Category: Blog

When Plans Unravel: Showing Up Anyway

~ David Willis ~ Leave a comment

You know how it goes. You wake up on a Saturday with a clear picture in your head—everything you want to tackle before the day slips away. For me, it was straightforward: Work on a woodworking project I’ve been meaning to build, shelves for my son’s room. Put together the workout equipment that’s been laying in my garage floor. And yeah, carve out time for a solid nap, the kind that resets everything.

Would I actually get to it all? Who knows. There was also the chance to help a friend pack for their upcoming move, which was a good way to fill the day helping. Solid enough outline.

Then the phone rang.

It was the kind of call that changes everything in an instant. A family member had fallen and was in the hospital. My list? It didn’t matter anymore. I set it aside and headed over. (Keeping things vague here to respect their privacy—praying for a smooth recovery from the bumps and bruises, and a return to routine soon.)

Just being there. That’s what it came down to. Sitting by their side, listening more than talking, handling a few small things that needed doing in the moment. No big speeches, just presence.

If you’ve been following along, I’m in the thick of another 7-40 Challenge round. It’s about weaving seven daily habits into 40 days—building momentum, inching toward the person I’m meant to be. But why push for that growth? So that in the real tests—the ones you can’t plan for—you make the right call. You show up for what matters most.

It echoes what Marcus Aurelius wrote in his Meditations: “You have power over your mind—not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.” Simple, enduring truth.

Or consider Eleanor Roosevelt’s words: “You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face… You must do the thing you think you cannot do.” It’s in those unscripted moments that the habits we’ve built prove their worth.

So, when your day veers off course—when the unexpected pulls you in a new direction—what pulls you through? For me, it’s the character shaped over time, the faith that’s become a steady undercurrent, and the ties to the people who ground me.

I’m thankful for it all. Thankful for the ongoing chance to grow, to be there for those I love. Thankful, really.

Life rarely follows the outline. Here’s to leaning into the detours.

See you tomorrow for day 14. 

What Do You Want to Be When You Grow Up? (Spoiler: It’s Not What You Think)

~ David Willis ~ Leave a comment

Hey there, friends. How many times have you heard that classic line? What do you want to be when you grow up? Or its close cousins: What do you want to do with your life? Who do you choose to be? If you’re anything like me, you’ve been hit with these questions since you could barely tie your shoes. And if you’re honest, they’ve probably kept you up at night, staring at the ceiling, wrestling with answers that never quite feel solid enough.

I know I have. For years, I’d mull it over, chasing some perfect response that would make everything click. But every time, I’d come up short—defeated, like I’d failed some invisible test. The one thing that kept bubbling up, though, the one concrete thread through all the uncertainty? I want to help people. It’s that simple, and that stubborn. And here’s why: I’ve felt the weight of love poured into my own life—unearned, overflowing, straight from God—and it lit a fire in me to pass it on. To show up for others when they need it most, to be the kind of help that says, “You’re not alone in this.”

Back when I was younger and a whole lot more idealistic, I thought I had it figured out. I spent four years as a music/youth pastor, waving my arms like a mad conductor during worship services and hanging out with teenagers who were navigating the chaos of growing up. I figured that was my lane for helping—guiding folks in the church, pointing them toward something bigger. And don’t get me wrong, that’s noble work. There are people wired for it, called to mentor kids or lead choirs with a passion that lights up rooms. But for me? It started to fray at the edges.

I found myself frustrated, grinding through the routines without the joy that should come with it. The final straw hit when the pastor pulled me aside and said I’d lost the confidence of the deacons. I could quit or be fired. Ouch. That stung deep, and for years, shame wrapped around it like a vine. I beat myself up, wondering if I’d blown my one shot at making a difference. Admitting it wasn’t for me felt like defeat all over again. But looking back? That was the pivot point. It forced me to dig deeper: What does “helping people” really mean? What does caring for them look like when the spotlight’s off?

Here’s a truth that’s reshaped everything for me: Every job—heck, every moment—holds a chance to serve. I love the story comedian Michael Jr. shares about chatting with an auto mechanic during a show. Michael ribs the guy a bit, saying, “Man, fixing cars all day? That must make you leap out of bed every morning.” But the mechanic? He lights up and fires back: “Every single day, I wake up knowing I get to help people reach their destinations—making sure their rides don’t leave them stranded.” Boom. That’s service in grease-stained glory. Tangible, real-world care that keeps lives moving.

