I was kicking a rock. That's how it started.

Not in a prayer room. Not at a conference. Not in front of a whiteboard covered in brainstorming notes. I was walking through a neighborhood in temporary housing, praying in the Holy Spirit, overwhelmed by everything God was doing in our lives — and I started kicking a rock down the street the way I've done since I was a kid. The Holy Spirit was with me. He was leading. And He was about to show me something I never could have found on my own.

Let me back up.

On March 6, 2026, a tornado hit our home in Broken Arrow. Rain poured through the roof. Our world shifted overnight. Twenty-one days later, the company Gabby and I had both given years to let us know our positions were being restructured. In three weeks, we went from employed homeowners to unemployed and displaced.

Most people would call that devastating. We're not most people.

We left on excellent terms. No bitterness. No hard feelings. We're still that company's biggest fans. But something was happening beneath the surface — something we couldn't engineer and couldn't stop. God wasn't taking things away from us. He was clearing the ground.

The week before the tornado, we had gone to a one-day missions conference here in Tulsa. Nations have always been on my heart — it's why I went to Mexico in 2001. The Lord stirred us that entire day. And as I walked out to the car afterward, processing everything, I heard Him speak to me. Not audibly. But I know His voice. I'm very careful about saying "thus saith the Lord" — but this was Him.

Not in a prayer room. Not at a conference. Not in front of a whiteboard covered in brainstorming notes. I was walking through a neighborhood in temporary housing, praying in the Holy Spirit, overwhelmed by everything God was doing in our lives — and I started kicking a rock down the street the way I've done since I was a kid. The Holy Spirit was with me. He was leading. And He was about to show me something I never could have found on my own.

Let me back up.

On March 6, 2026, a tornado hit our home in Broken Arrow. Rain poured through the roof. Our world shifted overnight. Twenty-one days later, the company Gabby and I had both given years to let us know our positions were being restructured. In three weeks, we went from employed homeowners to unemployed and displaced.

Most people would call that devastating. We're not most people.

We left on excellent terms. No bitterness. No hard feelings. We're still that company's biggest fans. But something was happening beneath the surface — something we couldn't engineer and couldn't stop. God wasn't taking things away from us. He was clearing the ground.

The week before the tornado, we had gone to a one-day missions conference here in Tulsa. Nations have always been on my heart — it's why I went to Mexico in 2001. The Lord stirred us that entire day. And as I walked out to the car afterward, processing everything, I heard Him speak to me. Not audibly. But I know His voice. I'm very careful about saying "thus saith the Lord" — but this was Him.

Not in a prayer room. Not at a conference. Not in front of a whiteboard covered in brainstorming notes. I was walking through a neighborhood in temporary housing, praying in the Holy Spirit, overwhelmed by everything God was doing in our lives — and I started kicking a rock down the street the way I've done since I was a kid. The Holy Spirit was with me. He was leading. And He was about to show me something I never could have found on my own.

Let me back up.

On March 6, 2026, a tornado hit our home in Broken Arrow. Rain poured through the roof. Our world shifted overnight. Twenty-one days later, the company Gabby and I had both given years to let us know our positions were being restructured. In three weeks, we went from employed homeowners to unemployed and displaced.

Most people would call that devastating. We're not most people.

We left on excellent terms. No bitterness. No hard feelings. We're still that company's biggest fans. But something was happening beneath the surface — something we couldn't engineer and couldn't stop. God wasn't taking things away from us. He was clearing the ground.

The week before the tornado, we had gone to a one-day missions conference here in Tulsa. Nations have always been on my heart — it's why I went to Mexico in 2001. The Lord stirred us that entire day. And as I walked out to the car afterward, processing everything, I heard Him speak to me. Not audibly. But I know His voice. I'm very careful about saying "thus saith the Lord" — but this was Him.

Not in a prayer room. Not at a conference. Not in front of a whiteboard covered in brainstorming notes. I was walking through a neighborhood in temporary housing, praying in the Holy Spirit, overwhelmed by everything God was doing in our lives — and I started kicking a rock down the street the way I've done since I was a kid. The Holy Spirit was with me. He was leading. And He was about to show me something I never could have found on my own.

Let me back up.

On March 6, 2026, a tornado hit our home in Broken Arrow. Rain poured through the roof. Our world shifted overnight. Twenty-one days later, the company Gabby and I had both given years to let us know our positions were being restructured. In three weeks, we went from employed homeowners to unemployed and displaced.

Most people would call that devastating. We're not most people.

We left on excellent terms. No bitterness. No hard feelings. We're still that company's biggest fans. But something was happening beneath the surface — something we couldn't engineer and couldn't stop. God wasn't taking things away from us. He was clearing the ground.

The week before the tornado, we had gone to a one-day missions conference here in Tulsa. Nations have always been on my heart — it's why I went to Mexico in 2001. The Lord stirred us that entire day. And as I walked out to the car afterward, processing everything, I heard Him speak to me. Not audibly. But I know His voice. I'm very careful about saying "thus saith the Lord" — but this was Him.