You don't have to walk this road alone.

When my father died, I thought I was prepared for it. We knew his health was declining, but I wasn't prepared for how much his death would change the way I looked at myself.

I was 43 years old, married, and raising two teenage boys. After Dad died, I started thinking about everything I wished I had said to him and all the things I wished we had done together. Then I began questioning myself as a father. Was I making the same mistakes he made? Would my boys remember me as someone who was always working and rarely available? Was I actually being the father I wanted to be?

I found myself becoming more withdrawn, and when my wife asked what was wrong, I usually said, 'Nothing.' I didn't know how to explain what I was feeling.

Coaching with Joe was different from what I expected. He didn't tell me how to grieve or give me a list of things to do. He asked questions that helped me see how my relationship with my father was shaping my relationship with my own children.

One question really stayed with me: 'What do you want your sons to remember about being your sons?'

That question changed something for me. I began having conversations with my boys that I had avoided for years. I started being more intentional about spending time with them and telling them I loved them.

I still miss my dad. But I'm no longer allowing the things I wish had been different in our relationship to determine the kind of father I am today. Coaching helped me realize that I couldn't change the past, but I could choose how I wanted to show up for my family now.

Our congregation had been part of the community for 67 years. Generations of families had been baptized, confirmed, married, and buried from our church. We had so many wonderful memories, and we were proud of our history.

But the truth was that we were dying, and none of us wanted to admit it.

Sunday attendance had declined to fewer than 25 people. Our building needed repairs, our volunteers were getting older, and every year we were taking more money from our savings just to stay open.

We kept telling ourselves that if we found the right pastor, started another program, or invited more young families, things would turn around. We had been having those same conversations for almost a decade.

When we began coaching with Joe, some of us thought he would help us develop a plan to grow the congregation. Instead, he helped us ask a much harder question: 'What is God calling this congregation to do now?'

Through coaching, we began talking openly about our fears. We realized we weren't just afraid of closing a church. We were afraid of losing our history, our relationships, and a place that had been home to us for most of our lives.

Joe helped us understand that being faithful to our congregation's mission didn't necessarily mean preserving our building or maintaining everything the way it had always been.

Eventually, our leadership began exploring a merger with another Lutheran congregation nearby. It wasn't an easy decision. There were tears, disagreements, and moments when we wanted to go back to pretending everything was fine.

But something changed when we stopped asking how to keep our church alive and started asking how our congregation's ministry could continue.

We are now taking steps toward merging with another congregation. For the first time in years, our conversations are about possibilities instead of survival.

Coaching didn't save our church in the way we originally hoped. It helped us discover that our ministry could have a future even if our congregation didn't continue in the same form.

After 67 years, we are learning that sometimes the most faithful thing we can do is let go of what was so that something new can begin.

I completed my coach training, earned my certification, and knew all the competencies. On paper, I was ready to coach. But every time I sat down with a client, I felt like I was pretending to be someone who knew what they were doing.

I was so worried about asking the perfect question that I stopped listening to what my clients were actually saying. If there was silence, I rushed to fill it. If a client became emotional, I immediately tried to move them toward a solution.

After one session, I spent almost an hour replaying the conversation in my head, thinking about everything I should have done differently. I seriously considered giving up coaching.

I started working with Joe because I wanted to improve my coaching skills, but what we discovered was that my biggest obstacle wasn't my training. It was my lack of confidence.

Joe helped me recognize how much pressure I was putting on myself to prove that I was a good coach. He challenged me to stop focusing on my performance and start trusting the coaching relationship.

One of the most meaningful things he helped me understand was that I didn't have to be the smartest person in the room. I needed to be curious, present, and willing to trust my clients.

Over time, I became more comfortable with silence, stopped planning my next question while clients were speaking, and began trusting my instincts.

My coaching has improved, but more importantly, I actually enjoy it now.

Joe helped me discover that becoming a better coach wasn't about learning another technique. It was about becoming more comfortable being myself.

When I started my coaching business, I told people I could coach anyone who wanted to make a change. I worked with people facing career transitions, leadership challenges, relationship issues, and just about anything else.

I thought keeping my options open would help me grow my business. Instead, I struggled to explain what I actually offered. I spent hours changing my website, rewriting my biography, and trying to come up with the perfect coaching package.

After two years, I was still treating coaching like an expensive hobby instead of a business.

Working with Joe helped me realize that I was trying to serve everyone because I was afraid of turning anyone away.

He challenged me to think about the people I most enjoyed coaching and the conversations that gave me the greatest sense of purpose.

I realized that my most meaningful work happened when I was helping professionals navigate major career changes.

Through coaching, I clarified who I wanted to serve, developed a more focused coaching offer, and created realistic goals for building my practice.

Instead of spending weeks redesigning my website, I began having conversations with prospective clients. Instead of comparing myself to other coaches, I started paying attention to the value I could bring.

Within six months, I had developed a consistent group of paying clients and finally felt like I was building something sustainable.

Joe didn't give me a formula for running a coaching business. He helped me stop hiding behind preparation and start taking action.

Individual results vary. Business outcomes depend on many factors beyond coaching.

I had been working as a hospital chaplain for almost eight years when I realized I was beginning to dread going to work.

I still cared deeply about the patients and families I served, but the constant exposure to death, grief, and trauma was wearing me down.

There were days when I would sit with a family whose loved one had just died, walk into another room to support someone receiving a terminal diagnosis, and then respond to an emergency in the intensive care unit. By the end of my shift, I felt completely empty.

The hardest part was that I didn't know what to do with those feelings. I was the person everyone else turned to for support. I didn't know how to admit that I needed support myself.

My family noticed that I was becoming distant. I stopped talking about my day, lost interest in activities I used to enjoy, and found myself becoming irritated by little things.

I began coaching with Joe because I was seriously considering leaving chaplaincy.

What made our conversations different was that Joe understood the world of spiritual care. I didn't have to explain why a particular encounter stayed with me or why setting boundaries in ministry could feel selfish.

He helped me explore the expectations I had placed on myself and the belief that being a good chaplain meant always being available.

Through coaching, I began developing healthier boundaries, paying attention to my emotional needs, and finding ways to reconnect with my calling.

I still have difficult days. That's part of this work. But I no longer believe that carrying everyone's suffering is proof that I'm doing my job well.

Coaching helped me understand that I can be fully present with others without losing myself in the process.

I entered Clinical Pastoral Education believing that my years of ministry experience would prepare me for whatever the program required.

I was wrong.

I had preached sermons, led worship, visited people in hospitals, and provided pastoral care for years. But CPE challenged me to look at myself in ways I wasn't expecting.

During one group session, I received feedback about how quickly I moved into giving advice when someone shared something painful. I thought I was being helpful, but my peers were encouraging me to recognize how uncomfortable I was with another person's emotions.

That feedback stayed with me. I began questioning whether I was actually good at pastoral care.

I started coaching with Joe because I wanted someone outside my CPE group who could help me process what I was learning.

Joe helped me separate the feedback I was receiving from the conclusions I was making about myself. Instead of seeing every growing edge as evidence that I wasn't a good chaplain, I began looking at those moments as opportunities to become more self-aware.

He also challenged me to think about my pastoral identity beyond the roles and expectations I had carried for years.

Over time, I became more comfortable receiving feedback, more aware of my emotional responses, and more willing to sit with people without feeling responsible for fixing their problems.

By the end of my CPE unit, I wasn't the same chaplain who had started the program.

I was still learning, but I had stopped expecting myself to have every answer.

Joe helped me recognize that being a faithful and effective chaplain wasn't about having everything figured out. It was about being willing to learn, grow, and become more fully present to the people I serve.