A passage for the man who did it right and feels hollow anyway. Five men. One guide who walked it. And at the end, answers — yours — to the three questions you can't answer right now.
Apply for the founding cohortIn six months you'll be able to say — in your own words, without guilt — who you are, what you actually want, and what you're living for. And you'll have the evidence:
Not a saved marriage, a new career, or a fixed relationship with your son. Those may come. They aren't mine to promise. What I promise is that you'll stop navigating by everyone else's map — and you'll have done something about it.
Same day, same time, all six months. Five men and me. One man in the chair each week with the thing he's carrying.
One short teaching, one exercise, one post to the group. Real work, not homework.
Month one, month three, month six. Just you and me.
Home base throughout — and after. You don't leave. You come back as the man who answers the new guy.
This isn't for a man who wants a system to optimize himself. A man in acute crisis who needs clinical care first. Or a man who wants to be told his wife is the problem.
The Personal Life Inventory, completed and read back to you. The first honest telling of where you actually are. Your answers get kept — you'll see them again in month six.
Each man takes the chair and tells the group the thing he's carried alone. Not all of it — the edge of it. The Noticing Journal begins.
The sentence you've been living by — I matter when I ___ — named, traced, and replaced. Ten minutes of silence every morning begins. Prayer if you pray. Listening if you don't yet.
Ten wants, unfiltered, sorted: mine, absorbed, unsure. A two-hour silence. Then the three questions, answered in writing, in your own voice. This is the turn.
One thing removed that was never yours. One thing added that is. And the conversation you've been avoiding — planned in the chair, had in the world.
The Inventory again, and your month-one answers read back to you. The practice at ninety days. The final session: each man says what changed and what he's for now.
A few years ago I sat on a rock, looking at the wreckage of a life I'd built, and realized none of it was ever what I wanted. What got me back wasn't a system. It was my father, a priest, a near-stranger who showed up at the right time — and through them, God. Nearly two decades of leadership and executive coaching taught me how to ask questions. That road taught me which ones matter.
This is Christian coaching. Not therapy, not ministry. I'll walk beside you and ask the questions you've been avoiding — and I'll point you toward your own church for the things that belong there.
The founding cohort is a trade: you get the full passage at a founding price that won't be offered again, and I get five men whose stories I can tell. We'll talk through the investment in our conversation — it's the kind of decision that deserves a real discussion, not a checkout page.
I don't take every man who applies. Not because I'm exclusive — because five seats means five men who are all in, and I owe it to the other four to make sure you're one of them.
Apply & book a conversation →Eight short questions, then thirty minutes with me. No agenda beyond honesty.