Lessons from Katie

1. (00:14:59) The vertical and horizontal gospel. Katie describes healing as having two dimensions — a vertical one (God meeting us directly) and a horizontal one (God meeting us through people). She’s found the horizontal to be the most tangible expression of God’s love in her darkest season.

2. (00:17:56) Ben’s lesson: don’t rush out of it. When Ben was going through something hard, he’d resist Katie’s urge to fix it and say, “God has something to teach me in this — why would I want to jump out too quick?” That posture of staying in the difficulty became foundational to who Katie is now.

3. (00:28:27) Grief comes in waves — forever. Katie no longer believes she’ll ever be finished grieving. The love for Ben didn’t stop, so why would the grief? What changes is your ability to carry it. The waves don’t disappear; you just learn to swim a little better.

4. (00:30:03) Validating emotion makes it smaller, not bigger. Before Ben died, Katie used to try to dampen people’s hard emotions, thinking validation would amplify them. She learned the opposite is true — when someone sits with you in your pain, the pain becomes more bearable, not more overwhelming.

5. (00:38:58) C.S. Lewis gave her permission to question. Reading A Grief Observed — and seeing a revered man of faith struggle openly with God — gave Katie the freedom to wrestle with her own faith without shame. She’s convinced that kind of honest lament is something the church desperately needs more of.

6. (00:41:14) “Can God be trusted?” is a different question than “Does God exist?” Katie could never say God didn’t exist — she’d seen him show up too clearly. But in years two and three, the harder question surfaced: do I want to serve you? That distinction is one of the most honest things I’ve heard someone say about faith after suffering.

7. (00:45:44) God is in the details — before you even know you need them. Two years before Through It All had a logo or a name, a coroner collected sea glass from the beach where Ben died and gave it to Katie. She had no idea what it would become. That kind of providence, she says, is what rebuilt her trust in God — small gifts she couldn’t explain away.

8. (00:57:58) God redeems terrible things — but He doesn’t cause them so we’ll have something to do. Katie was very clear on this distinction. She battled the fear that starting a nonprofit would feel like making Ben’s death useful. Her theology: God is in the business of redemption, not orchestrated tragedy.

9. (01:03:28) Bring your bucket — but don’t take theirs home. One of the most useful images from this conversation: everyone brings their own bucket into a hard conversation. It’s not your job to carry their bucket out with yours. A grieving person needs someone healthy walking beside them, not someone equally weighed down.

10. (01:08:04) Job’s friends were great — until they opened their mouths. The Jewish practice of sitting shiva — where no one speaks until the grieving person does — was exactly what Job needed. Katie believes the church has lost this practice of presence. The most loving thing you can do in the wake of loss is often just to be there, silent, without trying to make yourself more comfortable.

Resources Mentioned

• Through It All Foundation — Katie’s nonprofit equipping churches to care for the grieving

• A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis — the last book Ben ever read, and the first book Katie read after he died

• On Suffering Lovingly by John Mark Comer — a short but powerful reflection on pain, suffering, and joy

Steven Lindenfelser is a graphic designer, musician, voracious reader, and father of two who joined me in his beautifully curated home studio — a space as eclectic and intentional as the man himself. We talked about the origins of his creativity, what it actually means to make something original, how fatherhood is forcing him to rediscover his own childhood, and why AI doesn’t scare him at all. Steven also shared one of the most striking spiritual experiences I’ve ever heard.

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Lessons

1. Your earliest creative memory matters more than you think. (00:38:38) Steven didn’t have a tidy answer about when creativity started — until the question unlocked something: a dinosaur book he made in kindergarten. The pride and wonder he felt after finishing it became a kind of blueprint for what creativity would mean to him for the rest of his life. First memories of making something aren’t small — they’re seeds.

2. There’s a difference between mimicry and original creativity. (00:44:01) Steven and Matt wrestled with what actually makes something “creative.” The conversation landed on a meaningful distinction: mimicry is learning the language; original creativity is when you synthesize your influences into something distinctly yours. As Steven put it, we’re all branching off the same creative tree — but the branch you grow is your own.

3. Creative process matters more than creative output. (00:55:40) Inspired by the artist CJ Hendry, who spends a week or more on each hyper-realistic colored pencil piece despite the existence of AI that could replicate it in seconds, Steven made the case that the process of creating is the point. The satisfaction doesn’t live in the final product — it lives in the hours you put in to get there.

4. Your creative space is a physical map of your inner world. (00:03:55) Steven’s studio — stacked with typography books, vintage records, car artifacts, and mid-century design objects — isn’t just aesthetic. It’s a curated environment built to sustain and prompt creative thought. He noted that even when he ends up on Pinterest anyway, the physical space holds a kind of backup energy he can reach for when he’s really stuck.

5. Parenting is a second childhood — with all your baggage. (00:30:51) Both Matt and Steven reflected on how having young kids puts you back in the middle of the very emotional and developmental experiences you lived through yourself — except now you’re carrying every lesson, wound, and habit from your own upbringing. The challenge is staying self-aware enough to give your kids something better without overcorrecting.

6. Structure and creativity aren’t opposites — but the line is personal. (01:11:46) Steven’s mom was a homeschool drill sergeant who pushed piano lessons hard. The result? He plays today. But his friend Levi got the same treatment with tennis — and now won’t touch a racket. The takeaway isn’t a formula. It’s that fostering creativity in your kids requires knowing that specific kid — how much to push, how much to let them wander, and what they’ll hold against you later.

7. Sometimes God shows up in the most unexpected vessels. (01:27:18) The most powerful moment of the conversation came at the end: Steven’s sister has a seizure disorder that wipes her short-term memory. On two separate occasions, she woke from a seizure and — with complete clarity — looked at Steven and said, “Jesus loves you. He wants you to pursue your passions.” Then she’d slip back into disorientation with zero recollection of what she’d said. It became the cornerstone of his faith. Some messages find their way through in ways that defy easy explanation.

If you want to learn more about Milele or Barnabas Group, links are in the show notes below.

Links:

• Cassie on LinkedIn: linkedin.com/in/cassie-furnari-60b503102

• Milele Home: milelehome.org

• Barnabas Group OC: barnabasgroupoc.org

We discuss:

• The origin story of Milele and how Cassie stumbled into founding it (0:43)

• Growing up in a missions-minded family and how it shaped her heart (5:13)

• How Cassie protects herself from burnout leading a demanding nonprofit (5:59)

• Addressing root causes — why Milele works with families, not just the boys (8:40)

• The “Restore” step: physical, spiritual, and emotional rehabilitation on-site (11:55)

• Building and succession planning around key local leaders Joel and Margaret (13:29)

• A tour of the new campus: farm, chapel, courts, counseling center, and more (14:34)

• Her advice for young professionals wanting to get involved in grassroots work (16:35)

• The vision for Milele as a training hub — not just replication (19:14)

• The spiritual warfare Cassie felt the moment the campus opened (21:46)

10 lessons from my conversation with Cassie Furnari:

1. (0:43) The best organizations are often built by accident. Cassie wasn’t trying to start a nonprofit. She was finishing an internship, met twelve boys on the streets, tried to hand them off to other organizations, and was told no. That gap — and her refusal to accept it — is where Milele began.

2. (2:01) “I can’t leave without doing something” is a calling in disguise. That phrase is one of the most honest descriptions of vocation I’ve heard. Cassie didn’t have a vision statement or a five-year plan. She had a conviction she couldn’t ignore.

3. (3:17) Locally-led is not just a strategy — it’s a value. From the beginning, Cassie wanted what she was building to be owned by Kenyans. She found Joel and Margaret — a pastor and a trained social worker — who became the true architects of Milele’s culture and impact. That humility has made the work sustainable.

4. (5:13) The seeds of calling are planted early. Cassie grew up going to Mexico and Kenya with her family through their church. She didn’t manufacture her passion — it was cultivated in her over years of early exposure to global need. Pay attention to where your heart was opened young.

5. (5:59) Burnout doesn’t announce itself — it accumulates. Cassie shared honestly that this last season has been the closest to burnout she’s felt. It took outside community — not just her own willpower — to recognize it and respond. The people around us often see what we can’t.

6. (7:42) Empowering your team is the best anti-burnout strategy. Because Cassie trusts her team in Kenya, she can actually step away. Permission to rest only works if you’ve built people who are empowered to run without you.

7. (9:50) Per one boy served, eight people in his family are impacted. That’s not a statistic — that’s a philosophy. Milele doesn’t just help boys get off the streets. They go into homes, work with mothers, run addiction recovery courses, and partner with local churches. The ripple effect is the point.

