The Walk Off

It was a warm twilight night in the summer of 2006. I was standing in a field along with about 25 others who attended Life Connections. Though it would seem weird to many, our family and the group were pouring olive oil and praying over the five and a half acres that had been given to us in the heart of Fishers. Overwhelmed with thanksgiving, we were praying God’s anointing, favor, and Spirit would be on the soon to be built campus.


Walking along the west side of the property praying, I heard a voice, not audibly, but in my spirit say, “walk the property on the other side of the fence.” I had heard the inner voice before and learned to lean into it. Without hesitation, I climbed over the barbed wire fence and began my first walk off.

The land I had been walking on was mowed, but once over the fence, it was different. The grass was tall and as I walked I encountered thickets, brush, bushes with thorns, and fallen trees. There was a pond in the middle of the property, one that had been created when an overpass was put over the nearby interstate. That became my point of reference. I navigated around the pond, praying, pouring oil, and claiming the property for a church that was yet to be built on donated land.

It would not be the last time, in fact multiple times through the years God would prompt me to do another walk off. Over the barbed wire fence I would go, trudging through the rugged terrain, praying and claiming the land.

By early 2009 Life Connections new facility was completed, creating a beautiful campus. Ebbs and flows of pastoring kept us busy but still there would be days I would stand in my second-floor office and look out the window at the land to the west and wonder. Growth at Life began to explode and by 2014 we began to talk about our next expansion of our campus. As plans were being formed, I remember once again, hiking over the fence and taking a walk, claiming the land one more time. Construction on Phase 2 of our campus began in 2017 and it was about that time that I noticed some activity on the land to our west.

After some inquiring, I found that the property had been sold and that an assisted living center, Lake Meadows, was being built on the property. My heart was saddened. my spirit a little downcast. I had learned God’s promptings but, on that day, as work began on the far west end of the property, it seemed I had heard wrong and my walks in vain.

By 2020 our new stage and 300-seat auditorium was complete. Soon after we added an additional  175 chairs to handle incredible growth. It was that same year that Lake Meadows completed their construction. The owner of the property, Daniel Hubbard invited me to the ribbon cutting ceremony. He had not only built a beautiful facility, but also cleaned up much of the property, including a beautiful paved walking path around the pond that I had circled. That day was a mixture of happiness for him but some sadness for me. I still couldn’t get away from my prayers. Maybe it was my pride. Maybe it was embarrassment.

Fast forward six years, it’s 2026. Much had happened.

·  2020 – COVID has a devastating impact on our church.

·  2021 – God spoke to my spirit and said we had finished our purpose at Life.

·  2022 – Philip and Annie Daigle, are unanimously voted in as pastors of Life Connections.

·  2023-2026 – Miraculous growth. Two expansions. A new name and future, as Life Connections becomes Heart and Soul Church.

With that backdrop I come back to that first walk off in 2006. Mary and I are now but a reminder of what was, as life should, it goes on. But on a Sunday in February of 2026 the past, the walk offs, came rushing to the present. Setting in service, we are stunned when Pastor Philip announced that there has been an amazing opportunity for the church. The opportunity? The property to the west had become available and the church was in the process of securing the land.

While others clapped and rejoiced, Mary and I sat in silence. Emotions? Overwhelmed. Astonished. Stunned. Fill in the blank. A prayer that appeared dead, over, a futile waste of time, in an instant is very alive. 20 years later. In a different form. Under different leadership. A 20-year prayer is answered!

I often said that God says, “yes, no, and wait.” By experience I’ve often felt that God’s default answer was wait. I know people who are praying for physical and mental healings. Parents who have prayed for their children for years. Ministers who are praying for breakthroughs in their ministries or churches. People praying for financial relief. All seem to get the same answer, “wait.” Wait often feels like a “no.” External signs say it’s a “no.” Emotionally it often feels like a “no.” What do we do when “wait” feels like “no?” Keep praying. Have a faith that believes. Never let go of hope. Trust the process, God’s process. Keep walking it off!

I Found a Seashell!

We hadn’t been at the beach long when it happened. Though Carter had been to the beach before, this was the first time my three-year old grandson truly grasped the sand and the sea. We had all lined our chairs up for the day, beach toys cluttered the sand, and snacks were already being consumed when Carter headed to the ocean. He suddenly stops, stoops down, picks up a small shell, and screams with delight, “I found a seashell!” Running back with a smile the size of Texas, he proceeds to go down the line of chairs showing off his find to each of us. Each person responds as though he had found a piece of gold.

The shell that Carter had found was anything but special. It was small in his own little hand. It is one of thousands, no millions of little brown shells that lie along the beach. No one picks up little brown seashells, but Carter did and when he did, it changed everything. What was common to us was special to Carter, and suddenly, what was extraordinary to Carter became spectacular to us. Smiles were everywhere!

