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Pride shows up in many forms. I'm not talking about being proud of family or achievements. I mean the kind of pride that says, I'm better than you , more important than you , or step aside—I'm in control . Grace, on the other hand, is its opposite: calm, courteous, and kind even when it's not easy.   Picture this: you're driving in traffic. Someone wants into your lane. Do you let them in (grace)  or tighten your grip on control (pride) ? Often, it depends on how your day is going.   A friend recently shared her story. She was rushing home and stuck behind a slow driver. When she tried to pass, the driver sped up. She tried again, with the same result. Frustrated, she floored it, passed, and turned into her neighborhood. To her surprise, the other car followed her. They both exchanged ugly words. My friend threatened to call the police, then went inside, ashamed.   Later, still feeling guilty, she saw the car parked a few houses down. Wanting to make peace, she decided to show grace and offer an apology. But when she knocked, the woman's husband answered. He said his wife had just received a serious cancer diagnosis and was resting before the kids got home. She had told him about the incident.   My friend walked back to her car, devastated.   Isn't it remarkable how pride can close our eyes to others' pain? When we feel anxious or rushed, pride often takes the wheel. But when we slow down, grace has a chance to lead.   That day reminded her and me that we always have a choice. I've had moments where I've acted out of pride, only to wonder later what someone else might have been going through. It's humbling.   In every interaction, we can choose pride or grace. One will isolate. The other heals.   Watch for the blind spots.   Think you’ve got it all figured out? 🤔 Your blind spots might have other plans. Get copy today. 📚 http:// tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

I recently spoke with a gentleman caught in a painful conflict with his wife. She was upset over something he felt was harmless, a misunderstanding, in his view, with no malicious intent. But when she confronted him, he exploded. His anger was sharp, relentless, and justified in his mind. He believed she had lied, and no matter how she explained, he wouldn't listen. He needed to be right.   When he called me afterward, he was still furious. I listened as he repeated the story, still convinced of betrayal. But beneath his fury, I could hear something else: pain. And when we revisited the conversation the next day, the storm had settled enough for him to admit that maybe he had misunderstood her.   But sadness? That was still off-limits.   He shared that the argument stirred memories of his father, memories rooted in rejection and emotional pain. As a teenager, sadness had no place. Crying was a weakness. Anger, on the other hand, gave him power. It let him strike out rather than feel struck. Sadness made him feel vulnerable; anger made him feel strong.   That's when we discussed a truth that has changed many lives, including mine: anger is a secondary emotion. It doesn't arise on its own. Deeper emotions, such as fear, hurt, shame, guilt, or sadness, fuel it. However, those emotions are often suppressed, especially when we've learned early on that they're dangerous to express.   It's easy to react to someone's anger with defensiveness or judgment. What's harder and far more healing is to pause and ask, where is the pain?   Whenever I feel anger rise in me or witness it in someone else, I now slow things down and look past the words, past the heat, and ask: What is the pain that's hiding beneath this?   More often than not, in my past, I would choose anger, not sadness.   Now, I recognize the danger of anger and want to react from the primary emotion, not the secondary one.   Watch for the blind spots. Think you’ve got it all figured out? 🤔 Your blind spots might have other plans. Get copy today. 📚 http:// tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

Yesterday was Father’s Day. You’ve been gone now for over 30 years, and I still miss you. The ache has softened over time, but the love and gratitude remain as strong as ever. Some of my fondest memories are of us when I was small. We were inseparable. I remember curling up in your lap, it was the safest place in the world. I used to wonder how I would ever survive if I lost you. I wasn’t sure life could go on without you in it. I loved it when I got to go to work with you. You gave me the best work ethic which has carried me into many successful careers. Though your education was limited, your wisdom ran deep. You often denied me what I thought I wanted, and only now do I realize how frequently you were right. You emphasized the importance of education, and I’m grateful you did. I know it hurt you when I joined the Marines. Before I left, you said, “Jerry, we don’t want no heroes, we just want you back.” I carried those words with me every single day of those 13 months. Later, I learned how hard that season was for you and Mom. We didn’t always see eye to eye, but I came to understand what you expected of me and, more importantly, why. You weren’t always easy, but you were fair, and you were constant. You gave everything to our family. I’ll never fully know the sacrifices you made. I hope I have told you enough, but in case I haven’t, thank you. I could never have become the man I am without your quiet strength and steady love. We didn’t say “I love you” in words, but I always felt it. It was there, woven into your actions, hidden but true. Your legacy lives on, primarily through the laughter of my boys as we recall the silly games you made up with them. You were their hero, too. What an incredible dad you were. “Thank you” will never be enough. I love you, and I miss you more than words can say. Happy Father’s Day,   Think you’ve got it all figured out? 🤔 Your blind spots might have other plans. Get copy today. 📚 http:// tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