8. (12:21) You can’t go straight from the streets into school. The “Restore” phase exists because there’s a gap — not in resources, but in readiness. Trauma-informed care, physical detox, discipleship, life skills: these create the bridge between where someone is and where they can go.

9. (17:36) “Your vocation is where the world’s deepest need and your greatest gladness meet.” This quote from Cassie’s college days has stayed with her ever since — and it shows. The advice she gives young people isn’t about résumés or roles. It’s about finding where your specific fire meets a specific need.

10. (21:46) Big breakthroughs invite spiritual opposition. After four years of planning, designing, and fundraising, the Milele campus finally opened. And almost immediately, Cassie said it felt like everything was coming against them. She framed it simply: “I don’t think we’re making the enemy happy right now.” There’s something worth sitting with in that.

About Cassie Furnari: Cassie Furnari is the founder and president of Milele Home, a rescue and recovery nonprofit serving homeless young men in Kenya. What started as an act of stubborn compassion at the end of a college internship has grown into a fully-staffed residential campus offering physical restoration, trauma-informed counseling, faith-based discipleship, vocational training, and family intervention. Cassie is also a member of the Barnabas Group OC’s Emerging Leaders cohort, where she continues to develop alongside other young leaders in ministry and business. She lives in Southern California with her husband and kids.

Noah is a pastor, husband, father, and thoughtful friend who spends his mornings making espresso and being present with his daughter before the busyness of the day begins.

We begin with a quote from Pierre Teilhard de Chardin about trusting the slow work of God—accepting the anxiety of feeling yourself in suspense and incomplete. We talk about how deep thinking comes from reading the ancients, why the Jesuits produce such contemplative writers, and Noah’s love for early church fathers like Justin Martyr and C.S. Lewis. Noah shares his conviction that character development is the slowest, most patient work—looking back on his younger self and realizing he wasn’t nearly as mature as he thought.

Noah opens up about a pivotal season in youth ministry when everything seemed to be failing—doing all the right things but watching the numbers dwindle. Then one girl encountered God in a nearly empty room, and he learned that if he’d been focused only on the end goal, he would have missed the beauty of that moment. We discuss the humility required to listen to those who’ve gone before us, why we don’t grow alone, and how reading ancient writers reveals we’re rarely as novel as we think. Noah wrestles with atonement theories, the anxiety of wondering where the world is going as a father, and why individual actions matter even when the problems feel too big to solve.

Trust the slow work of God in your character, read broadly and humbly from those who’ve come before, and remember that you can’t change the world if you’re apathetic—but your small daily actions actually can have global impact.

Lessons from Noah

1. Social pressure can be a tool for productivity. (4:40) When asked if social pressure motivates him, Noah responds immediately: “Thousand percent.” He loves coffee shops but has discovered libraries are the most underrated places—free, quiet, and full of social accountability. The presence of others working keeps him from falling into YouTube rabbit holes. Sometimes the constraint of knowing someone might see your screen is exactly what you need to stay focused. Productivity isn’t always about willpower—sometimes it’s about engineering the right environment.

2. Character development is the slowest work you’ll ever do. (19:03) Noah reflects on what he thought would be faster in life: “I think the slowest thing that’s taken a lot of work that I thought would be faster is my character.” At every stage—teenage years, young adult, mid-twenties, now approaching thirties—he thought he was farther along than he really was. “I underestimated the amount of work in discipline and honestly partnership with the Spirit of God to move me into a person replicating the kingdom of God.” Looking back, he sees he wasn’t nearly as patient, loving, or kind as he thought. Character is built slowly, and you only realize how much work remains with time.

3. Busyness is the Americanized metric for success—and it’s backwards. (20:54) Noah critiques the cultural reflex: when you ask someone how they’re doing, the answer is “busy.” Being busy has become a status symbol in Orange County—if you’re busy, you must be doing well. But the actual ideal? “Not doing anything. It’s like chilling and having so much money that you can just do whatever you want.” Both extremes are wrong. Somewhere between hustle culture and idle wealth is the real answer—work as gift, not curse or identity. The Genesis story shows Adam and Eve given work to tend the garden before the fall. Work isn’t evil, and it’s not everything. It’s something God designed us for.

4. Work your youth away, and your character won’t change on a dime. (23:22) Noah observes the modern trap: “I will work and it will be my identity. And it will be my everything. And then after I work my youth away, make enough money, and then in my old age, somehow my character is going to change on a dime.” He points to multi-billionaires who never retire despite having more money and power than they could ever want. There’s an illusion there—of success, of satisfaction. If you build your life around work now, retirement won’t magically fix you. The person you’re becoming in the grind is the person you’ll be at the end. Character doesn’t reset.

5. The days are long, the years are short—and parenting is a practice in patience. (25:45) Every parent knows the saying, but Noah unpacks what it actually means: “Parenting is a tension of patience in multiple ways. It’s the patience of being with your child as they’re throwing a tantrum while also being patient and knowing that you’re present with a child while having to do a hundred other things.” You can’t just drag your kids through life like luggage. They’re more like a garden—stationary, needing tending, requiring you to slow down and put down roots. People who moved around constantly as kids rarely speak of it positively. Deep-rooted, long-term stability matters for children.

6. When everything seems to be failing, you might be missing what God is actually doing. (36:47) Six to eight months into rebuilding a post-COVID youth ministry, Noah and his team were doing everything right—but the numbers kept shrinking. His coordinator said, “We’re doing everything right and it just seems to not be working.” That same week, the ministry was the smallest it had ever been. But that night, a girl and her dad showed up late, encountered God, and she found the friend she’d been praying for. Noah learned: “If I was only focused on the end, I would have missed that.” The 170 kids who eventually came took two years of grinding, gardening, and trusting God does the growth. But the real fruit was in the small, seemingly insignificant moments along the way.

7. You don’t grow alone—there’s no such thing as spiritual formation in isolation. (41:17) Youth ministry taught Noah a fundamental truth: “We do not grow alone. There’s no such thing as growing alone.” As a youth pastor, you realize you’re limited—you need leaders who take time out of their lives to pour into the next generation. Formation happens in community. The African proverb holds: “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” Noah rejects the myth of the self-made man. Somewhere along the way, someone helped you—whether it was someone cleaning bathrooms so you could focus elsewhere or a business partner investing alongside you. Both had equal benefit. Formation is done together.

8. Reading the ancients reveals you’re rarely as novel as you think. (51:26) Noah’s love for Jesus has made him curious about the church across thousands of years. What he’s found: “There’s very rarely something new under the sun that I’m thinking about, and that I’m not novel.” When he reads ancient writers, they critique him—and they’re dead, which makes it both hard and lovely. Americans think they’re progressive, pushing the timeline forward. But when you read history, you realize: “There are things that they did do wrong and have done wrong, and there are things that we are doing wrong currently, and things that they were actually more enlightened in than we are today.” Humility comes from reading people and realizing you’re not the smartest person who’s ever existed.

9. Humility means listening to those who’ve gone somewhere you haven’t. (31:11) Noah describes his current season: “I’m having to humble myself and learn humility well, and listen to those who have gone before me and to trust that they may actually have gone somewhere that I haven’t gone yet.” There’s something in him that doesn’t always want to listen to someone older—that’s pride. The work is stopping, considering, and taking correction or guidance from an older person who says, “Hey, I’ve been here a little bit longer than you. Press the brakes in your early career.” Not passive, always pouring back in—but humble enough to receive wisdom from those ahead on the path.

10. Children teach you humility—they have nothing to offer but dependence. (34:01) In Jesus’ time, children weren’t elevated like today—they were looked down on because they couldn’t offer society anything. But Jesus says we must come to Him like children. Noah sees it in his daughter: “She’ll stop and she’ll look at something and she’s like amused by it and she’s enjoying it and she’ll like so present.” The humility is stopping with her, sitting in the grass, not rushing her along. “There’s a humility to stop with her and just to sit in the grass and like yeah this is good.” Children model total dependence, openness, presence—exactly what Jesus calls us to.

11. The hard question: where is the world going as a dad? (56:50) Noah wrestles with an existential anxiety that’s intensified since becoming a father: “Where is the world going?” It’s a question that gives him anxiety, burning in the background all the time. He doesn’t have an answer to the future except this: “Jesus will return and Jesus will be victorious and all the things that I’m worrying about right now there will be a coming age of the kingdom of God.” How much control does he have over big tech, governments, wars—or even his own life? He has to run to Jesus multiple times a week, sometimes multiple times a night lying in bed. The only anchor is trusting the one who holds the future.

