Faith, family, work, and life - all intertwined.
Permanent deacon of the Diocese of Springfield in Illinois. Husband, father of four sons, builder of Catholic technology, and writer of essays, fiction, and homilies.
"At once they left their nets and followed him." "Immediately they left their boat and their father." Not "let me think about it." Not "after I finish this project." Not "once my life is in order." At once. Immediately.
Somewhere around mile eight, I hit the Presentation again. I run with a finger rosary. It's the only way I've found to pray consistently through a half marathon - my mind wanders, my legs burn, but my thumb keeps moving bead to bead.
It was the summer of 1994 when I kept my vigil in the Order of the Arrow. The OA is Scouting's honor society - you don't apply; your peers select you.
Everyone tells you what to do in your 20s and 30s.Work hard. Build skills. Climb the ladder. Prove yourself. Provide for your family.The path is clear. The metr
There's a moment at Disneyland that gets me every time. You walk through the tunnel beneath the train station, the sounds of the outside world fading behind you. And then you emerge onto Main Street, U.S.A., and the world opens. The castle rises in the distance.
I send at least one handwritten note every week. It's slow. It's inefficient. It can't be scaled. And it lands differently than anything digital ever will
I've been thinking a lot lately about the little moments that shape who we become. It started with a conversation in the car. My son asked me something from his Civics class about speeding tickets
I've spent 30 years leading in media, marketing, and tech. Now I'm building something completely different.Here's why.The SetupI’ve led teams of 100 people to h
In this Sunday's Gospel, Jesus walks along the Sea of Galilee and calls out to Simon and Andrew: "Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men." And then this line that stops me every time: At once they left their nets and followed him.
We hear "repent" and think guilt and shame. But Jesus meant something completely different. #2MinuteHomily for the 3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time Gospel: Matthew 4:12-23
Eighteen months ago, I couldn't run a mile. Not “couldn’t” in the sense of some physical limitation - I just couldn't in the truest sense of the word. I was 46, mildly sedentary, and had never been a runner. When my son Andrew looked at me one day and asked if I'd start running with him to improve both of our health, I had a choice to make.
