THE WEIGHT OF WHAT REMAINS-#1

July 3rd, 2026

If you’ve known me for any length of time, you’ll know that I’ve been thinking about doing this for quite a while. I’ve likely railed about the the struggle, the revelations and even joys associated with my observations. And you’ve likely encouraged me to stop talking about it and to put something together—- to give it a go and see what happens. So thats what this is… the first step to see what happens…. So here we go…

For more than three decades I knew exactly who I was. The clarity was tangible — a name, a title, a role, a track record. Entrepreneur. Executive. Provider. Problem solver. These were not just labels; they were load-bearing walls. They held everything up.

Then the commercial season ended. The walls didn’t come down dramatically — they just quietly stopped being necessary. Which, in some ways, is harder. Emails disappeared, meeting invites stopped and the slow creeping realization that “you aren’t needed” started to seep in. Relevance became a daily question. I had the good fortune of family, friends and the love of a wonderful wife but the hours and days became longer.

The past three years have been an exercise in what I can only call identity archaeology. Scraping back the layers of who I was professionally to find out who I actually am. And what I have found, more often than not, is someone who is not entirely comfortable with the quiet. Not all the time anyway. Someone who reaches instinctively for the familiar criteria — results, momentum, contribution, relevance — only to find they don’t quite apply anymore. I cringed at the word “retirement” and made up my own word of “repurpose”, defining it as the means of finding the “something left to do” in life. People smiled, even laughed at that one, but really it barely touched what I was working through.

The theological word for this, I think, is vulnerability— with thanks to Brene Brown. Thomas Merton wrote about the false self — the carefully constructed identity built on reputation, achievement, and the approval of others — and the true self that lies beneath it, waiting. He suggested that the stripping away of the false self, though deeply uncomfortable, is actually the work of grace, not effort. That what feels like loss is often preparation. Preparation for what is our true self— the self that God intended us to be, before the labels. Mystic and cosmic you may be thinking, and that may be true for many of you. But for some, like me, it’s the necessary plank walk to getting to where I am meant to be.

I want to believe that. Many days I do. Truth be told, too many days I don’t. And in those days the old instincts still work to claw their way back in. The silence is deafening and the invitation to this new place, feels cold and unkempt. Like the bad rental you walk into on an anticipated holiday. If you’ve experienced that you know what I mean… its a sinking feeling.

The tension I live with is this: a lifetime of trusting my own judgement, my own drive and my navigation system—- set up against a God who simply says, “Be still and know I am God (Psalm 46:10). These two perspectives do not reconcile easily. Ambition and submission make uneasy roommates.

So, I show up. Much like the disciples response to Jesus question of “will you also leave me?”, I can only say “but where will I go?”. I am too deep into this now to turn back and too curious to find out where it’s going to end up. That’s enough to keep me engaged. The poems, reflections and entries are the product of someone who’s still figuring it out. Still being led and learning to slowly trust the leading without exactly knowing the final destination. By any definition, it is the walk of faith.

So what can you expect from this section? Well, If I’m doing it right, a weekly entry with a shared piece of wisdom, learning or hope. You might read frustration in many of the entries but I don’t think that disturbs God at all. If I come to understand one thing in the midst of this journey, it is that God values relationship—- and relationship is not always easy. In the end this is a place where I’ll aim to compile things that have helped me in order to help those that might be in the midst of the same. I’m grateful for the chance to do it and thankful to a God who patiently waited me out to get me here.