12. You’re not apathetic just because you can’t change everything. (1:00:39) Matt shares his struggle with indifference in the face of massive problems—if he can’t solve world-scale issues, why try? Noah pushes back: “You do have an ability to make change through your individual life.” There’s a desire in our culture—fueled by social media and overwhelming information—to become apathetic. “I can’t change, so why even try.” But there’s something deeply Christian about saying: “The kingdom of heaven is now. So I should take action. I should be moving as a father, as a brother, as a sister, as somebody in this world who needs to bring righteousness and justice into the world.” Even small individual action matters. Apathy isn’t faithfulness.

13. Your small daily decisions shape where the world is going. (1:00:13) Matt connects the big question to the small one: “It’s all related to the same—where is the world going? Oh, it is going in the direction of the decisions that I make today about my family.” When he pulls the scope out, he realizes: if he wants to see change in the world, it starts with being the example of that change. We learn by the habits of people around us. If you want your kids to embody something, you have to live it. The Holy Spirit does the work, but your daily choices create the soil where growth happens. The world’s trajectory is shaped by millions of small, faithful decisions.

14. Suffering can produce great beauty—but that doesn’t make the suffering good. (1:04:31) Noah reflects on Dietrich Bonhoeffer—would we have his books without the Nazis? It’s a hard question. History shows that sometimes suffering produces something profound. “Not to say by the way the genocide is good suffering—like no, evil, wrong—but in the midst of a great tragedy something can be made.” He’s careful to hold the tension: suffering isn’t good, but God can bring beauty out of it. “I have found and history tells that sometimes suffering produces a great thing and the benefit on the other end of it is beautiful.” The pruning is painful, but it produces fruit you wouldn’t have otherwise.

15. His wedding day taught him to enjoy fleeting moments. (1:08:49) When asked about a top-of-the-world moment, Noah chooses his wedding day. What it taught him: “Enjoy the moment. Enjoy every moment of it because I would hear all the time it’s fleeting.” Now, years into marriage, he looks back at pictures trying to remember what it felt like. The sweetness of that day is gone in one sense—but the lesson remains. Pay attention. Be present. The moment won’t come back. And for the valley moments? “It will pass. You just have to walk through it. And probably will be painful, but it will pass.”

Jake Hartson is a husband, father, veteran, and entrepreneur who recently transitioned into full-time ministry with Search Ministries, an organization that helps Christians and their friends give space to work through life’s biggest questions

He shares the tension of “mission first, people always”—a military value he watched fail in ministry contexts where mission became an excuse to forsake loving people well. He opens up about fatherhood as his greatest challenge, the question “what does love require?” that guides his parenting, and why he wants his kids to inherit his curiosity and his wife Kinsey’s empathy. We discuss navigating transitions by starting with why, the hard work of setting boundaries after the military handed them to him for years, and how he’s learning that submission in marriage starts with leading well, not demanding compliance.

Enjoy.

Lessons from Jake Hartson

1. “I’m willing to go, so why not me?” (9:18) Jake’s reason for joining the military at 17 wasn’t patriotic bravado or warrior identity—it was simpler than that. “There are so many other people out there, families and people that don’t want to go or they don’t want to send their sons or their husbands or whatever it might be. I was like, I’m here. I’m willing to go. I’m not a warrior. I don’t see myself as a warrior, but I’m willing to go, so why not me?” This posture of willingness without self-aggrandizement became foundational. Not everyone needs to be a hero. Sometimes the most valuable thing you can do is just be willing when others aren’t.

2. The military gave him the discipline his chaotic mind needed. (13:29) Jake describes himself as “very chaotic” and a “shiny object kind of guy.” The military didn’t change that—it gave him structure to work within it. “That gave me like the disciplined way of thinking about things and there is a process and there are processes that are really helpful. You don’t have to always create something new.” For creative, entrepreneurial types, systems aren’t constraints—they’re scaffolding that keeps you from getting lost in possibility. The question isn’t whether you need discipline, but what kind of discipline fits how you’re wired.

3. Lead by influence when you can’t lead by authority. (14:17) At 22, Jake became a platoon leader responsible for 30 soldiers—all of them older than him, many with combat experience he didn’t have. “I can’t lead by just by I’m older than you. I’m wiser than you. I’m smarter than you. It literally is just like I have to lead by influence.” He spent time with them, asked questions, built trust. Other West Point grads came in with pride and got pushback. Jake came in with humility and got buy-in. “My plans would come out of their ideas. It gave them validation and it helped with their pride in a good way.” Authority might get compliance, but influence gets commitment.

4. Collaboration builds better plans—and better teams. (16:36) Jake’s leadership style wasn’t top-down; it was collaborative. He’d bring problems to his guys, work through solutions together, let them shape the plan. “I have some ideas but I would much rather collaborate around this and have built the best idea. And I think they appreciated that.” The result wasn’t just better plans—it was ownership. When the plan fails, it’s theirs too. When it succeeds, they know they built it. That kind of shared ownership is what separates teams that execute from teams that comply.

5. Training to think like the enemy makes you better at your mission. (21:16) As an opposing force trainer, Jake learned to think like the Taliban—how they’d set IEDs, how they’d respond to tactics. “I know how to make an IED and a bomb. That’s not a class you get to pick up off of Coursera.com.” But the skill wasn’t in bomb-making—it was in adopting the enemy’s perspective. “My plans are now informed not based off our doctrine or how we would do it but based off how the enemy is going to respond.” The same principle applies everywhere: if you only understand your own perspective, you’re fighting blind. Understanding the opposition—whether it’s spiritual warfare or competitive strategy—sharpens everything.

6. “Mission first, people always” only works if people actually come first. (27:48) The Army’s value is “mission first, people always”—laser focus on the goal without forsaking the people achieving it. But Jake saw that same language used in ministry to justify the opposite. “It wasn’t people always. It was like kind of at the expense of people.” The mission was the Great Commission, but loving people—the actual mark of being Christ’s disciple—was treated as secondary. “How do we have this great mission but then strategize and operationalize those values that you’re talking about and actually put people first and take care of them so that they can accomplish this mission?” The tension is real, but if the mission requires forsaking people, you’ve already failed the mission.

7. In most contexts, it should be “people first, mission always.” (31:05) After wrestling with military and ministry models, Jake landed here: “Really I’m still kind of convinced... it really should be people first mission always. At the end of the day always put people first because at the end of the day that’s what we are we’re humanity we’re operating with one another but you can always be thinking about how that mission fits into that.” If you forsake people to achieve the Great Commission, “you’ve literally just not achieved your mission. So you fail your mission because you didn’t put people first.” The mission doesn’t go away—it just stops being the excuse for harm.

8. Fatherhood is his greatest challenge because there’s no playbook. (32:13) The military gave clear mission statements at every level—from grand strategy down to four-person team objectives. Fatherhood doesn’t work that way. “There’s no playbook or prescription. Every kid is different, every circumstance is different.” He can’t just force it through like a military objective. “How do I lead in this moment? It doesn’t need just force to drive it through.” The lack of clear guidance is terrifying for someone who thrives on structure, but it’s also where the real growth happens—learning to lead without a manual.

9. “What does love require?” cuts through the complexity. (35:03) When Jake feels stuck on how to parent, he comes back to Andy Stanley’s question: “What does love require?” Sometimes his son needs rigidity and authority. Sometimes he needs Jake on his knees at eye level saying, “Hey look, I respect you but you also have to listen to what I’m saying.” Love doesn’t mean permissiveness or control—it means discernment. “What does love require” forces you to ask what this specific person needs in this specific moment, not what’s easiest or what proves you’re in charge.

10. The early years are more formational than we realize. (35:52) Jake’s son is three, and he constantly reminds himself: “I’m always so convicted about how impressionable and how foundational this time period is... the beginning is just like it’s hard to comprehend how much they’re taking in and they’re learning and they’re working through and the way that they’re gonna view the world their whole life in many ways is like the work that we’re doing now as parents.” It’s terrifying because you’re thrust into it with no experience during the most pivotal time. “How could I possibly do this without relationship with Jesus? I don’t know how parents that don’t have that relationship deal with this.”

11. Your parenting reveals itself in your kids—but you can’t always tell what’s you and what’s them. (37:12) Jake’s daughter loves control and order. Is that because she’s firstborn, or because Jake and Kinsey were scared new parents who brought control into everything? “Now she’s the one—why is this on the ground, this should not be on the ground. We just made a little second mother.” They want her to be artistic and free, but she cares about clean and orderly “because that’s what we cared about.” The nature vs. nurture question haunts every parent: “Where does that play in? How do you decipher that?” You can’t always tell if you’re helping or hindering.

