Updates and New Formats: LTS and Life Lessons
I’ve realized I’ve been putting off updates for a while, partly because of busyness, but also because I think I need a new format. So I’m trying something different. Lately, I’ve been recording short videos while I’m driving, sharing what’s been going on and what I’m learning. It’s a pocket of time I already have each week, and it feels natural to talk things out. The plan is to take those videos, generate transcripts, and turn them into written updates like this one. It’s a new approach, but I’m hoping it’ll make staying connected a little easier and faster. We’ll see how it goes.
Learning, Listening, and Letting God Change Us
Hey friends,
I wanted to share a little update about what’s been happening since coming back from Kona. It’s been a full and stretching season — one filled with gratitude, reflection, and a lot of growth for both Olivia and me.
Processing After Kona
Coming home has been good but also surprisingly hard. After the mountain-top experience of Leadership Training School (LTS) in Kona, it felt a bit like hitting a wall once we got back to Taiwan. There’s still excitement about all that God is doing, but also the realization that re-entry takes time. I’m deeply thankful for everyone who continues to pray for us, support us, and remind us that we’re not doing this alone.
Reaching Gen Z Missionally
One of the biggest takeaways from LTS for me was thinking about generations as a mission field. Just like a missionary learns a new language and culture to reach another people group, we need to approach Gen Z with the same humility and curiosity. Too often, older generations (ours included) ask young people to “meet us halfway” — to adapt to our ways of communicating, dressing, or worshipping. But Jesus calls us to go to them, to understand their world, and to believe that they are the ones God will use to lead the next wave of missions. I realized how much this cultural moment mirrors the late 60s and 70s — a time of social upheaval that also birthed the Jesus Movement. There’s a similar opportunity right now, globally, for Gen Z to encounter Jesus in a fresh way.
One story that stuck with me came from a college ministry leader in California who invited Gen Zers to help him revamp his wardrobe and even his haircut — not for fashion’s sake, but because he didn’t want anything unnecessary to become a barrier to connection. It’s a simple but powerful picture of humility and intentional listening.
A phrase that keeps echoing in my heart is:
“Who you listen to is who you’ll reach.”
As leaders, that means choosing to listen deeply to the people God’s called us to reach — even when it’s uncomfortable.
And honestly, the more experience you have, the easier it becomes to stop taking risks. I’ve been challenged to stay open, to keep listening, and to let younger voices shape how we reach and disciple their generation.
Parenting and Personal Change
Olivia shared during the video that she discovered her natural leadership and parenting style leans more toward the traditional, top-down approach — the kind that says, “I know what’s best for you.” It works well when kids are small, but as they grow, it can unintentionally limit their ability to think and choose for themselves.
During one of the LTS sessions, as we prayed, we both felt God speak clearly:
“If you don’t change as parents, you’ll lose your children.”
That moment hit hard. It wasn’t condemnation — it was an invitation. God was calling us to love our kids differently in this next season.
We began to see how much of our reactions as parents came from our own childhood experiences — how anger, frustration, or shame can surface when emotions get high. Olivia shared how she’s learning to reconnect emotions to joy, excitement, or hope, instead of defaulting to anger. She even used a simple moment with our daughter Neah as an example: helping her recognize that hunger doesn’t have to lead to anger — it can lead to joy and anticipation. For us, this season has been about learning emotional resilience — pausing before reacting, staying connected when things get tense, and giving space for our kids’ emotions instead of shutting them down.
It’s changing not only how we parent, but how we lead and relate to others. As Olivia said,
“Doing things is not hard. Dealing with people’s emotions is harder.”
And yet, that’s the space where God’s really transforming us.
Ministry Updates
Olivia has been serving with the YWAM Taiwan National Office, helping organize the upcoming National Staff Conference. It’s her first time coordinating this event in about six years, so it’s been both challenging and meaningful — especially as she processes some of the emotions from transitioning away from her previous team. She’s been learning to have empathy for herself and for others as the new team finds its rhythm.
I recently returned from teaching in Malaysia and Singapore, where I led the Joshua–Judges–Ruth–Psalms week in a Discipleship Bible School. It was a joy to teach again and see how God’s word transforms young people. I also visited the YWAM base in Singapore to learn about their sustainable young-adult training model, and came away encouraged to see how much of what they’re doing aligns with what we’re already building here in Taipei.
Life at the Base
Back in Taipei, our base rhythm has shifted a little — from meeting Monday afternoons to Tuesday and Thursday mornings — which has been a real gift. It means Olivia can join more often and feel more connected to community. We’re both thankful for this new season of deeper teamwork and shared life.
