Why I Started Writing (When I Was Ready to Quit Everything) Pt. 1
From burnout to burden.
Where do I start?
I guess here. By letting you in on what’s really been going on.
Some of you are meeting me for the first time through my writing. Welcome.
Others have known me for years—maybe since college, ministry days, or random work connections.
Wherever you’re coming from, I figured I owe you a look behind the curtain. Not for pity or attention, but because this is where the writing really started.
Not at a coffee shop with a dream, but somewhere between burnout, bitterness, and buried ambition.
Let’s work backward.
You're reading this on Substack, which is already strange if you know me. I’ve never been the “online guy.” Most of my Facebook posts are about my daughters—just enough to keep the extended family in Arkansas and Pennsylvania updated.
So why now?
Why write?
I’m finishing my first book right now. It was born out of a season I didn’t see coming.
I’m not here to promote it, but the events behind it matter.
A few years ago, I found myself buried under NICU-related medical debt and drowning from three failed business ventures.
Still grinding in a sales career I never really wanted, wondering how I got stuck doing something I never chose.
The pressure I put on myself to be financially “free” by a certain age was eating me alive. I had made promises to my wife and kids that I hadn’t delivered on, and it felt like time was running out.
I was exhausted.
Angry.
Numb.
And under all of that was this stubborn passion:
I wanted to take the gifts God gave me and actually do something with them.
Something that mattered.
Something that honored Him.
But I couldn’t see how anymore.
I became a Christian in 2003, right in the middle of pledging a fraternity.
From the jump, Jesus was everything. I took Him to pulpits, club parking lots, bookstores—anywhere I could.
After I graduated in 2007, I went to a small Bible school in Irving, TX.
It shaped me in ways I’m still unpacking.
I met my wife there.
Built deep friendships.
Had my calling confirmed.
I figured ministry was the path. Plant a church? Maybe. Travel and preach? Possibly. Go on staff at a local church? I was open.
But then real life showed up.
I needed a ring.
A job.
A future that could support a wife and eventually a family.
So I started applying. I had a degree in business and HR but couldn’t land anything. This was right when the 2007–2008 mortgage crash hit.
The economy tanked. Doors were locked.
I landed where most people do when nothing else is working—sales.
I told myself it was temporary. Just long enough to find something better.
That was 15 years ago.
I’ve come to see that sales isn’t just a paycheck.
It’s part of the creation mandate.
It’s dominion.
Work that provides, builds, serves.
But back then? It felt like survival.
Then I stumbled into entrepreneurship and thought I had found it. The blend of sales and business ownership felt like the perfect lane.
The plan was simple:
Build systems.
Generate passive income.
Buy back my time.
Finally live free.
I could write, teach, and preach as much or as little as I wanted.
Or so I thought.
Fast forward.
Three failed businesses.
Debt.
Pressure.
Zero time margin.
And the dream that once felt noble now felt naïve.
“I’m only good for changing diapers, making money for groceries, and doing it all over again.”
That’s how it felt.
I was bitter.
Drained.
Jealous.
I’d watch other men seem to thrive—promotions, clarity, influence—while I was just trying to keep my head up at work and get home before my kids went to sleep.
I tried to motivate myself.
Gary Vee.
Podcasts.
Old sermons.
None of it stuck.
At one point, I considered quitting my job cold turkey. Going into ministry, sink or swim.
That idea didn’t last long.
Reality slapped it down.
So I tried the long game.
Seminary prep.
Maybe I could hold on if I had a goal on the horizon.
But even that began to feel like chasing wind.
I couldn’t get clarity no matter what I tried.
Then one night, after weeks of Googling side hustles and business ideas, I came across self-publishing.
It clicked.
I like to write.
I have notebooks, scraps, half-formed ideas in random planners.
Why not try?
The first idea I had was to write Christian-ish self-help books.
I figured I’d keep the faith content light and make it marketable.
Build something broad.
Sell a bunch of copies.
Win.
But God wasn’t having that.
Proverbs 21:1
“The king’s heart is in the hand of the Lord. He turns it wherever He wants.”
That was me.
God turned my heart away from trying to write for a check and toward something deeper.
Keep reading. Part 2 is live now…