12. The goal is a relationship that lasts beyond childhood. (38:48) Jake’s objective isn’t perfect kids—it’s lifelong relationship. “I want to be able to be in their life for as long as I’m alive. I pray that they outlive me but I want a relationship with them. I don’t want it to be like oh man I’m so glad I got out of their house and don’t want to go back.” He’s seen too many people with broken parent relationships where pride and being right mattered more than love. “How do you love them? Is love the ultimate goal of parenting versus like showing them what’s right and dying on that hill and being prideful in that?”

13. Eye contact is the most important thing you can give young kids. (42:44) Someone told Jake early on: “The most important thing that you can give a kid when they’re really young is eye contact. It’s not even really about what you say, it’s literally just are you looking at their eyes.” That’s brutally hard with phones. “I’m listening but I’m scrolling or I’m doing something else, maybe not even scrolling, it could be like checking my calendar for tomorrow to make sure I’m punctual or whatever—it looks the same to the kid but to them it’s like I just never got my dad’s eyes.” His daughter now climbs on the couch and grabs his face to turn it toward her. Message received.

14. He wants his kids to have his curiosity and Kinsey’s empathy. (45:17) When asked what traits he wants his kids to inherit, Jake chose curiosity for himself—the ability to dream, ask questions, wonder “what if this happened?” His daughter wants answers immediately; his son wants to figure it out himself. For Kinsey: empathy. “She just knows people really well. She can have a sense of what they’re thinking and feeling before I even have any opportunity. I probably have to ask 20 questions—now I understand what you’re thinking and feeling—where she’s like I didn’t even have to ask any questions, I just kind of knew it empathetically.” Good questions from him, natural understanding from her—together, their kids might get both.

15. Start with why, then say no to everything else. (50:29) When navigating transitions, Jake starts top-down: “What am I actually trying to get towards?” Not everyone works this way—some people start bottom-up with action and find the why later. But for Jake, clarity on purpose creates the constraints that make action possible. When he and Kinsey moved back to California with a baby and no job, he knew: high-mission organization, flexibility to be home with kids, work that has impact. Consulting fit his strengths but required Monday-Thursday travel. “Immediately it was like well that doesn’t fit within my why.” The why isn’t just aspirational—it’s a filter that makes decisions easier.

This is a Q&A session following the main conversation with Hyatt and Anne Moore. The group asks questions about marriage, art, finding God in everyday life, managing creative pursuits alongside other responsibilities, and Anne’s role as a creative partner. Hyatt shares stories about God’s creativity and provision, including the miraculous job offer at Surfer Magazine that came on the same day he was fasting and praying about money. Anne opens up about adaptability as her core strength and her role in supporting Hyatt’s work while pursuing her own art.

Questions Asked and Summary of Responses

1. Tell us about marriage. (1:11)

Hyatt shares that he got married on four days’ notice and it’s been 60 years—”the best thing I ever did” except for accepting the Lord. A job offer came across the country, and he had to decide immediately. He and Anne were best friends and lovers but hadn’t been talking about marriage. When he realized he was leaving, they decided to get married that week, and the next day they moved to Georgia. “Five children, great life. It’s not been all great for her, but it’s been all great for me.”

2. Can you identify one piece of art in this room that means something special to you and share about it? (2:58)

Hyatt says there isn’t one piece that stands out over others—”They’re like my children.” He mentions a few he likes: a wide painting of Africans being baptized going to Ethiopia for missions, and a worshiper on the wall that was a commission. His art shows diverse interests—dancers (because he likes figures in motion), flowers (because they’re “God’s color”), and abstract mixed with realism. He gave up trying to be “the artist of such and such” and just explores what interests him.

3. What’s the most interesting thing that the Lord has done with you or that you’ve learned about God? (5:04)

Hyatt shares the story of fasting and praying about money when he and Anne were barely making it financially. He went to the hills, got rained out, ended up at the old Surfer Magazine office, and was unexpectedly offered his old art director job back—part-time hours for a full-time salary. The publisher said, “What have you been asking for?” Hyatt said he was asking for money but not a job. God responded, “Well, how do you get money? Usually that’s where it comes from.” The lesson: “God became more open-minded and more creative than I was giving him credit for. I had him in my little religious [box]... God’s bigger than all that. And let him be that way in your life.”

4. How do you practically seek the Lord—like deciding to take a whole week to walk with God? (9:56)

Hyatt reflects that while he’s had powerful experiences, he wonders why he doesn’t have them every day—he gets busy with normal life. He thinks “the Lord enjoys what we would call normal life. We want the miracle; he says, you know, the miracles—your body, for example, it’s all working.” He compares it to Jesus healing the maimed—when they’re healed, they’re back to normal, which everyone else has been experiencing all along without thinking about it. “I think normal is pretty special. We just don’t remember it.”

As for finding God in special moments: “All of a sudden, we’ve got some stress. That’s when we’ll think, okay, I got it. Then we do it. We start zeroing in on them, and we find the answers one way or another.” He asks for wisdom constantly—even mid-sentence when writing or painting. “Creativity I’ve decided is nothing but problem solving.” Wisdom is promised, so when he asks and God says go ahead, it comes. “When he says seek God and you find it, he never says how to seek God. It’s more of an attitude.”

5. What do you think about pursuing creative endeavors when you don’t have time, when you’re bogged down with other things but have something on your heart you wish you had more time to be creative with? (14:25)

Anne responds: She gives herself permission for creative blocks of time only when everything else is taken care of. She tries to set things on a calendar—”OK, I can’t do it today, but if I can put it on a calendar, I’m going to do these days.” She encourages people to take a class where they’re forced to commit. She was impressed by a couple going into missions who determined each would have a hobby and permission to spend time developing it. “I struggle with that all the time. I try to get a block of art ready for a show and it’s hard to give myself permission to do it.”

Hyatt adds that twice a year they go away for at least two weeks to an uninterrupted art-making retreat—they drive, bring easels, paints, supplies, a press. “Absolutely love it.” But he acknowledges you can’t always do that in earlier life stages.

6. Anne, how do you manage someone like Hyatt who has such rampant creativity? How do you focus that energy, or work through all his different vast interests and projects? Are you collaborating or a sounding board? (17:28)

Anne shares that her main strength (from Clifton StrengthsFinder) is adaptability. “I can change my plans, so that’s a big part of it.” She’s always felt her role was to support Hyatt. Having her own art is harder for her to put at an equal level—not that their art is equal, but giving it equal value in her life. “Keeping things in order so he can work is a big part of my life, which I’m happy [about]—I am a servant. I love that, and he has given me an interesting life for sure.” She feels blessed with kids, grandkids, and all those things. “Art is one area for me, but it’s not my whole life.”

Hyatt adds: “It’s easier being a man. You women know what I’m talking about.”

Bonus mention: Hyatt shares he’s currently writing a book called Snippets: How to Get Anything Done—one-page pieces of wit and advice about the mind, where “the clutter is and the opposition is.” He writes a little bit every day, whatever comes to mind. It’ll end up being about 31 ways or something similar.

Hyatt Moore is an artist, former missions leader (Wycliffe Bible Translators), and the first art director of Surfer Magazine. We discuss navigating the mystery of what it means to be faithful to your gifts. He’s been married to Anne for over five decades and has lived three distinct careers—each one marked by surrender.

We begin with Hyatt’s first career transition—from technical illustrator to art director at Surfer Magazine at 26, and the decision to bring Anne to the interview because “one doesn’t just hire a set of capabilities, but a whole person.” We talk about his conversion in a cheap hotel room in Mexico, the moment he decided to become “a man of God” without knowing what that meant, and the terrifying week of walking in empty fields wrestling with what it would cost to dedicate his life to God.

Hyatt shares the story of giving it all up—the Porsche, the sailboat, the house, the creative career—to serve in missions in Guatemala. He opens up about sitting in the print shop doing menial work day after day, telling God “I told you I would serve you with my life, even if it’s boring,” and how passing that test changed everything. We discuss the difference between chasing opportunities and following a calling, why your gifts are seeds that must be cultivated, and his conviction that “being faithful to your gift” is being faithful to God.

We also explore his transition to becoming a painter, the moment God told him “I thought that was one of the good ones” when Hyatt said “it’s only art,” and why he believes everything that isn’t sin is of God. And Hyatt leaves us with the question he’s wrestling with at 77: How do you build a big mansion in heaven?

I hope this conversation challenges you to die to your claim on an interesting life, run with the gifts you’ve been given without demeaning them, and trust that God gives back a hundredfold what you surrender to Him.