What if we all lived out life the way our family reacted when Carter found his treasure. What if we made other people’s small successes feel big? What if we celebrated the fact that someone figured out how to run the remote control on the smart tv, boil water or make toast? One of my favorite cartoons is Calvin and Hobbes. In one particular strip Calvin shows Hobbes how when he stuck bread down in the toaster it popped up later as toast. In the last frame the two are absolutely awestruck with wonder and excitement over how bread became toast.

Unfortunately, social media and life as a whole has taken away to excitement of small wonders and accomplishments. Instead of being excited for someone else’s successes, we tend to compare, become jealous and even belittle their small victories. Tragic. One would wonder what would happen if we began to encourage and celebrate each other intentionally.

What if we listened to the co-worker that often seems crabby, spoke an encouraging or kind word? Possibly it could change their perspective. How about investing in what inspires or energizes our spouse? Maybe we would find the spark that has been missing. What if we encouraged our kids when they fall short of a goal or aspiration rather than show disappointment? Little subtle changes in our attitude and actions can go a long way in impacting others.

What if we would have responded to Carter’s find differently? “What if we had said, don’t you realize there are thousands of those little shells? That shell is so small and ugly, you should see the one I found.” It would have crushed him. Without realizing it, often we crush others, not intentionally, but by simply not being in the moment.

The holiday season is nearly upon us and with it comes friends and family who step into our life for a short time. This season be intentional to listen. Decide to celebrate small successes. One can only imagine the change you might bring to someone’s world and your holiday season.

Walks with Carter

It’s my current morning ritual, my grandson Carter and I taking a walk around Little Circle Road. It’s something he gets excited about, and I must confess, it’s something I look forward to also. This new ritual has brought several observations. The first is that I know where we’re going, but Carter does not. He is dependent on me. He loves the walk, but he isn’t really concerned about the destination. He enjoys the walk with me, trusts that I know where we’re going, and that I will get him home.

The second thing I’ve noticed is that what is little to me is big to Carter. Leaving our garage, Carter either crawls or wants my hand as he crosses over the little edge between our garage and the driveway.  Every time we come to a crack in a sidewalk where it is uneven, once again, he either reaches for my hand or bends to crawl over it. What is small to me is immense to him. Here of late though, things have changed, he’s walked enough that he is now confident that he can get over what used to seem overwhelming. He slows, steps over them, and sometimes looks up at me with great pride. When he does, I make sure he knows I’m proud of him and his accomplishment.

The third observation is two-fold. First are dogs, big or small, loud bark or annoying yelp, scare Carter. To him, our neighbors’ dogs look like giants, they’re scary, and bring him fear, but me, I know the dogs, I know they’re all bark and no bight, and that they are actually friendly. Over time, I’ve helped Carter become comfortable with what he was fearful of, he now pets the giants. The second, things that are irrelevant to me, are treasures to Carter. Every trip Carter picks up multiple twigs, leaves and rocks and hands them to me. Maybe I should keep them, but most times, I discard them a few steps later. His valuables aren’t valuable to me.

The final reflection I’ve observed is that what seems like a small walk to me is a big walk to Carter. Invariably, at some point he stops, looks up at me, and raises his hands, he wants me to carry him. Like ice cream on a hot day, he melts my heart, and I gladly pick him up and carry him. Sometimes I carry him all the way home, other times he just wants a little break, he’s just a tad tired and needs a little rest. The journey that is a cake walk to me can be exhausting to Carter.

These experiences have given me some great insight to what it must be like for God dealing with me. Like Carter, I don’t know what a day will bring, but I’ve come to trust that Jesus knows my journey, and if I trust Him, he will get me home. Next, like Carter, there have been many obstacles in my life that looked enormous, but to God, they were small things. I’ve cried and he’s taken my hand and helped me through them. Now, after walking life’s road a while, I look back and see what was big then, is small now. Also, like Carter, I’ve faced my share of what I thought were giants, they looked big, barked loud, and intimidated me, but as I’ve walked with God, He’s taught me to, fear not, He is with me. Finally, as Carter, I get weary on my journey, feeling like I just don’t have the strength to go any further. It’s then, I’ve learned to reach out and up to Him, and He carries me. It may be what seems like an insurmountable storm, a weak moment, or just exhaustion, but God gladly wants to help me through.

In closing, my walks have caused me to reflect on Matthew 18, where Jesus picks up a child and says to the crowd, “truly I say to you, unless you change and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” I’ll be honest with you; I don’t know if I have ever grasped what Jesus was trying to teach us like I have over the past few months. As I’ve walked with Carter, I’ve seen myself and my journey with God. I’m trying to embrace the journey, to see my storms as He does, to understand that what are treasures on earth are worthless in heaven, and to trust Jesus to get me home. My walks with Carter have taught me I need to work on becoming more like a little child.