Looking Ahead
We’re still processing all that God has done through LTS — not just in what we’ve learned, but in how we’ve been changed. This season feels like God is teaching us to lead from the heart, to listen before speaking, and to trust that transformation often begins quietly, inside the home.
Thank you so much for walking with us — your prayers, encouragement, and love keep us going when things get hard. We’re grateful for every one of you.
The Backlog pt.2: Philippines
Last year I had the opportunity to attend two gatherings in the Philippines in August that deeply marked me. The first was the Malachi Gathering, a meeting for 300 young leaders within YWAM. The second was Y Together , where over 4000 YWAMers from all over the world came together. Both events were an invitation to respond to the call for a next generation to rise up.
The Malachi gathering was a rallying cry for my generation to step up, not just as the “next generation,” but as leaders now. And in the process, I had a realization: I’m not the next generation anymore. I’m not the one being handed the torch — I’m one of the ones holding it, and it’s time to help pass it forward. That’s both exciting and sobering.
For so long I’ve thought of myself as one of the young ones still figuring it out, still growing. And for sure, I’m still growing. But these gatherings challenged me to recognize where I now stand — not only as a disciple, but as a discipler. Not just a receiver, but a giver. It’s time to walk alongside those who will go further and carry it longer than I ever will. And it’s time to keep showing up, even when it’s hard, to keep being faithful, and to not give up.
There was a lot of talk in those meetings about legacy, about passing on the DNA of YWAM to a generation that might never meet Loren Cunningham. That’s a big deal. Most movements lose momentum after the founder dies. Vision fades, and structure takes over. But Loren’s heart was always that Jesus would remain the leader of YWAM. And if that's true, then our responsibility is to keep listening to God, obeying, and not giving up. Those were the same values as the first pioneering generation.
One theme that kept coming up over and over was the fear of the Lord. Not in a “don’t sin” kind of way, but in the holy, weighty kind of way. A recognition that God is real, and close, and holy, and present. That the weight we carry in leadership must be matched by the depth of our surrender. That if we want to go far, we need intimacy, not just activity. That prayer can’t only happen at the end of meetings. That everything has to be fueled by intimacy, or it burns out fast.
There was this one moment that I keep coming back to: someone asked, “Are you willing to be disrupted by God?” And man… that question has stuck with me. Because I like planning, I like structure, I like knowing what’s next. But this season of stepping into deeper leadership has also meant making space for God to interrupt everything. To listen more. To lean into prayer before strategy. To make room for the next generation not just with words, but with my time, my presence, and my leadership.
I came back from those gatherings with a deeper conviction that I’m committed to staying. I’m committed to continuing. And I’m committed to raising up the young leaders around me. It’s interesting reflecting on this half a year after it happened, because there have been many times where I have wanted to give up. People work is hard work, and I’ve struggled a lot this last half year and I need to be reminded of these things.
I want to be the kind of leader who doesn’t just build things for my own name, but is the kind of leadership that leans on Jesus, listens to Him, and brings others along for the journey. Truly, when I think about the young people around me I feel hopeful. There is greater vision, greater hope for the future, a love for others unmatched, even though they are starting further back.
So I guess this is me saying yes again.
Yes to walking with Jesus in the long direction.
Yes to raising up leaders who will go further than I ever will.
Yes to prayer.
Yes to being disrupted.
Yes to carrying the legacy forward.
I don’t have it all figured out. But I’m here. And I’m in.
Let’s do this together
Some Values
To value discipleship is to be committed to growth together. The journey of becoming like Christ together.
I was preparing to share on some of the base values of YWAM Taipei, and as I sat with my notes, I found myself reflecting on my own journey with God and just life in general.
One of the values I shared was Biblically Grounded Discipleship.
Jesus said in Matthew 28, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations…” The primary clause in this passage is go and make disciples, and the rest of the commands are subordinate to those two ideas. Simply, the main call of Christians is 1) to go, 2) make disciples. Everything else falls under those. In seminary, one professor described discipleship as a journey done together at 3 mph. That’s walking speed, slow, but continuous, faithful, a speed where you can talk. Discipleship is a journey done together.
I’ve been reading a book called Future Focused Church (a great book), and there are always new strategies and research about how to lead people for today. Those are helpful and good, but I’m just struck by the importance of the journey of a body of believers just walking in life together for the long haul. I so often want quick feedback and quick implementation and evaluation, and the endless cycle of progress, but I’m reminded to simply be faithful to walk the path together with those around me. To value discipleship is to be committed to growth together. The journey of becoming like Christ together.