Lessons from Hyatt Moore

1. You hire a whole person, not just capabilities. (5:08) When interviewing for the art director role at Surfer Magazine, Hyatt brought Anne along. His reasoning: “One doesn’t just hire a set of capabilities, but a whole person. And that person can be better known by the company he keeps, and in this case, the wife that he marries.” This wasn’t just about impressing an employer—it was about recognizing that who you’re becoming is inseparable from the community you cultivate and the relationships that shape you. The people closest to you reveal who you are.

2. The Porsche, sailboat, and great job won’t fill the emptiness. (16:02) At 26, Hyatt had everything he thought would make life fun—the Porsche, sailboat, beautiful wife, great job as an art director. “How come it isn’t? I got everything. How come?” He started searching, experimenting with ecology and positive thinking, but nothing worked. His health was failing. He felt like a dying old man. The external success couldn’t touch the internal void. “I knew I was empty, and I didn’t know how to be not empty.”

3. Sometimes you take the invitation just to see what happens. (20:40) Reading his dad’s prophecy book in a cheap hotel in Mexico, Hyatt kept speed-reading through the invitations to believe. On the last page: “I thought, if I take it, well, who knows? If I don’t take it, I’ll just go on to the next book and forget about this one. That’s how it is.” So he took it—alone, in a little room, face to the wall. Nothing happened in that moment. But the next day on a walk in Mazatlan, everything changed. “This is the first right thing I’ve done in 10 years.” That invitation he almost skipped became the hinge of his entire life.

4. Deciding to be “a man of God” before knowing what it means. (23:13) A year into his faith, Hyatt was reading scripture one evening when the thought came: “I’m going to be a man of God.” He didn’t know what he meant, but he was “further aligning myself with that reality.” Looking back now, the conviction is still there, though the question remains: “Do I feel that way every day?” That decision led to other things—it was “another cog” in the machine God was building. You don’t need the full picture to take the next step of alignment.

5. The terrifying week of dying to your claim on an interesting life. (25:32) Hyatt felt called to dedicate his whole life to God, but he was afraid. For a week, he walked in empty Dana Point fields every evening after work, getting closer to saying yes. “Once I say it, that sort of means it. And I’m afraid of it. Because I’m afraid of what, all I can think of is what it’ll cost me.” He loved being a graphic designer—it was his identity, skill, and occupation. He thought there were no graphic designers in the kingdom. The hardest part? Giving up his claim to an interesting life. “It may not be interesting. Now are you going to say yes?” By the end of the week: “I’ll say yes. God, I want to dedicate my life to you. And if it’s boring, well, it’s only 60 or 70 more years.” He said it with resolution, not joy. But he said it.

6. All commitments are tested—pass the test so you don’t have to take it again. (31:07) In the Guatemala print shop, Hyatt was doing menial work day after day with no creativity. “Lord, I told you I would serve you with my life, even if it’s boring. And sure enough, this is boring.” Then he realized: “I wonder if this is a test. And in fact, I think all commitments are tested.” He decided to pass it—”I’ll do it with a good attitude”—and he never had to take that test again. His life in terms of interest has gone up ever since. “That’s the very thing I had to die to. And that’s the thing that God gives back a hundred times in this life as he promises.”

7. The thing you surrender is the thing God gives back a hundredfold. (32:06) Hyatt had to die to his claim on an interesting life. Now people walk up to him and say, “You have had an interesting life.” He responds: “That’s it. That’s the very thing I had to die to. And that’s the thing that God gives back a hundred times in this life as he promises.” The pattern repeats throughout scripture and throughout his story—the thing you hold most tightly is the thing God asks you to open your hand on. Not to take it away, but to give it back multiplied. But you have to actually let go first.

8. Following your calling means you’re happy—chasing opportunities might not. (33:13) When asked about the difference between chasing opportunities and following a calling, Hyatt’s answer was simple: “I think if you’re following your calling, you’re happy. And you may or may not be happy if you’re just trying stuff.” You can often change things and find out it wasn’t the right path—you’ve got to get back on track. But when you find your calling, you find who you are. Happiness doesn’t mean every moment is easy, but there’s a deep settledness even in the hard seasons.

9. Give yourself to God, then do what you want. (35:49) When asked what he wishes someone had named for him at our age, Hyatt’s answer was striking: “Give yourself to God and then do what you want. Don’t stress about it.” Once you’ve committed yourself—”Look, God, I am, you know, I’m for you, I’m trusting you, I don’t see the whole picture, probably never will see the whole picture, but I trust you”—then just go do what you want to do. Everything that isn’t sin is of God. The whole world is for us to enjoy and interact with. The surrender comes first, but after that, there’s tremendous freedom.

10. Your gifts are seeds—small at first, but they can grow very big. (37:22) God gives each person different gifts like throwing colored rice—one hits you, another hits the next person, and “the one we got is the one we get and that’s the one we run with.” The gift itself is just a seed. “It’s not full-blown.” Whether it grows depends on whether you water it, sun it, keep the bugs away, nurture it. “Any teeny seed can grow very big. But that’s what we have.” Some people have lots of seeds, some have a couple—either way, it’s still limited. You don’t have all the seeds. You don’t have that other person’s seed. So run with the one you got.

11. The particular mix of talents makes you unique. (38:12) Everyone has multiple talents, and “that’s one of the things that makes us interesting, by the way. The particular mix of talents that we have makes us unique.” You might meet another person who shares one of your talents—both English teachers, for example—”but that person’s very different. It’s just they overlap in this one thing, because we have these other things. That’s how we are.” Don’t reduce yourself to a single skill or identity. It’s the combination that makes you who you are.

12. “It’s only art” / “I thought that was one of the good ones.” (40:04) When Hyatt was becoming a painter after years in missions, he struggled. “Lord, it’s only art, I said. My dad was an engineer. My son’s an engineer. I can’t do that. All the people we worked with were linguists. They were the smart ones... I was just an artist.” God’s response: “I thought that was one of the good ones.” Hyatt heard it in his own voice, the way he talks, the way he thinks. “And I thought, well, I thought so too. I just didn’t know he had such agreement at such high places.” Everything God does is beautiful. He loves beauty. Nothing is superficial to Him. “Every gift he gives you, he gives us, he will say the same thing. I thought that was one of the good ones.”

13. Don’t demean your gift—you’re demeaning what God gave you. (41:17) After God affirmed that art was one of the good ones, the lesson crystallized: “So don’t demean it. Run with it. And who knows what you can do with it.” When asked “how far up can a technical illustrator go?” early in his career, someone told him: “Chairman of the board.” The point isn’t the position—it’s that “a lowly thing or a lowly gift, you keep on going. If you’re faithful to it.” Whether or not you reach the top, “if you’re enjoying it as you go, that’s what life’s about.”

14. Being faithful to your gift is being faithful to God. (42:00) Hyatt uses a phrase he’s never heard anyone else use: “being faithful to a gift.” He explains: “It’s basically being faithful to God who gave the gift. But I think that if you’re not being faithful to your gift, then you’re demeaning something that God has given you, and God is not praised by it, pleased. Because he calls all of them special.” This isn’t about outcomes or worldly success. It’s about stewardship—faithfully cultivating what’s been entrusted to you, not because it will make you famous, but because it came from God’s hand.

15. The older you get, the less time you have to build your mansion. (45:33) Listening to a podcast by a 77-year-old about getting old—losing friends, memory, hearing, health—Hyatt noticed a major miss: the man never talked about what’s next. “You got to be thinking about that. It’s like, okay, this life is our turn. Then our turn’s up, and then we have the next life, which is better.” Scripture says there are degrees in heaven—it’s all by grace, but there are still degrees depending on what we did. “Well, as you get older, there’s less chance to augment that.” Hyatt’s question for us: “How do you build a big mansion?” He doesn’t have the answer—”I just keep on going and expect that the right things are happening as I go”—but the question itself reframes everything about how we spend our time now.

Jon Wells is a writer and filmmaker following Jesus and figuring out the creative pursuit of film. He’s married to Shelby and expecting his first child in August 2026.

We begin with Jon’s origin story—from church tech volunteer to filmmaker, shaped by watching over 100 films with a mentor during COVID. We talk about his decision to become a writer-director rather than just a director, his daily writing practice, and the challenge of showing up even when the work feels mediocre.

Jon shares his philosophy on guardrails and systems—they only matter if they get you to take action and “do the dance.” We discuss his current season of creative pruning, where outcomes feel disappointing but the discipline of showing up brings unexpected peace. He opens up about how God provided unexpectedly before revealing the pregnancy, as preparation for trusting through uncertainty.

We also explore the entrepreneurial tension between ambition and presence, especially as a father trying to be both provider and participant. Jon reframes anxiety about the future—mysteries are fun, and living presently in the unknown is actually the design, not a bug. And we discuss his powerful insight about letting dreams die so they can be resurrected into something bigger.

