With summer winding down and our two oldest boys preparing to leave for college, I could feel the familiar pull of time. The family dinners, random conversations and beautiful chaos of having four teenagers under one roof won't last forever.

So, with three boys still home, still available and, somewhat remarkably, still willing to take an adventure with Dad, we did something impractical: We cashed in airline miles, called a friend for help with tickets and booked a last-minute trip to New York City to watch our Cardinals play the Yankees.

Total time in New York: less than 14 hours.

Flights were delayed. Traffic was brutal. The hotel wasn't ready. The weather was stifling. Lines into the stadium were long. The Cardinals won two of three games that series. Naturally, we attended the one they lost.

And as if that weren't painful enough, one of my own children walked out of Yankee Stadium wearing a brand-new Yankees jersey over his Cardinals shirt, sporting a fake New York accent and an enormous smile.

By almost every measure, the trip was imperfect.

And yet, later that night, after gyros in Midtown, ice cream and a long walk back to the hotel, I realized something:

It had been perfect. Let me explain.

Danny Bader is a near-death survivor and bestselling author who inspires others to live with greater joy and purpose. In 1992, a workplace accident sent 8,000 volts through his body, leaving him clinically dead for six minutes. Danny survived, but his friend Bruce did not. Grief and survivor's guilt followed before Danny began to see his second chance as a gift. Today, Danny shares how he moved from darkness to gratitude, the unexpected encounter that changed his path, and why he believes our next breath may feel automatic but is never guaranteed. We also discuss slowing down, being present and appreciating the ordinary moments we often overlook. My friends, if you've been going through the motions, this conversation is for you. You'll be inspired to live more fully, love more intentionally and ask: What will I create with the time I have left?

The first time I saw the Rocky Mountains, my dad looked over at me and asked, "What do you think?"

We were standing along the Continental Divide in Colorado, watching the sun set after a 700-mile drive. The sky was glowing. The mountains seemed impossibly large. I was ten years old, had only recently learned to walk again after the fire and was surrounded by my siblings. I took it all in, searched for the most articulate response I could muster and finally said:

"Wow."

Decades later, Beth and I took our kids to Banff, Alberta. On one of our hikes, we stopped at an overlook above a brilliant blue lake. Mountains rose high on every side. The sky was perfectly clear, the water below impossibly blue. It was all so beautiful that it hardly seemed real.

I turned to one of my kids and asked, "What do you think?"

The response? Tune in to hear.

Sandi E. Smith is remarkable proof that our past may shape us, but it does not have to define us. After enduring a nomadic childhood marked by poverty, abuse and unimaginable instability, Sandi put herself through college and law school, eventually rising to lead litigation at Apple. Her memoir, Chosen, recounts her journey from fighting to survive to opening her heart and home to eleven children in need.

Today, Sandi shares how she survived a childhood in which she was locked in a closet, forced to hunt for food and, for a time, left to live alone. She reveals how a chance encounter with a young football player led her family to welcome others into their home, how loving them helped heal wounds from her own childhood and why the people who interrupt our plans may become some of life's greatest gifts.

My friends, Sandi's story is a powerful reminder that we are more than what has happened to us. If you've ever wondered whether your pain can be redeemed, whether your choices truly matter or whether opening your heart could change a life, this conversation is for you.

As a child, I spent months in the hospital. The pain was constant and hopelessness sometimes crept in. But one of the things that broke through my fear and isolation was Mom arriving each afternoon with the mail.

Inside those envelopes were drawings, prayers, and handwritten letters from people I had never met. They arrived from across the country and around the world. And although they were sent from different parts of the globe, they all carried the same message: you are not alone.

When a person is struggling, knowing they are not alone and are being lifted up by others can make all the difference.

It did for me.

And it's the same kind of impact I see in one of my newest friends, Lillian O'Donnell. Let me explain.

Coach Jim Johnson is an award-winning high school basketball coach who spent more than 30 years transforming struggling programs into winning teams. Yet of his 428 career victories, he is best known for one unforgettable game when he gave Jason "J-Mac" McElwain, his team manager with autism, the opportunity to step onto the court and realize a dream.

Today, Jim shares how being cut from his college basketball team led him toward his true calling, what 17 straight losses taught him about perseverance, and why the best leaders focus on people before results. He also takes us back to the night J-Mac scored 20 points in just over four minutes and shares what that unforgettable moment taught him about teamwork, kindness and helping others realize their dreams.

My friends, if you're navigating a setback, wondering how to make a difference or simply need a reminder of what's possible when we believe in one another, this conversation is for you.

Somewhere between their first steps, the first day of kindergarten, and their first drive, we parents begin to realize something:

The chapter of raising our children is slowly coming to a close.

And with it come the questions.

Will they make good decisions? Did we prepare them well enough? Will they find their people….and their way?

I quietly wrestled with these questions a couple weeks ago as Beth and I drove our second-born, Patrick, to Lakeland University. You'd think this trip with the second child would be easier or less emotional.

It wasn't. Let me explain.

Kathryn Nicolai is the creator and host of the beloved podcast Nothing Much Happens, where her soothing bedtime stories help millions of adults quiet their minds and find more restful sleep. A former yoga instructor and lifelong storyteller, Kathryn has transformed her childhood practice of creating stories before bed into books, audiobooks, and a comforting community for people seeking peace in a noisy world.

Today, Kathryn shares how storytelling became a sanctuary during her childhood in Flint, Michigan, why the ordinary moments of life are often the most meaningful, and how rest can help us reconnect with ourselves. We also discuss the friend whose final words inspired Kathryn to pursue her dreams, the healing power of feeling safe and seen, and her latest book, On the Street Where You Live.

My friends, if life has felt a little too loud or you need permission to slow down, this conversation is for you. You'll leave encouraged to find joy in the ordinary and to give yourself the rest you need and deserve.

There's a part of our family's story I've never shared before.

Most people know about the fire in 1987. The gasoline explosion that nearly took my life and forever changed our family's story. It's been covered in newspaper articles, a couple of books and even a film.

But there's another fire that most may not know about. Let me explain.

Lana Wilhelm is a nurse, case manager, and caregiver advocate. After her husband suffered a stroke in 2021, Lana found herself on the other side of the healthcare system and discovered how little support exists for those caring for the people they love. Now, as the founder of CarePower Connect and host of the Both Sides of the Bed podcast, she helps caregivers feel seen, supported, and less alone.

Today, Lana shares how her husband's stroke transformed their marriage, why caregivers must allow themselves to be vulnerable, and how even the smallest acts of kindness can provide meaningful relief. She opens up about grieving the husband she once knew while learning to love and accept who he is now, and offers practical ways friends, family members, and communities can better support caregivers.

My friends, if you or someone you love is caring for others, walking through an unexpected change, or struggling to ask for help, this conversation is for you. You'll be reminded that vulnerability is a sign of strength, difficult moments can coexist with hope, and none of us are meant to carry life's heaviest burdens alone.