester. By the time the pressure reached its peak, it only took the heat of race day to ignite an explosion.

This experience taught me some hard but valuable lessons as a coach and a leader. I realized that avoiding conflict doesn’t make it disappear. Addressing small issues early on, with emotional intelligence and mutual respect, is the key to preventing minor disagreements from spiraling into major conflicts. I’ve become more intentional about fostering open communication and being proactive in resolving tensions before they grow out of control. Now, I strive to create an environment where my team and I can engage in meaningful discussions, even when it’s uncomfortable because that’s what helps relationships—and teams—grow stronger.

The wisdom from modern research and the insights from Proverbs align perfectly: effective communication and conflict resolution, rooted in emotional intelligence, are essential for maintaining healthy, functional relationships. Proverbs 17 teaches that while restraint in speech is wise, avoiding necessary conversations can be equally damaging. Thoughtfully managing conflict, and balancing patience with assertiveness, paves the way for lasting peace and stability.

Turn Down the Heat: A Call for Reflection

Now, I encourage you to reflect on your own relationships, whether at work, at home, or in your personal life. How do you handle conflict? Are you allowing small issues to simmer under the surface, waiting for them to explode? Do you communicate assertively, or do you avoid difficult conversations until they become unavoidable?

Take a moment to evaluate how you manage communication and conflict. Challenge yourself to apply the lessons from both modern research and Proverbs: address small issues early, with emotional intelligence and a willingness to listen. By doing so, you’ll not only prevent unnecessary blow-ups but also strengthen the relationships that matter most to you.

I’ve been there. My last season coaching high school track and field. I thought I had it all figured out. We were a small school, graduating maybe fifty students a year, but we had something that most small schools don’t have: depth. Hard working athletes stacked from top to bottom. Not a single blue chip athlete, but a team—an actual team—ready to qualify for every relay, and most running events. We were good. We knew it.

And I was in control. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

It was a long season, Ohio winters biting at our heels, but we worked. I worked. Every week, I was crunching numbers, breaking down workouts, holding meetings with coaches and captains, my eyes fixed on one thing—winning the state championship. I stayed up late grading papers and planning lessons, but my mind was always circling back to one thing: What else could I control? How could I out-plan, out-think, out-prepare the competition? Caffeine in one hand, chocolate in the other, I built a strategy that would surely win and a stomach was stirring wildly.

By the time the championships rolled around, we had the greatest number of athletes ever qualified from our school. We had an army. Not a single state champion in the bunch, but we had something better—hard nosed athletes who could compete in every relay, who could grind it out for points. That’s where we could beat teams like Colonel Crawford, the favorites to win. They had studs—an unstoppable thrower in the shot put and discus, a middle-distance phenom, two sprinters that could go head-to-head with anyone. But that was the thing. When you’ve got a kid smashing state meet records, you’re not sweating the details. You send them out, and you watch them work.

Sweating the Small Stuff

Because when you don’t have those one or two athletes who can walk into a championship and know they’re going to win, you scramble. You calculate, recalibrate, try to squeeze out every point possible from every angle. I’d sit down with my captains, week after week, planning, predicting, and pushing. I thought I could control it all.

But then Isaiah happened. Colonel Crawford’s juggernaut thrower. He set a state meet record in the discus, sending that thing 193 feet like it weighed nothing. Not to be outdone, he won the shot put by over four feet. Then there was Carson, their middle-distance runner, cruising to a two-second victory in the mile. Everything I couldn’t control was unfolding right in front of me, and none of the hours I had put in, none of the sleepless nights, none of the calculations mattered in that moment.

I had been running on empty, fueled by the belief that if I just tried harder, worked longer, I could control the outcome. But control wasn’t what I had. It was something else—and it was eating me alive.

Control: Better Known as PRIDE

But here’s the thing about control—it’s not really control at all. It’s pride. Pride sneaks in, disguised as meticulous planning, as hard work, as being the one who carries the weight of it all. Pride whispers that if you can just control every variable, nothing will go wrong. It tells you that your plans, your strategies, your late-night obsession over every detail are foolproof. And so, you overextend. You push yourself, convinced that if you don’t do it, no one else will.