I hope this conversation challenges you to show up for your work even when outcomes disappoint, to embrace mystery as invitation rather than threat, and to trust that full surrender clarifies rather than obscures your calling.

Lessons from Jon Wells

1. Guardrails only work if they get you to do the ‘dance’. (26:32) Jon shares his philosophy on systems and processes: “Whatever your black and white parameters are, your guard rails, those are there—they’re only helpful if they get you to do the dance. If they’re not getting you to do the dance, they’re not helpful anymore.” He emphasizes that life is a dance, not an on-switch. You can’t guarantee outcomes, but you can create whatever structure gets you into the room to take action. If a system doesn’t lead to action, move on to the next thing.

2. Being a writer means writing, even when it sucks. (22:36) When asked about his writing process, Jon explains his practical approach: “I write six days a week. Most of the time I’ll wake up in the morning, do my Bible and then I’ll write for a little bit. It’s not a lot of writing because I have work to get done and stuff like that, but it’s enough to stay in it every day.” The most important thing for him right now isn’t producing publishable work—it’s being “the guy who’s in the gym lifting the weight.” He’s learning that showing up consistently matters more than waiting for perfect conditions or guaranteed outcomes.

3. Creative pruning reveals what you’re really made of. (29:11) Jon candidly shares about his current season: “I feel like I’m in what feels like a creative rut. I’m not producing what I thought I would be producing in this last two months.” But rather than spiraling, he’s discovering something unexpected: “I am not enough alone, whether that’s just in feeling like good enough as a man or whether that’s even as a creator... I need other voices from friends and family and inner circle and teams, but I also need outer voices that are like God’s voice.” The season of producing subpar work while feeling exhausted has forced him into open-handed surrender—and he’s finding peace in it. “I just have been pruned because all my fruit is dying. But I, the plant, am not dead. And I feel very alive, but my fruit feels very dead.”

4. God’s provision often comes before the storm. (39:01) Jon tells the story of how he and Shelby got unexpected work in December, right before their roommate moved out and their rent situation changed. Then they discovered they were pregnant. Looking back, Jon reflects: “I feel like God was like, hey, I’m going to show you my goodness because something big is about to happen that might scare you if you didn’t know how good I was already... And then I feel like we’ve been in a cycle of like here’s the scary thing and then God’s like but look how big I am, remember how big I am.” These tangible moments of provision have given him “hard fact evidence” to remind his brain that whatever’s on the other side of pruning “is going to be way, way, way better.”

5. Surrender doesn’t mean giving up your calling—it means seeing it more clearly. (41:59) Jon shares his biggest fear about surrender: “If I surrender everything to God, he’s going to move me to Zimbabwe. He’s like, oh, I don’t care about any of the things you’re interested in, John. You’re going to do this now. And that has always sounded really crappy to me.” But as he’s actually practiced surrender, he’s discovered the opposite: “You’ve pointed me in this direction already. I’m on the right track, but it’s like I’m looking through a hazy window where I can kind of make up the shapes. He’s like, exactly, you can kind of make up the shapes, but if you let me take you to the other side, I’ll show you that the shapes are bigger, better, greater, more colorful than you could ever imagine.” The more he surrenders, the less hazy the window becomes—and the vision gets bigger, not smaller.

6. Mysteries are fun—and that’s the design. (48:34) When discussing anxiety about the future, Jon offers a powerful reframe: “What better way to design humanity to work than to say I’m gonna give you a big fat mystery that you’re gonna be so interested in solving, but I’m going to make it just blurry enough that you’re almost forced to live present.” For those caught in anxiety spirals, he suggests they’re “living misaligned” by missing the point. “If you can untwist yourself a little bit and learn how to be enamored by the mystery and excited about it, but also live presently, that is how you live through season. ‘Cause it’s like, I don’t know what the next thing is, but I have an idea. And I wonder if I’m right. Oh, I’m so excited.”

7. Letting dreams die makes space for resurrection. (1:06:01) In his question for the next guest, Jon asks: “What do you think would come from letting your dream completely die?” He clarifies what he means: not resuscitation—which just brings something back to life as it was—but resurrection, which “brings it back to life and then some.” His question probes deeper: “What needs to die, what dream needs to die in order for it to be resurrected with new extra expounding life that you had no idea existed?”

8. Movies make the intangible tangible. (16:48) Jon discovered film’s power during COVID when watching movies with a mentor who would lead deep discussions afterward. He explains: “Movies in a lot of ways are able to put tangible things onto untangible things. You can understand fragments of God or fragments of emotion or fragments of all of our whole soul and being, but you can never fully see it all at once with your own eyes.” Storytelling breaks down the overwhelming complexity of human experience into fragments we can actually grasp. “It’s weird that a pirate movie or a sci-fi film or a movie about a guy who lost his job and goes on an adventure does it for us but it does.”

9. Writing gives you creative control—and accountability to the whole story. (19:42) Jon chose to become a writer-director rather than just directing others’ scripts. “There was something about the creative control that I was like, if I write, I have naturally a lot more creative control... there will be this—it doesn’t feel like a ripoff. There’s something that feels like oh man I was here for the whole thing.” Beyond ego, learning to write trains him in “the whole storytelling mechanics.” The story is what matters most—the format is just how you deliver it. “If you can figure out a story, you can get it out in all these different mediums.”

10. The people who produce consistently have figured out how to get themselves into the room. (23:44) Jon reflects on his research into writing: “The more and more I’m in and I’m just like nobody really gets how to do this. They just figure out how do they get into the room, how it works for them.” The differentiator between dreamers and makers isn’t talent or process—it’s action. “The differentiator between me and someone that gets stuff done is they don’t get caught in the process... they figure out what works for me and then they go and do that thing. There’s action that’s within that.”

11. Being needed feeds something essential, but the season itself is the blessing. (52:05) When discussing the tension between providing and being present, Jon references The Iron Claw—a film about a father wrestling with loss while trying to be present with his two boys. The core tension resonates deeply: “The story of a dad in a lot of ways is like how do you provide for your family and also be present with them, especially in American culture.” But beyond the tension, there’s recognition that this demanding season—young kids, creative work, being pulled in many directions—is actually the one you’d want to return to.

12. Generosity requires letting go of control, not just giving from surplus. (43:19) When Matt shares his own struggle after losing a job—wondering if he should cut charitable giving—Jon’s response clarifies what surrender actually means. It’s not just tithing when comfortable. It’s “how you give changes depending on what you have available.” But the practice of generosity itself, even in scarcity, is the foundation of open-handed living. Budgeting isn’t about control—it’s about creating margin to give abundantly “in a way that just doesn’t make sense.”

13. Most rumination about the future isn’t productive—it’s just anxiety wearing work clothes. (53:29) Jon admits his entrepreneurial bent keeps him “living in my head a lot” even during precious moments with family. “I’m like constantly fantasizing about like oh man if I did this thing and it worked out then I would do this thing and it would be really cool and successful or whatever.” He recognizes these aren’t productive thoughts that would solve actual problems. They’re fantasies that steal presence. The work is learning to switch off the future and actually be in the moment, even when the moment feels boring compared to the fantasy.

14. Ambition and contentment aren’t opposites—they’re a tension to steward. (54:53) Jon names one of his core life questions: “How do you have the right juxtaposition of ambition, but then also being content and like enough is enough.” He combats unhealthy ambition through generosity, surrendering control, and rooting identity in being a child of God rather than a successful entrepreneur. But he doesn’t resolve the tension—he’s learning to live in it. “I think he’s created me with those unique abilities and talents that give me that mindset and that framework and then what is twisting of that tool... so that I’m caught in my own selfishness and brokenness rather than giving those talents and gifts to him fully.”

15. Structured religion can obscure the radical simplicity of God’s interest in you. (1:02:37) When asked what belief he held confidently but now thinks is wrong, Jon reflects on his reconstruction phase: “I used to think that religion and Christ and living aligned with God really meant super structured in a certain way.” He followed religious rules and guidelines thinking they would get him closer to God. But this last year, he realized: “I actually think so many people who don’t even realize the way they’re living live closer to God than a lot of people who think they are. It’s simpler than people over complicate it.” The structures are helpful when they point you toward God—but they can also become the thing that separates you from Him.

Jordan Avne is a product leader, husband, and father of three, navigating the tension between ambition and presence. He’s built his career on analytical clarity, thoughtful decision-making, and a relentless focus on fundamentals.

We begin with Jordan describing this season of life—busy, demanding, but deeply meaningful. The kind of season men near the end of their lives wish they could return to. We talk about the shift from goal-driven to identity-driven living, and why that shift is both essential and uncomfortable.

