Modern Man's Journal

One of my favorite Greek myths is the story of Sisyphus. A man condemned by the gods to push a boulder up a mountain. Only for it to roll back down every time he reaches the summit. An eternal rock kicker. The punishment is not simply painful, it’s repetitive and apparent meaningless torment. Albert Camus looks at the myth of Sisyphus and turns it into picture of the human condition. We work. We love. We build. We lose. We do it over and over again. We eventually die. He says

There is a strange danger in believing you know yourself. We spend our lives constructing an image of who we are. We know what kind of person we believe ourselves to be. We know our virtues, our convictions, our intentions. We know the things we would never do and the kind of person we would never become. But how much of ourselves do we actually know? Carl Jung’s The Undiscovered Self begins with a disturbing possibility: perhaps the person I consciously believe myself to be

In life, there is a temptation to look back, especially when life hasn’t unfolded in the ways we planned, and see only loss. Remembering the person you were. The mistakes you made. The things you knew you should have done, but didn’t. The opportunities you let pass because of fear, laziness, pride, or simply the belief that there would always be more time. And there is something almost cruel about hindsight. You can finally see clearly, but you can no longer go back. I’ve had

Earlier this year, I was reading some of Henry Thoreau’s writing and came across this passage from Walden: “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and s

There have been many nights I’ve spent praying to my Heavenly Father, asking for forgiveness. Agonizing under the weight of sins I’ve committed. Telling Him that I’m done turning from Him. That I want to be remade new. Only to wake up the next day and fall back into the same ugly patterns. I’ve looked in the mirror and hated the image staring back at me. Not because of the face looking back, but because of the dirt I know is buried within me. Begging the Lord to burn away the

One of my favorite authors is C.S. Lewis. Most of his books are short in length, yet they contain some of the most profound paragraphs I've ever read, passages that many novels never seem to reach. In Till We Have Faces, he writes: “Die before you die. There is no chance after.” He is not speaking primarily of physical death, but of the death of the false self, the version of us that clings to pride, fear, control, comfort, reputation, or even good things that have quietly be

I touched on this a few weeks ago, but wanted to go a touch deeper on the topic of “enduring pain and failure.” —————————- Are you willing to lose for the thing you’re trying to achieve? To be punched in the face repeatedly? To question everything? To get within inches of victory only to watch someone else celebrate? To accept the possibility that you may never accomplish the goals you set out to reach? We often ask ourselves, Am I willing to work hard enough to win? It’s a g

Vincent Van Gogh once wrote: “Fishermen know that the sea is dangerous and the storm fearsome, but they have never found these dangers sufficient reason for remaining ashore. They leave that wisdom to those to whom it appeals. When the storm comes, when night falls, what’s worse: the danger or the fear of danger? Give me reality, the danger itself.” Scripture is full of people who stepped into danger because obedience mattered more than safety. They weren’t fearless. In fact,

Growing up, I thought faith meant refusing to let anything fade away. Now I think faith means loving fiercely, laboring honestly, honoring what has passed, and opening your hands when the Lord says, “Enough”. Neither resignation nor rebellion. Simply refusing to become less than who He has called you to be. Most of us have probably read Dylan Thomas’s Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night. I wouldn’t classify it as one of my favorite poems, but every time I revisit it, it spe

Recently, I wrote that “competition doesn’t make you an athlete, it reveals if you are one.” Meaning, when it’s the bottom of the ninth and the bases are loaded, as a pitcher am I going to be afraid to throw a strike because the hitter might hit a grand slam? Am I going to be afraid to walk him and bring in the winning run? Am I going to call to the dugout and ask the manager to bring in someone else because I wasn’t prepared for that kind of pressure? Or am I going to say, “

Recently, I saw a social media post with the caption: “If I train and act like an athlete, what’s the difference between me and an athlete?” The post went on to explain that this isn’t just a psychological trick to boost confidence or self-esteem, but a way to embody the person you want to become. The individual described how they live like a long-distance runner through training, nutrition, and sleep, and how practicing those habits has shaped them into that identity. I thin

There are moments when I catch myself mid-drive, mid-thought, mid-mile, and realize how strange and full this life has been. Not always easy. Rarely gentle. But undeniably vast. Last week, my best friend and I said to each other, “What a life we live.” This is inspired by that short conversation. ⸻ What a life I live, Where days flow into night on the road, Miles upon miles, Countless rivers crossed Each filled with their own stories Of trappers, travelers, and wanderers. Wha

One of my favorite books is Jubal Sackett by Louis L’Amour (shoutout to my sister who got me hooked). It’s an adventure about a young explorer traveling across early America in the 1600s. L’Amour has this rare gift—he can tell a story that keeps you turning the pages while slipping in lines that hit your soul like truth itself. There’s one line from Jubal Sackett that’s stayed with me ever since I first read it. I remember exactly where I was: September 2021, sitting by mysel

You can scream at the world. Express your anger and distaste for the way things have gone. Put to words everything you hate and despise....

You’ll get them tomorrow? No you won’t. Tomorrow is a lie. Your enemy is here. Defeat it now. Hesitation is poison. The fire you feel...

When things don’t go according to plan—when we fail, when loss shows up at our door—it’s easy to throw up our hands and say, “Here we go...

A few years ago I wrote about an Abyss of Despair that was ever present in my life. No matter what I did. Where I went. This feeling of...

Dear Mountain, I’ve thought about quitting you. About turning around. About walking away from everything you represent. You’re too big....

There comes a point where the noise stops feeling like noise and starts feeling like invitation. Not the kind you’re meant to accept— but...

For most of my life, I’ve leaned on logic. I’ve looked for the practical route, tried to make sense of things—every decision, every step,...