Another core value for us is being Relational — locally and globally.
This is something Darlene Cunningham once said — that YWAM doesn’t move through power or control, but through relationship, influence, and prayer. That stuck with me. We don’t want to build a ministry based on who has the loudest voice or strongest will. We want to be the kind of people who show up, who care, and who earn trust over time. The kind of people who wash each other’s feet. Who humble ourselves even when we’re “right.” That’s the kind of love Jesus modeled.
In John 17, Jesus prays, “That they may be one... so that the world may believe that you have sent me.”
Unity isn’t just a nice sentiment, it’s our witness to the world. The reality is that it’s hard, I often feel it, the loneliness, the tension, the moments where it feels like “us vs them.” That’s real. And this value is a commitment to fight for each other. To commit to staying at the table.
I was teaching the book of Judges a few weeks ago and was increasingly upset at how badly so many of the judges lost their identity as the people of God. Treating God as a god to be manipulated, lacking reverence, spending more time fighting against their own tribesmen than foreign invaders. And yet, in Hebrews 11:32-34, many of these judges I believe are failures, the text calls them heroes. In order to stay relational, I need to see people with God’s eyes, not mine. That’s true for individuals, churches, and other organizations. It’s hard to stay relational, people stuff is hard. The biggest reason missionaries leave the field is interpersonal relationships and that is sad, but revealing about the difficulty we face. And yet, we are still called to it and we have to fight for.
This isn’t a perfect base. But we are people who are trying to love Jesus, love each other, and love Taiwan well and I think that’s all I can ask for.
Living By Faith
For the past three years or so, I’ve been wrestling with this ongoing question: what does it actually mean to trust God with my life and family and where’s my responsibility? Where’s the line between wisdom and fear? What does faith look like in your thirties? What will it look like in my forties?
Living by faith hasn’t been easy these past few years.
In the early days of being a missionary, it was honestly kind of simple. We didn’t have much. Money was always tight, but we got to see God’s hand provide again and again. There was something raw and beautiful about that season.
But now, being older—married, with kids—things feel heavier, harder. I think about college funds. I think about saving for retirement. All the stuff I could put off in my twenties doesn’t feel optional anymore. I feel like I’m paying the price for everything I didn’t plan ahead for. And that feels heavy.
For the past three years or so, I’ve been wrestling with this ongoing question: what does it actually mean to trust God with my life and family and where’s my responsibility? Where’s the line between wisdom and fear? What does faith look like in your thirties? What will it look like in my forties?
It hit again recently because of tax season. It’s hard every year. I know I need to save for taxes, but it always feels like I’m just barely scraping by. Some years, I’m not even sure I break even. And in the middle of that, I keep asking myself: what does it mean to be responsible? And how do I balance that with childlike trust?
I think about missionaries from past generations—people who gave their whole adult lives to this calling. Many of them hit retirement age without much to fall back on. I get it. Supporting a 25-year-old missionary feels exciting. Supporting a 65-year-old doesn’t have the same draw. And I feel that. I feel the fear of becoming a burden, of losing my appeal as I get older and having nothing to fall back on.
If I’m honest, I’ve been carrying a lot of stress trying to secure some kind of future—trying to arrive at that place where I don’t have to live paycheck to paycheck. But then Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount come back to me. “Don’t worry about tomorrow.” The birds don’t stress about where to sleep. The flowers aren’t working overtime to look beautiful. God takes care of them. How much more does He care for His kids?
Children don’t (shouldn’t) worry about provision. They can just trust. They know their parents will be there for them. That’s the kind of faith I want. But man, it’s hard. I’ve got three kids now. We will be helping to raise my niece and nephew. I’m still a missionary. And some days, it feels impossible to trust. The stakes are higher now. It feels too heavy.
Tho, maybe that’s the invitation. To trust more deeply. To step into the unknown. To go past the precipice, believing there’s going to be something to catch me. A step, a net, even a trampoline.
It’s been a constant wrestle. But I remember someone once told me, “When you die to yourself, you don’t get back up—you’ve died.” And I want that. I want to die to myself and live for Christ.
So here’s to laying this down—again.
the backlog pt.1
It’s a start
There’s no excuse for not writing updates, so I’ll be using this website to first catch up on the things that have happened in the past year and then between monthly (bi-monthly?) newsletters, having a place to put smaller thoughts, interesting things that have happened, creative projects, and generally keep more updated. Somewhere between the frequent impermanence of Instagram stories and the less frequent nature of writing newsletters is where this will exist.