That’s exactly where I was. I was up late every night, grading, planning, reworking our strategy, driving myself into the ground—burning out. Pride convinced me that I had to control it all because my plans were infallible. But that’s the danger, isn’t it? When things don’t go as expected, it hits harder. Mental exhaustion creeps in, and you start to feel the cracks in your armor. Every race that didn’t go our way, every point I couldn’t account for—it all became a reminder that my control was nothing but an illusion.

And that’s the catch: control—or the illusion of it—feeds the exhaustion. It drains you, emotionally, mentally, even physically, because you’re constantly battling something you can’t win. That’s the pride. The more you think you can control, the more you lose yourself in the process.

Victory and Defeat: The Final Relay

I could tell you about how every relay that day shattered school records. How our 4x800 team almost set a state record when they won their event, running their hearts out as if the world depended on it. We were rolling—our sprint relays, despite not having a single standout star, clawed their way onto the awards podium, earning us points no one thought we’d get. And then there was Matt, our middle distance runner, the senior captain who left everything on the track, taking third in the 800m. Jordan, the cross country captain, did the same in the grueling 3200m, also finishing third. We were scoring points, stacking them up, inching closer to the title that had felt so elusive all season.

All we needed to do was win the 4x400, the final event of the meet. N Robinson Colonel Crawford—the team we were chasing all day—wasn't even in that race. It was ours. Our moment. We had posted the fastest time in prelims the day before, and that was with an alternate. Confidence was buzzing through the team. We could almost feel the trophy in our hands. We were ready to end this.

And as that last relay—on the last day of my last high school coaching event—began, everything fell into place. Our team was flying. We were leading, setting a blistering pace, even on track to set a state record. We could taste the victory, the culmination of months of work, hours of planning, and every late-night session where I thought I had control over all the details.

But in the final moments of the race, just before the finish line, Columbus Academy came charging. Out of nowhere, they surged past us. We had given everything, but it wasn’t enough. They beat us, just at the line. And with that, we also lost the team title by one point. We were fast enough top beat the existing state record, but not good enough to beat the maroon Vikings from Columbus Academy.

Proverbs 16: Control is an Illusion

I’ve been writing every day for 16 days now, digging into the wisdom of the Proverbs, trying to understand how these ancient truths apply to the stories of my life. And here’s what I’ve learned from Proverbs 16:1, Proverbs 16:3, and Proverbs 16:9.

Proverbs 16:1 says, "The plans of the heart belong to man, but the answer of the tongue is from the Lord." When I think about all the hours I spent planning, obsessing over every detail of that season, I realize now that it wasn’t the planning that was wrong. We need plans, we need direction. But what I missed was that the final outcome—the answer—was never fully mine to control. No matter how much we prepare, there’s always a point where the result is beyond us.

Proverbs 16:3 says, "Commit your work to the Lord, and your plans will be established." That’s the lesson I wish I had fully understood. I was doing the work, that much is true. But I wasn’t committing it to anything greater than my own vision. I was holding too tightly, thinking that my effort alone could carry us to victory. But the truth is, our plans are only as strong as our willingness to trust that not every outcome is in our hands. Sometimes, the real work is in letting go.

And then there’s Proverbs 16:9, which says, "The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps." This one hits hardest. I thought I could guide our team every step of the way. I thought I could chart our course to the state championship. But in the end, there were steps along the way I couldn’t foresee. Like Columbus Academy surging at the last second. Like the fact that we set a state record and still came up short.

What I’ve learned from these proverbs is that control—the thing I was chasing—is an illusion. It’s pride disguised as effort, and when you cling too tightly to that illusion, you lose sight of the bigger picture. What’s within my control is how I prepare, how I respond, and how I guide my team through the uncertainty. The rest? The rest isn’t mine to own.