And that? That’s the pivot we all need. It flips the script on our everyday grind. In my day job now, “helping” isn’t some grand gesture—it’s picking up the slack so a teammate can breathe easier. It’s stepping up to lead when positive change is needed, sharing the know-how to make things smoother. Or just listening, helping someone see their own blind spots or find words for what they’ve been holding back. It’s not tied to a title or a paycheck; it’s woven into how we show up.

Mother Teresa once said it perfectly: “If you can’t feed a hundred people, then feed just one.” And let’s not forget what Frederick Buechner wrote: “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” Spot on, right? Helping isn’t a job—it’s a way of life. A daily choice to love people right where they are, mess and all.

So, circling back to that nagging question: What do I want to be when I grow up? Here’s my answer now, clearer than ever—I want to be a follower of Christ. Someone who loves fiercely, who serves without a scorecard. The vocation? That’s just the vehicle. Sure, I chase work that plays to my strengths, stuff that sparks my curiosity and pays the bills. But there’s a world of difference between what you do and how you do it. Nail the “how”—root it in love and service—and suddenly, the “what” stops feeling like a cage.

If we could bottle that and pass it around, imagine the freedom. You could tinker with careers, pivot without panic, make a living in a dozen ways. But without that foundation? Even the dream gig turns hollow. True happiness? It blooms when who you are lines up with what you give.

Just some late-night musings from me to you. What’s stirring in your world? What did you dream of being as a kid? Where’s your journey taken you so far, and what golden lessons have you picked up along the way? I’d love to hear your story—drop it in the comments, shoot me a note. Let’s swap tales and keep the conversation going. Catch you tomorrow.

Day 10 of the 7-40 Challenge: Rediscovering Tribes and Rallying for Real Change

~ David Willis ~ Leave a comment

Hello, friends! Welcome to Day 10 of my 7-40 Challenge. If you’re just tuning in, quick recap: I’m deep into my second round, committing to seven daily habits for 40 straight days. It’s all about staying on track, building momentum, and chasing that full-on transformation I’ve been after. No fluff—just steady progress toward becoming the person I know I can be.

Today was one of those classic weekdays: packed to the brim with hustle, deadlines, and that satisfying grind of checking off goals. I knocked out tasks that pushed me closer to the life I’m building, but amid the chaos, I carved out time for one of my non-negotiable habits—reading for at least 30 minutes. And let me tell you, it felt like reuniting with an old friend who drops wisdom bombs you didn’t even know you needed.

I dusted off (well, actually, hit play on the audiobook) Tribes: We Need You to Lead Us by Seth Godin. This one’s been on my shelf since my first read years ago, back when I was wide-eyed and soaking up every page. Truth be told, I didn’t fully get it then—some of his ideas flew right over my head. But picking it up now? It’s like the book’s evolved with me. Those references to the wild world of the late 2000s and early 2010s—think the rise of social media tribes and the early influencer era—still hit fresh and real, even in 2025. Godin’s dissecting how we’re wired to connect in groups that matter.

If you’re new to Tribes, here’s the gist: Godin argues that in a world drowning in noise and options, true leadership isn’t about bossing people around or climbing corporate ladders. It’s about scarcity—leadership is rare because it requires vulnerability, a clear vision, and the guts to stand for something. He flips the script on traditional power structures, saying that the real magic happens when you rally a “tribe”—a passionate group of like-minded folks—around a worthy mission. Tribes aren’t built on mass marketing or forced loyalty; they’re organic, fueled by shared stories, rituals, and that electric sense of belonging.

Godin says early on: “A tribe is a group of people connected to one another, a leader, and an idea.” It’s not about size; it’s about movement. He challenges us to stop waiting for permission and start leading, because when a leader shows up with a compelling “why,” followers aren’t just attracted—they’re transformed. Think of it like this: In the faceless scroll of social feeds, what pulls you in isn’t another ad—it’s a voice that echoes your unspoken frustrations and dreams, turning “me too” into “us together.” Godin weaves in riffs on everything from micro-revolutions in niche communities to the power of heretics (his word for the disruptors who shake things up). It’s a quick read, but it lingers, poking at your excuses for not stepping up.

One line that stopped me cold this time around? “People don’t believe what you tell them. They seldom trust what you show them. But they almost always believe what their friends tell them.” Boom— that’s the tribe currency. Another gem: “Leaders make change. Leaders don’t wait for someone else to do it.” It’s Godin’s signature style: punchy, provocative, and laced with that quiet urgency that makes you nod and think, “Wow, he’s right.”