Poverty in relationships isn't about money; it's about the absence of trust, empathy, and meaningful connection. It manifests as emotional distance, a lack of vulnerability, and unspoken resentment. True relational wealth doesn't come from perfection but from honesty, care, and consistent effort.   I've often asked parents, spouses, employees, friends, and leaders to evaluate how well they're doing in their relationship roles. I often ask, "Could you be better?"  Everyone says yes. Isn't it fascinating that even knowing this, we often live in relationship poverty without planning to improve?   We track our finances, upgrade our homes, and plan for the future. However, when it comes to relationships, the most essential part of our lives—it is easy to overlook them. Initially we start by putting our best foot forward. But over time, old habits and emotional fatigue creep in. It becomes easier to blame others and point out their flaws, letting ourselves off the hook. But blame is just a way to avoid the real work of growth and change.   If your relationship feels stuck in poverty or just “ ordinary ,” what small shift could move it one step closer to something extraordinary? I’ve walked through seasons where I settled for silence and disconnection, where quiet frustration became my norm. I survived, but I wasn’t growing. That’s a chapter I’m not willing to repeat.   I have found the best place to start is with myself. I can examine my blind spots and ask: What would a better version of me bring to this relationship?  If I want to be a better spouse, parent, friend, or coworker, what am I willing to change or improve in myself?   One question I often ask myself is: What do I want others to say about how I showed up in their lives? That answer points me forward. Because whether I like it or not, I am the author of the story others tell about me.   I choose to stop living in relational poverty and start building something I am proud to be a part of.   Watch for the blind spots.   👀 Don’t wait to uncover what you don’t know you don’t know! 💡 Blind Spots in Relationships,  get your copy today,  http://tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

Last Sunday was Pentecost, a time that reminded me of the Holy Spirit’s arrival and power. It also reminded me the Fruit of the Spirit, described in Galatians 5, a set of nine virtues that grow in us through the work of the Holy Spirit: Love Joy Peace Patience Kindness Goodness Faithfulness Gentleness  And Self-control Years ago, I sat in a Sunday school class where we were asked to compare our spiritual knowledge to educational levels, from pre-K to PhD. Most of us placed ourselves in the lower grades, a humbling reminder of how far we had to grow. That memory inspired me to consider: What if we rated ourselves from 1 to 10 on each of these fruits? What might that reveal? Rating myself invites honest self-examination. I often assume I’m doing “fine,” but growth begins when I admit where I’m not. Self-rating reveals spiritual and relational blind spots. “What I don’t know, I don’t know, can keep me stuck. But what I see, I can surrender and shape.” If I rate myself low in patience or self-control, I could respond with shame. But instead, I see it as a starting point. It shifts my mindset from perfection to transformation. Rather than vague intentions like “I want to be a better person,”  I can set focused goals: “I want to grow from a 3 to a 5 in gentleness by practicing how I respond when I feel misunderstood.” As I cultivate these fruits, I’ve noticed: More peace in my relationships Greater clarity in emotional responses A softer heart, toward others  and myself And Influence through Christlike presence Self-rating is not about judgment. It's a tool for deepening my walk with God and becoming more of who I was created to be. Watch for the blind spots.   👀 Don’t wait to uncover what you don’t know you don’t know! 💡 Blind Spots in Relationships,  get your copy today,  http://tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

