Meet the man, the myth, the silver-haired scripture machine: a guy so wise that people assume he’s read the entire Bible three times this week alone. He hasn’t — but only because he was too busy traveling across state lines to watch Blake tear it up in AA ice hockey, shouting encouragement from the stands while quietly judging anyone who thinks a concession-stand hotdog counts as protein. He’s the only dad who can pray for the team, critique the refs, and eat a clean, high-protein snack all at the same time.
When he’s not freezing in an ice rink, he’s at home listening to Grant play guitar and sing worship songs — smiling like he’s witnessing a tiny revival in his living room. He’ll tell you it’s “no big deal,” but you can catch him tearing up every time the chorus hits.
A devoted husband and dad, he somehow balances family life, ministry invitations, gym time, and reminding you that you can do better — all without raising his voice or his resting heart rate. Rumor has it he can hold people accountable so gently you actually thank him afterward… right before he realistically calls you out on your nonsense. He doesn’t sugarcoat; he sanctifies.
He is a man of modesty… unless we’re talking about workout accomplishments, meal-prepping strategies, or the righteous superiority of his favorite sushi spot. And don’t even get him started on locally sourced steaks — he’ll tell you the rancher’s life story, pray for the cow’s legacy, and then grill it to perfection.
Healthy eating? Check. Early morning workouts? Check. A heart for Jesus and a desire to build strong, godly relationships everywhere he goes? Double check.
Modest, wise, fit, faithful — basically a Christian Batman, except with better hair and a gift for calling you out with love and accuracy.