Jordan shares his analytical framework for evaluating ideas, the bad ideas he talked himself into (including spending hours perfecting a consultancy website nobody would ever find), and how he’s learning to differentiate signal from noise in complex situations. We discuss the fight to be present when you’re working from home, the practice of building mental boundaries, and the difference between productive and unproductive rumination.

We also explore the surprising connection between childhood creativity and career trajectory—for Jordan, it was business simulation games like Rollercoaster Tycoon and Zoo Tycoon, where he learned to think in systems, levers, and experiences.

I hope this conversation challenges you to examine whether you’re building an identity or chasing a goal, to be ruthlessly honest about what’s signal and what’s noise, and to practice the discipline of being where you are.

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Lessons from Jordan

1. This busy season is the one you’ll want to return to. (3:46) Jordan heard research about men near the end of their lives—if they could go back to any time, many choose this exact season: young kids, demanding career, being needed in a lot of ways. There’s blessing in being in a stage where what you’re working on has deep meaning.

2. Being needed feeds something essential in men. (4:22) “Maybe it’s feeding some unhealthy part of my identity,” Jordan admits. But there’s also the biblical design of it—the way men are wired to work through challenges, to provide, to build. Most growth happens in seasons of challenge and discomfort.

3. Choose identity over goals. (5:19) Jordan shifted from being goal-driven to identity-driven. It’s not about finishing a project and putting a bow on it. It’s living into the type of person you want to become—a lifelong process, not a checklist.

4. Analytical thinking is both your strength and your cage. (13:15) Jordan’s analytical mind finds problems in every idea. That’s valuable for de-risking ventures, but it also means he’s talked himself out of a lot of opportunities. “Sometimes you have to give an idea a little bit of life to see where it goes before you’re too critical.”

5. De-risk by identifying what must be true. (13:33) Jordan’s framework: What fundamentally needs to be true for this to work? Then ask—what can’t go wrong? How do I de-risk that? What has to be true? How do I bolster that advantage?

6. Risk tolerance shapes your path. (15:00) Some people dream big and live and die by it. We need those innovators. But Jordan values stability, especially in this season with three young kids. The question isn’t “Should I be an entrepreneur?” but “How do I use entrepreneurial thinking within the framework that fits my life stage?”

7. Bad ideas teach you what not to optimize. (17:55) Jordan spent hours building the perfect consultancy website—getting the copy just right, the services perfectly positioned. Then he realized: nobody finds you through your website. They find you through relationships. He was optimizing the wrong lever.

8. Build in public, not in private perfection. (19:15) The website sat dormant while Jordan tried to perfect it. Meanwhile, the consultancy grew through actual conversations and referrals. Perfection is procrastination dressed up as strategy.

9. Search for the fundamentals in any situation. (22:48) When there’s ambiguity and noise—lots of information, lots of data flying around—Jordan asks: What are the most essential pieces of information I need to root myself and figure out where to go from here?

10. The times you’re most off track? You mistook noise for signal. (23:15) Jordan’s biggest mistakes came from overvaluing something that wasn’t critical to the underlying fundamental situation. How do you differentiate between noise and a fundamental element? Lived experience, trial and error, and wisdom from people outside the situation.

11. Boundaries are a practice, not a policy. (25:35) Jordan sets agreed-upon work hours with his family. But the real discipline is mental: it’s 5:30, a work thought pops up—do you chase it or tell yourself no? And then it pops up again. Tell yourself no again. And again. That’s the practice.

12. Productive rumination vs. unproductive rumination. (28:02) Most of the time when you’re with family, ruminating on work problems isn’t productive—even if you fed the rumination, it wouldn’t solve anything. The way you solve the problem is setting aside time to actually do the thing.

13. Taking time away from rumination makes you sharper when you return. (28:51) Jordan found that stepping away from work thoughts—truly stepping away—made him more effective when he came back to them. The boundary isn’t just for family. It’s also for clarity.

14. The journey into identity is harder as goals become easier. (33:18) Jordan used to be purely goal-driven and productivity-driven. The more capable he’s become at achieving goals, the harder it’s been to find satisfaction in them. The shift to identity-driven living is the answer—but it’s also more uncomfortable.

15. Don’t let a goal become a God. (37:15) There’s freedom in not letting a goal become something you serve. You can still have goals. But when your entire identity is built around achieving one thing, and you either hit it or miss it, you’ve set yourself up for crisis either way.

Seth Kaser is a music educator, entrepreneur, husband, and father who runs Kaser Arts and Global Creation Foundation, bringing music education to underserved communities globally. He’s a present friend, a prolific creator, and someone who embodies deep capacity without losing his humanity.

We begin with Seth’s unique relationship to juggling—not as chaos, but as the constant art of keeping multiple meaningful things in motion. We talk about procrastination as an entrepreneurial skill, the tension between availability and productivity, and the reality of being married to another entrepreneur while raising two kids.

Seth shares his creative wrestlings—the book he wants to write someday, the music living on his voice memos, and the lesson from a class that asked him to return to what he freely created as a child. We discuss his EP Chapters, released two days after his son was born, and the decisions he made about censorship, audience, and authenticity.

I hope this conversation inspires you to take the creative stirrings seriously, to see juggling as a skill rather than a crisis, and to remember that consistency over time gets big, big growth.

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Lessons from Seth

1. Juggling is a form of entertainment. (5:22) When you think about somebody juggling, you don’t automatically picture someone dropping all the balls. You picture skill, presence, multiple things in motion. That’s the life—not chaos, but constant attention to keeping things up in the air.

2. “Entrepreneurship, two kids, marriage—think I’m addicted to the tension.” (4:15) Seth literally wrote a song about it. The tension isn’t a bug; it’s a feature. Weekends don’t really exist anymore. Answering emails 10 p.m. on a Saturday night. “Think I said yes too many times. But I’m so grateful.”

3. Procrastination and productivity are two sides of the same coin. (6:34) Seth is “very good at procrastinating and very good at getting stuff done when it needs to get done and not prior.” The entrepreneurial skill isn’t avoiding pressure—it’s performing under it.

4. The most important things are not the most urgent. (7:25) We all know the quadrant. But living it is different. The margin, the relationships, the creative projects—they’re always being pushed off because they don’t scream at you.

5. Being available is a decision, not a default. (1:46) Despite running multiple businesses, a nonprofit, and raising two kids, Seth still shows up for five-hour conversations. Availability isn’t about having time—it’s about choosing presence.

6. Marriage to another entrepreneur requires protecting each other’s dreams. (30:07) When both spouses are builders, the default is collision. Seth and Lauren have learned to hold space for each other’s ventures, even when capacity is maxed out.

7. Emails at 10 p.m. is how you stay in the game. (4:28) It’s not aspirational advice. It’s the honest answer. The work gets done in the margins—late nights, early mornings, the in-between moments.

8. “Consistency over time gets big, big growth.” (1:20:18) Whether it’s building a nonprofit, recording music, or writing a book someday—the answer is always small, well-placed chops over a long period of time.

9. The voice memos on your phone are your creative backlog. (1:20:22) Seth has songs that live only on his phone. We all have projects trapped in drafts, notes apps, and “someday” folders. The gap between creation and release is where most art dies.

10. Writing a manual can feel like writing a book. (10:21) Sometimes the creative wrestling you’re avoiding is already happening in a different form. The discipline manual, the student curriculum, the framework you built for work—it’s all training for the thing you really want to make.

11. Go back to what you freely created as a child. (1:22:40) Seth’s teacher at Calvary Costa Mesa opened a creativity class with this question: “What was a form of creativity you used to freely create in when you were 10 and younger?” Then the assignment: go back to that this week.

12. For Seth, it was words. (1:23:00) Talking, storytelling, spoken word over music. The thing you did before you learned to overthink it—that’s the thing you should return to.

13 The creative stirrings don’t go away—they keep coming up. (1:19:48) Haley Pham just released a video documenting her book-writing process. Seth watched it and felt the pull again. “It just feels like it keeps coming up.” That’s the signal. The thing that keeps resurfacing is the thing asking to be taken seriously.

14 When will you have time? You won’t. Do it anyway. (1:20:09) “When am I going to have time to do that? I don’t know.” But the only way it happens is by small, well-placed chops over a long period of time. Consistency over time gets big, big growth.