Growing up, being right felt like a matter of survival. When I was wrong, I felt embarrassed, even ashamed. Being right gave me a sense of safety, control, and confidence. But looking back, I can see how distorted that thinking was. There were times I was so sure of myself, yet others may have seen the truth and let me pass, not out of agreement, but out of grace. There was a time when I would fight hard to be right, even if it cost me peace, connection, or the very relationship I wanted to protect. I believed being correct made me strong, respectable, even lovable. But over time, I’ve learned being right isn’t the same as being wise. In many conversations, I wasn’t understanding, and I was listening to correct. I was focused on proving my point and needed to win. But in doing so, I often left the other person feeling dismissed, misunderstood, or unloved. I may have won the argument, but I lost something far more important: trust, intimacy, and emotional safety. It takes strength to admit when I’m wrong. But it takes even more strength to let go of needing to be right when it no longer serves the relationship. Sometimes, the facts matter less than how someone feels. It’s not always about correcting their perspective; it’s about hearing their heart. Relationships aren’t competitions. They’re partnerships. If one of us must win, then both of us lose. Humility invites connection. It says, “I care more about us  than about proving myself.” That’s where healing happens, in honesty, vulnerability, and grace. Now, when tension arises, I ask myself: Do I want to be right, or do I want to be in the right relationship?  That simple question helps me pause, soften, and choose curiosity over control. Because at the end of the day, people won’t remember if I was right. They’ll remember how I made them feel. And these days, when the people I love feel heard, respected, and right, I feel like I’ve truly won. I choose wisdom over being right. Watch for the blind spots. 👀 Don’t wait to uncover what you don’t know you don’t know! 💡 Blind Spots in Relationships,  get your copy today,  http://tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

Have you ever heard something about yourself that wasn't exactly flattering?  I have, and for years, tried to rationalize, minimize, or dismiss it. Growing up with a deep sense of shame made negative feedback feel like a personal attack. It stung more than I wanted to admit. But over time, I've come to see those moments differently. Today, I view feedback, even the hard-to-hear kind, as one of the most powerful tools for growth. I've learned to lean in with curiosity, not defensiveness. If someone is courageous enough to tell me how they experience me, that's a gift. It gives me the chance to become a better version of myself. Relationships are shaped not just by how we feel about others but by how we make them feel. And often, I've been unaware of how my words, tone, or energy affected those around me. Without realizing it, I could be pushing someone away, not out of malice, but simply because of unawareness. In conversations and workshops, I often ask a question: "What do you hope people say about you when they are talking to your friends and family?" The responses are always inspiring: "I like being around her." "I feel good about myself when I'm with him." "I've learned so much from her." "His humor is contagious." "I'd want her on my team." Then I ask the real kicker: "Who writes the story they use to talk about you?" That's when it clicks; "we do."  People talk about us based on their experience of  us. We write the script they use. That can be a humbling realization. It's also incredibly empowering. If someone's story about me isn't the one I want to be told, I can rewrite it. I can show up differently, speak more kindly, and listen more openly. Knowing now who writes my script others use to talk about me, I can reshape how I'm remembered, starting today. Watch for the blind spots.   Get a copy of Blind Spots in Relationships. Discover the hidden behavior that could be holding you back from the relationships you desire. http://tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

