Sacrifices, Roller Hockey, and the Tesla Tabernacle

It’s the 4th of July weekend. I’ve always loved fireworks. I found myself driving around alone, wishing there was someone in the passenger seat, sharing this little joy with me.

And it hit me:
I think one of my deepest love languages is quality time. Not just being around people, but being with them. I thought for a long time my love language was physical touch, but more than anything, I long for moments together with someone that mean something.

I also realized there are two sides to love languages.

• The way I give love is through gifts, thoughtful gestures, surprising someone.

• But the way I feel loved? It’s delighting in them — quality time.

It’s tough when there’s no one right now to share those simple drives with.
Sometimes it even tempts me to seek out counterfeit intimacy — paying to be close, paying just to be able to pour affection and attention into someone who will accept it. I’ve been there, and I’ve been honest with God and others about that. This has led me to repeat this line to myself lately:

A Harder Sacrifice

This weekend, I watched my brother and dad play roller hockey.
If you know me, you know how much I love the game.
I want to be in that tournament. I want to push for the next level, attend camps, and see how far I can really take it. I’m only 28. My brother’s playing in AA 30+, surrounded by guys with serious skill — there’s a part of me that wants to chase that dream.

But there’s a bigger pull on my heart.

A holy tension.

Because Promote Ministry is stirring in me deeper than any goal I could have on the rink.
And if I’m being honest, that’s heartbreaking in its own way.
I wish I could just forget about ministry sometimes. I wish I could be simple and normal, spend my money on hockey camps, spend my weekends chasing a championship.

But I can’t.

And strangely… beautifully, I don’t even want to.

The Tesla Tabernacle

Tonight I spent time really cleaning out my Tesla.
It’s crazy, but I feel so content sitting in it. Like it’s a little tabernacle on wheels, a sacred space where I’m learning to trust God with my story.
I’m excited to travel in it, to see where this next season leads.
I’m also scared. There are a lot of unknowns.

But deep inside, I keep hearing this quiet voice:

An Honest Thought I’ve Had Recently: I Hope God Sees

I hope God sees my willingness to lay down hockey — at least right now — to pour my life into what I believe He’s asking me to do.
I hope He sees that I’d rather build a ministry that meets people mid-story, even if it costs me some personal dreams.
I hope He takes these little sacrifices and does something beautiful with them.
And to tell you the truth, sometimes I think, “Will I ever be rewarded for this sacrifice?” I want to see it here on this side of Heaven. I know there’s an eternal reward. But I need some validation and encouragement to press on. I’d like some affirmation from God.

And yet, the affirmation is all around me.

❤️ If You’re Reading This...

I want you to know that it’s okay to hold two deep desires in tension.
It’s okay to grieve what you’re setting aside while still moving joyfully toward what you believe matters more.
It’s okay to be human and hopeful at the same time.

If you’re wrestling with laying down something you love to follow God’s nudge on your heart, I see you.
More importantly, God sees you.
Not one tear, not one private sacrifice goes unnoticed.

Thanks For Being Here

I don’t know how all of this will turn out.
But I’m taking one small, scary, exciting step at a time.
Thanks for walking with me.

And as Paul says, “Follow me as I follow Christ.” — 1 Corinthians 11:1