A prayer taking shape

Trusting that the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.

I keep wanting to wait until this whole thing feels more polished.

Until the website explains everything perfectly. Until the schedule is clearer. Until the coaching team is complete. Until I can answer every parent question with confidence. Until I stop wondering whether families will understand what we feel called to build.

But at some point, waiting for all of that is not wisdom. It’s stalling. It’s fear of failure dressed up as preparation.

There are days when His Farm System feels blessed and full of purpose. There are other days when I feel buried under doubt. I wonder whether anyone other than us actually wants this. Whether we are the right people to lead it. Whether stepping into this kind of visible leadership is wise, because leaders are judged harshly. People have opinions. And when you say, out loud, that you believe something needs to change, you also open yourself up to being misunderstood.

Most days, I ask God, You sure we’re on the right track over here?

But then I remember too many signs to ignore. “Coincidences”, doors opening at exactly the right time. Not enough to make us feel fully prepared, but enough to keep taking the next step.

So that’s what we’re doing. Not perfectly, but faithfully. We don’t have it all figured out. But it is real. And it is beginning.

Zechariah 4:10 says, “Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.”

That verse feels like a gift right now. Because this is a small beginning, and those feel fragile, unimpressive, vulnerable, so easy to doubt. But they can also be holy, right?

There have been some really beautiful parts. As a family, we have had meaningful conversations about calling, service, strategy, sacrifice, and obedience. Building the brand together has stretched our creativity and reminded us why this matters so deeply. Learning new skills, like how to manage a baseball organization and build a website, has been humbling and strangely fun.

I’m also taking summer classes through Baylor’s Faith + Sport Institute, learning about sports, theology, identity, and formation, then immediately getting to apply it to this work. It’s the first time studying, formally in school, has been tangible in any way.

But the hard parts have been real and raw.

Our summer long toss program taught us a lot, mostly the hard way. Summer schedules make attendance difficult. Personalities don’t always mesh. Some things worked. But most all of it revealed gaps we need to address before fall ball.

And honestly, that is humbling. But I am trying to frame it as mercy.

We are trying to build something rooted in Christ, where boys are proud to be seen as image-bearers before athletes. Where their identity is not tied to a stat line, roster spot, velocity number, or tournament result. Where baseball matters, but it does not get to become lord.

And we are starting small on purpose. For so many practical reasons, but also because who wants to scale something shallow? That won’t have the right impact? We are praying for roots before reach. We are praying for coaches, families, provision, wisdom, and protection. We are praying that God guards our motives, strengthens our family, provides the right people, and keeps this work centered on Him.

We’re not ready in the way I wish we were. But I’m finding that obedience often begins there — not complete confidence or an airtight plan, but with open hands and trembling faith.

Truly, a prayer taking shape.

And we would be honored if you would pray with us.

Pray for the boys who will be part of this soon. Pray for the families considering it now. Pray for coaches who love Jesus and love kids. Pray for provision to make this accessible to all He wants this to reach. Pray that we would move faithfully, and stop worrying about moving perfectly.

And if you feel stirred to be part of this beginning — as a prayer partner, donor, coach, community connection, or family — there is room.