This revisit sparked a ton for me, especially around my business goals (more on those here soon). But the big takeaway tonight? My core mission hasn’t budged: I want to leave this world better than I found it, day by day. That means showing up with intention, loving people fiercely, and treating them the way Jesus modeled— with grace, truth, and real love. Tribes lights a fire under that, showing me it’s not enough to just live it quietly. It’s about defining my “worthy mission” so clearly that it draws others in, inspiring them to chase their own passions alongside mine. No more solo treks; let’s build something communal, something that ripples.

All these years later, yeah, I get it now—deeper than before. I’m itching to put these principles into play: spotting my tribe, amplifying the stories that unite us, and leading without apology. We’ll see where it takes us, and I’ll report back as I experiment. Accountability is key in this challenge, after all.

So, spill it—what book are you diving into right now? What’s one lesson that’s sticking with you? Or hey, if Tribes has crossed your path, what’s your favorite Godin zinger? Drop a comment; I genuinely love hearing from you and swapping ideas. I look forward to the conversation.

Until tomorrow—keep moving forward, finding your why, and chasing true purpose. You’ve got this.

The 7-40 Challenge: Finding Gratitude in the Grind of Yard Work

~ David Willis ~ Leave a comment

Hey there, folks! Welcome back to another installment of the 7-40 Challenge, where I’m pushing through the second round, now deep into week two. I’m making solid progress, and for that, I’m stoked! Today’s post is a little different, though—less about a normal exercise session and more about the unexpected workout that real life throws at you. Spoiler alert: it involves a lawnmower, a jungle of a yard, and a whole lot of gratitude.

Today’s exercise wasn’t planned. It wasn’t a neatly programmed set of reps or a long walk. Nope, it was just me, out in the yard, wrestling with the wild overgrowth that’s been neglected for far too long. I spent hours taming the beast—mowing, trimming, and sweating my head off. Let me be real with you: I’m tired this evening. But you know what? There’s a deep, satisfying ache in my bones that comes from knowing I accomplished something worthwhile.

As the Roman philosopher Seneca once said, “Difficulties strengthen the mind, as labor does the body.” Ain’t that the truth? Today’s yard work was a reminder that sometimes the best workouts happen outside the gym, in the messy, sweaty reality of taking care of the place we call home.

I’ve got a bit of a love-hate thing going with yard work. I love when the yard looks crisp, clean, and inviting—like something out of a magazine (or at least, close enough). But mowing? Ugh. I used to dread it. Back when I was younger, I’d grumble my way through it, annoyed that I had to do it. Fast-forward to now, and something’s shifted. Maybe it’s the new place we’ve moved into, or maybe it’s just me getting a little wiser (or at least, less whiny). These days, I’m trying to approach mowing with a new mindset: I don’t have to do it—I get to do it.

That simple flip in perspective changes everything. I get to take care of this home we’re building. I get to make it beautiful, to keep it sharp and well-maintained. It’s not my favorite task in the world—let’s not get carried away—but there’s a quiet pride in looking out over a freshly mowed lawn and knowing I put in the work. Today, I’d even say I did it well.

As I was out there today, sweating under the sun, I couldn’t help but think of another gem from history. The poet Kahlil Gibran wrote in 1923, “Work is love made visible.” That hits me hard as I think about pushing the mower back and forth. Yard work, as mundane as it can feel, is a small act of love—for my home, for my family, for the life we’re creating here. It’s not glamorous, but it’s meaningful.

So here’s my thought for you tonight: gratitude changes the game. I’m learning to face each day with a heart full of thanks, even for the stuff that makes me groan. This life? It’s a gift. Every blade of grass I cut, every weed I pull—it’s a chance to steward what I’ve been given. It is a gift from God and I’m grateful for it, even the sweaty, tiring parts.

Wherever you’re reading this, know that I’m thankful for you. I hope you’re having an awesome day, surrounded by people you love, maybe even tackling your own version of “yard work”—whatever that looks like for you. Keep showing up, keep finding the good in the grind, and I’ll catch you tomorrow for Day 10 of the 7-40 Challenge. Stay grateful, friends!