Have you ever found yourself spinning a story in your head about a friend, a partner, or a coworker without ever saying a word out loud?  I know I have. When I feel anxious, confused, or unsettled, my mind can craft entire narratives and the more I keep those stories to myself, the more real they begin to feel. But here’s the problem : if I don’t share what I’m thinking, how can anyone possibly understand where I’m coming from?   I often work with couples who are miles apart emotionally, not because of what’s said but because of what is unsaid . They sit across from each other, both confused, hurt, or frustrated. When I ask, “What story are you telling yourself right now?” They look puzzled. “What story?”  they ask. And yet, as we talk, the story always emerges: “He must not care,” “She’s pulling away,” “They’re mad at me.”   The truth is we all tell ourselves stories. But when we don’t verify those stories. When we don’t share our story or when we don’t ask the other to clarify or open up, we act on assumptions. Assumptions are often the cause of problems.   If I think someone is angry with me, I may withdraw or get defensive. But maybe they are not angry at all; perhaps they are tired, distracted, or hurting about something else entirely. If I never ask, I never find out. And that gap between us can widen, quietly but powerfully, into real distance.   This happens in marriages, families, offices, churches, and friendships.   So, I’ve learned to ask better questions:   — What story am I telling myself right now?   —What story are you telling yourself?     — What are we not talking about that we need to talk about?   Healthy relationships are built on clarity, not mind-reading. When I stop assuming and start sharing, something beautiful happens, and I connect.   The story in my head might not be the whole truth. It deserves to be checked out with care, curiosity, and a desire for connection.   Watch for the blind spots. Great leaders understand their blind spots—do you? Blind Spots in Relationships  is your guide to unlocking self-awareness and building stronger connections. 💡 Get a copy today. 📚 http:// tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

In the early 1990s, our church had just moved into a brand-new building.  Around the same time, a nearby church burned down. Its members, rather than rebuild, joined our congregation. That’s how I met JD, someone I will never forget. JD wasn’t someone you’d overlook, but he was someone I had underestimated.   We formed a mixed slow-pitch softball team, not a great team, but a fun one. JD, who couldn’t run fast or throw far, became our pitcher. Ironically, he was one of our best players. We weren’t playing for trophies; we were playing for laughs. JD fit right in.   JD was…different. He wore a tie to church every Sunday, and that tie wore breakfast like a badge, eggs, jelly, honey, and mystery stains. He was playful, joyful, and incredibly welcoming. Before the service began, he’d walk around greeting people with a radiant smile and a handshake full of life.   One Sunday, I was at the back of the sanctuary, joking with my friend Bert. We were laughing when he suddenly got quiet and asked, “I wonder why God put JD in my life.”   The question hit me like a thunderclap. My laughter died. In that instant, a flood of emotions overtook me: shock, guilt, shame, humility. How could I have missed it?  I had judged JD for his quirks and dismissed him as odd when, in truth, he was teaching me something vital: compassion.   That moment cracked open a blind spot I didn’t know I had. My own heart had been narrowing, guarded by a quiet arrogance. JD, in his messy tie and unfiltered kindness, had been living the Gospel far better than I was.   Since that day, I’ve carried his memory with me, especially when I feel tempted to judge. Every time I encounter someone I don’t understand, I try to stop and ask, “Why did God put this person in my life, and who am I to judge”?   Two powerful questions changed the way I see and love others.   Watch for the blind spots .     Great leaders understand their blind spots—do you? Blind Spots in Relationships  is your guide to unlocking self-awareness and building stronger connections. 💡 Get a copy today. 📚 http:// tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

Some compliments are more than words; they're treasures etched into our memory. When someone shows up for us in a moment of need, offers a kind word, or believes in us when we don't believe in ourselves, that gratitude stays alive. Those kinds of compliments don't fade. They become part of our story. They lift our spirits years later, just as they did the day they were spoken. They remind us of the power of kindness, of being seen, of being valued. A heartfelt compliment is a gift that never grows old. It's a way of saying, "I still remember what you did. I still carry that moment with me." Compliments like: I'll never forget how stunning you looked on our wedding day. You took my breath away. I mentioned your presentation at the last team meeting to our president, which was outstanding. You nailed the key points. That romantic dinner you cooked for our anniversary last year was delicious. It was such a special night. Your positive attitude always brightens the office. You're such a pleasure to work with, and it makes the days better. I was telling your mom about your incredible sense of humor. You always know how to make me laugh, even on my worst days. It has been six months now. Thank you, Dad, for being there during my legal battle. You are always there when I need you most. Your support during that challenging time meant the world to me. Growing up with you, I've always admired your kindness and how you care for others. You're a fantastic sister and friend. We talked about you at the reunion, how your smile lights up our home, and how your laughter brings so much joy into our lives. The kids and I talked last night about what an incredible listener you are. We appreciate how you're always there to support us. Is there someone whose kindness deserves to be spoken again? The beauty of a genuine compliment is this: it can make someone's day, even years after it was first earned. Watch for the blind spots. 📌 Save it. 🗣️ Share it. Comment. Great leaders understand their blind spots—do you? Blind Spots in Relationships is your guide to unlocking self-awareness and building stronger connections. Get a copy today. 📚 http:// tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp #echoes   #blindspots   #relationships   #compliments   #watchthis   #goodjob   #bettereveryday