We discuss:

• Why journaling for hundreds of hours reveals patterns you can’t see otherwise

• The difference between creating for an audience and creating because you can’t help it

• Navigating the dip: why most creative endeavors fail before the breakthrough

• Being faithful with small things when no one is watching

• Wrestling with the timeline of success while raising kids

• Why the people who make it are the ones who’d do it anyway

• How to hold your creative work lightly while taking it seriously

• The graveyard of people who tried to do it fast versus those who outlasted them

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Timestamps:

(0:00) - Opening: Journaling, Time Capsules, and Reflection

(8:00) - Creative Cohorts, Parenting, and Finding Your People

(19:00) - The Dip and Creative Persistence

(32:00) - Being Faithful with Small Things

(45:00) - Wrestling with Timelines and Success

(58:00) - The Long Game: Outlasting the Quitters

(1:03:00) - The CEO Who’d Do It All Again Tomorrow

(1:05:00) - Doing the Work When No One’s Watching

(1:06:00) - Closing Question: Creative Wrestling You Haven’t Answered

Key Moments:

On the patience game: “The people that are really in it for the right reasons outlast all the people that are in it for the ‘I thought if I did this consistently, I’d get a million followers.’ No, the people doing it consistently have been doing it for 10+ years and they’re just starting to get some success.”

On creative persistence: “I would be doing this anyway. If you find it painful and most people find it painful, but you’re like ‘I would do this anyway even though it’s painful’—you have something.”

On the long game: “It’s a very frustrating thing for me to hear all the time that you have to be faithful with the small things. But that’s exactly what my dad is saying. That’s not the answer I want, but that’s the answer.”

On doing the work: “Would you still be doing all the same things you’re doing creatively even if no one was watching? The answer is yes. That’s the thing about writing—for a year I’m doing it when zero people are reading.”

Detailed Description

Kyle Rutkin (Substack, Website) is a writer and marketer navigating the intersection of creative ambition and fatherhood. He’s part of a creative cohort where people wrestle with the questions that matter: How do you build something meaningful while raising kids? How do you stay faithful to the work when the timeline is unclear? How do you resist the quick-fix promises of the internet and commit to the long game?

We begin with Kyle’s journaling practice—hundreds of hours captured in time capsules that reveal patterns and growth he couldn’t see in the moment. We talk about the difference between documenting life and living it, and why reflection has become his unlock for staying grounded while pursuing creative work.

The conversation turns to the dip—that valley every creative person enters where doubt creeps in and most people quit. Kyle shares his wrestling with the timeline of success, the frustration of being told to “be faithful with small things,” and why the CEO who sold 20% of his company for $250 million said he’d do it all again the next day anyway. We explore why the reward comes to those with the patience and persistence to outlast the quitters.

We also discuss the tension of being a Christian creative in the 21st century—how to pursue excellence and ambition without losing sight of what matters most. Kyle reflects on learning from his dad’s wisdom (even when it’s not the answer he wants), holding his work lightly while taking it seriously, and the freedom that comes from doing it whether anyone’s watching or not.

I hope this conversation reminds you that the work is worth doing for its own sake, that the dip is where most people quit but where the real work begins, and that showing up faithfully—even when no one’s watching—is how you build something that lasts.

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Description

In this episode, Brenden and Matt delve into the importance of starting despite imperfection, cultivating curiosity, balancing work and family, and leveraging tools like AI to enhance creativity and productivity. They explore how consistent effort, intentional planning, showing your work, and asking the right questions can lead to meaningful progress and personal fulfillment.

Segments

00:00 - The challenge of starting and embracing imperfection in content creation
02:23 - The mindset of “start terrible, improve daily” for growth
04:12 - Prioritizing family, faith, and life adjustments over time
05:27 - Balancing content goals: follower growth, relatable content, and personal happiness
06:17 - Analyzing the virality of videos and the importance of shareability
08:51 - How platforms optimize for time spent and their implications for creators
09:57 - The significance of watch time and engagement metrics in content success
10:30 - Friendship and respect rooted in entrepreneurship and discipline
11:22 - Managing work, curiosity, and building legacy as a full-stack developer and content creator
12:05 - Cultivating curiosity through childhood influences and deliberate skill-building
13:35 - The importance of humility, conversations with kids, and modeling behaviors
16:22 - Teaching and simplifying complex ideas through engagement with children
16:49 - Reflecting on legacy, purpose, and leaving an investment in your family
17:14 - The value of embracing failure and learning in electronics projects and content creation
18:34 - The relationship between teaching and mastery, and the meta level of teaching others to teach
19:13 - The inspiration behind the “I don’t know you” podcast concept and self-discovery
20:19 - Overcoming perfectionism: starting with basic setup, tinkering, and iteration
22:31 - Creating ambiance with DIY lighting and tech hacks for better content
25:01 - The current season of life’s uphill climb and the importance of perseverance
26:45 - Investment in family and discipline as a long-term orchestration
27:53 - Managing responsibilities and optimizing life with dependency mapping and planning
30:28 - The paradox of responsibility versus freedom in life choices
33:39 - The long race: pacing, endurance, and the importance of pushing through discomfort
37:23 - The role of AI in brainstorming, note-taking, and expanding creative capacity
40:50 - The leverage and risks of powerful tools like AI and power tools
42:31 - The urgency of understanding and testing AI responsibly amid societal pressures
44:52 - Practical systems for balancing marriage, family, and entrepreneurial pursuits
45:13 - The power of dependency mapping and disciplined planning
47:21 - Setting input and output goals to measure progress effectively
48:09 - Anticipating the arrival of new family members and managing the ebbs and flows of family life
49:45 - The long-term perspective on providing, sacrifice, and legacy building
51:33 - The impact of AI-driven economic shifts and the importance of responsible development
54:11 - The motivation for content creation: trust, transparency, and future-proofing skills
56:07 - Increasing creative “temperature” to unlock new opportunities and networks
58:17 - Reflecting on continual growth, curiosity, and evolving priorities in life and work
59:36 - The likelihood of future collaborations driven by shared values and ambitions
64:19 - The challenge of aligning actions with core values and doing what feels meaningful
66:47 - The power of discipline: doing what you dread and managing sacrifice for long-term goals
67:47 - Final thoughts: gratitude, friendship, and the lifelong journey of growth

In this episode of I Don’t Know You, Matt sits down with filmmaker, father, and longtime friend David Orgill in Dana Point, California.

Together, they explore what it means to wrestle with identity, faith, and vocation in a world full of distraction. David reflects on fatherhood, creativity, and how his understanding of God’s will has shifted—from looking for a single “correct” path to embracing freedom, responsibility, and presence.

They also unpack the difference between consuming “candy” content versus sitting down for a slow, nourishing, home-cooked meal—and what that metaphor reveals about art, media, and the lives we’re shaping.

This conversation isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about learning how to live well while still asking the questions.

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Segments

00:00 – Introduction
What this podcast is about and why these conversations matter

01:06 – Who Is David Orgill?
Opening question: “When someone asks who you are, what do you lead with?”

02:56 – Identity Beyond Work
Why job titles feel incomplete

05:01 – Disrupting Small Talk
Moving past “good, busy, tired”

06:41 – Cultural Honesty & Travel
Why some cultures go deeper faster

08:41 – What Does Home Mean?
Finding home through distance

11:01 – Roots, Stability, and Seasons
Personal and professional grounding

12:46 – Calling, Career, and God’s Will
Freedom vs. a fixed plan

15:41 – Wisdom, Age, and Still Wandering
Why clarity doesn’t arrive with time

17:21 – Self-Generated Purpose
Taking initiative in faith and creativity

19:31 – Personality and Faith
How God meets us differently

21:51 – Making Friends With the Questions
Living without closure—and why that’s okay

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Alvin and I explore the intricacies of parenting, cultural influences, and personal growth. We discuss his upbringing in Rwanda and how that’s shaped his family values. We also chat about the balance between ambition and a quiet life significance of gratitude, and the desire to create meaningful connections.

00:00 The Origins of DJI and Drone Technology

02:58 Connections Through Shared Experiences

06:01 Cultural Influences and Family Values

08:51 The Importance of Intentional Parenting

12:02 Navigating Cultural Differences in Parenting

14:55 The Role of Gratitude in Family Life

17:58 Exploring Faith and Values in Parenting

21:07 Balancing Ambition and Family Life

23:54 The Impact of History on National Identity

26:59 Creating a Framework for Curiosity

29:57 The Challenge of Having It All

40:14 The Journey of Parenthood

43:01 Family Dynamics and Aspirations

46:01 Cultural Reflections and Personal Growth

49:00 Ambition vs. Quiet Living

55:10 The Importance of Names and Legacy

59:59 Navigating Parenthood and Life’s Challenges

01:04:59 The Quest for Balance in Life

01:09:06 The Future of Podcasting and Self-Discovery