Day 8 of the 7-40 Challenge: The Power of Practice and Passion

~ David Willis ~ Leave a comment

Hey there, friends! Welcome to Day 8, Round 2 of the 7-40 Challenge. Let me tell you, I’m feeling challenged—but in the best way possible. There’s something about pushing yourself that sparks inspiration, and I’m thrilled to share some thoughts with you tonight about talent, practice, and what makes us truly shine.

Looking back on my life, I can pinpoint a few areas where I’ve been lucky enough to have a natural knack. I’m not claiming to be a prodigy, but I’ve had moments where a bit of talent went a long way with minimal effort, earning me praise or a touch of recognition. One of those moments started in high school with music.

I’ve loved music for as long as I can remember, belting out tunes at the top of my lungs. This might date me, but I vividly recall singing along to Shenandoah’s Next to You, Next to Me when it first hit the radio. Picture a 10-year-old me in the backseat of the car, giving it my all while my mom winced at my off-key enthusiasm. Thankfully, I got better—turns out, I had a bit of a gift for singing. By my sophomore year of high school, with just a touch of practice, I discovered I could hold my own. By junior year, I’d made the All-State choir, and I repeated that feat as a senior. That led to a full music scholarship in college. I thought I was hot stuff—naturally talented, no need to practice too hard. Spoiler alert: I was so wrong.

As Ralph Waldo Emerson wisely said in 1841, “The only person you are destined to become is the person you decide to be.” Talent might open the door, but it’s practice that builds the house.

Fast forward to today—nearly 35 years (or more, if I’m being honest) since those backseat serenades. Another area where I’ve stumbled into a bit of talent is my voice. Not for singing this time, but for its deep, resonant tone. Over the years, people have asked if I’m an audiobook narrator, a DJ, or a radio host. I’ve dabbled in a few radio commercials (all for free, mind you), and I’d love to read audiobooks someday. But here’s the kicker: I haven’t put in the work to make it happen. Talent alone doesn’t cut it.

This brings me to a book I just finished—Chase Jarvis’s Never Play It Safe. The final chapter dives deep into the magic of practice. Jarvis points out that what separates the world-class from the rest isn’t just raw talent—it’s the relentless dedication to honing their craft. He uses Stephen Curry, the future Hall of Famer and one of the greatest basketball players ever, as a prime example. Was Curry born with a basketball in his hands, sinking three-pointers? Sure, he had talent. But what made him a legend was hours upon hours of practice, refining that gift into something extraordinary.

As Benjamin Franklin put it in 1758, “An investment in knowledge pays the best interest.” For Curry, that knowledge came through sweat, repetition, and an unrelenting drive to improve. Practice turned his talent into something out of this world.

This got me thinking: where in my life have I applied that kind of focus? Three areas stand out.

First, public speaking. I may not be narrating audiobooks, but I’ve poured years into Toastmasters International, where I earned my Distinguished Toastmaster (DTM) designation—a testament to years of dedication. I’ve given hundreds of speeches and competed in numerous contests, earning trophies in table topics, evaluation, and international speech categories. I’ve worked hard to craft speeches that hit home—ones that tell compelling stories and deliver meaningful messages. Am I world-class? Not yet. But with more practice, I believe I could be. It’s a goal I’m chasing, and time will tell where it leads.

Second, my day job. I’ll keep this a bit mysterious for the blog, but here’s the deal: whatever you do for a living, if you stick with it and approach it with intention, you get better. Whether I was a youth pastor, working in insurance claims, or doing what I do now, I’ve seen how practice and effort pay off. When you invest time and energy, you don’t just do your job—you master it.

Third, being a husband. This is where I’ve practiced the most—and it’s been the greatest joy of my life. After over 26 years of marriage, I’m more in love with my wife today than ever. I strive to be the best husband I can be—more caring, more attentive, more in tune with her and our family’s needs. It doesn’t always feel like “practice” because I love it so much, but that’s the secret: when you pour your heart into something, you’re practicing without even realizing it. I hope my wife would say I’m a better husband now than I was five years ago—and light years ahead of the young guy she married all those years ago.

So, I’ll leave you with this: what are you practicing? What’s the thing you want to get better and better at? Maybe it’s a skill, a hobby, or a relationship. Whatever it is, embrace the grind. As Jarvis and Curry remind us, talent is just the starting line—practice is what takes you to the finish.

Drop a comment and let me know what you’re working on. Day 8 is in the books, and I’ll catch you tomorrow for Day 9!