I have found it is easy to fall into the habit of “self-beating-up.”  The danger of automatic negative self-talk is that saying it long enough can lead to believing it.   Negative self-talk sounds like:   “Yeah, but I...”   “If only I had…”   “I’m such a failure.”   “I’ll never get it right.”   These statements may seem harmless initially, but they slowly carve deep grooves in my thinking, creating blind spots and limiting beliefs. Before long, I was trapped in self-doubt, not even realizing that I’d internalized other people’s criticisms as my truth.   It’s like the story of the frog in the boiling pot; if I stay too long in negativity, I don’t notice how much damage it’s doing until it’s too late.   Tough days are not the problem. They’re the training ground. Without them, I wouldn’t appreciate the good ones or feel the pride that comes from growth and resilience.   But as Jim Rohn wisely said, “It’s not what happens—it’s what you do about it.”   So, how do we stop majoring on your minuses?   Start by identifying 100 good things about yourself. Yes—100. Write them down. Don’t stop at ten. Keep going. You’ll be amazed at what comes to light when you go beyond the surface.   Then, create a mantra that affirms who you are and who you are becoming. A mantra is a short, powerful statement you can repeat, especially when those old doubts try to creep back in. Think of it as a breath prayer, something you whisper to yourself when you feel overwhelmed.   For example:   “I am strong, wise, and full of purpose.”   “I am courageous, resilient, and kind.”   “I face the wind—and rise.”   When we fill our minds with enough truth, lies lose their power. Say it often, believe it and live it daily.   Take stock of the good. Leave the “self-beating-up”  behind. And every day, choose to build a better you.   Watch for the blind spots.   👀 Discover how to uncover what you don’t know you don’t know with my book Blind Spots in Relationships, get it today, http://tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

During my tour of Vietnam, I remember after each search and destroy operation, we would gather on the flight deck of the USS Okinawa , a helicopter carrier, for a solemn ceremony. One by one, the names of the fallen were read aloud by the Chaplin. As he spoke each name, a fellow Marine from their squad would step forward with precision and purpose. He would march to a designated spot on the deck, remove his helmet, and place it carefully among a growing formation of helmets, each representing a Marine who didn't return to the ship. No speeches. No music. Just silence, reverence, and the weight of sacrifice.   It was quiet. Sacred. It was a powerful tribute to those who gave everything.   Over time, Memorial Day has signaled the beginning of summer, sales, barbecues, and long weekends. But its true meaning runs much deeper.   Memorial Day is a day of remembrance. It exists to honor the men and women of the U.S. military who died in service to our country. Not veterans in general, not those currently serving, but specifically those who never made it home.   These were sons and daughters, husbands and wives, neighbors and friends. They raised their right hands, took an oath, and gave their lives in defense of ideals bigger than themselves. Whether they died on foreign soil, in training accidents, or in battles most of us will never fully understand, their sacrifice was real and final.   Memorial Day is not about politics or war. It's about people, ordinary Americans who made the ultimate sacrifice.   So yes, let's enjoy our weekend. Gather with loved ones. But please, also take a moment to pause. Visit a cemetery. Tell your children what this day is for. Fly a flag. Speak the names of the fallen if you know them.   The freedoms we enjoy were bought by those who gave it all.   Let’s never forget. 👀 Discover how to uncover what you don’t know you don’t know with my book Blind Spots in Relationships, get it today, http://tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp