Climbing the cave: purpose, proximity, and the path to growth
Some conversations challenge you to take an honest look at your life and ask whether you are truly moving forward or simply repeating the same comfortable routines. My conversation with Sam Paget was one of those conversations. We talked about purpose, marriage, discipline, fatherhood, business, faith, friendships, physical fitness, and what it takes to get unstuck. Although we covered a lot of ground, one message continued rising to the surface: Your life will not change until you are willing to take action.
Sam described himself with one word: tenacious. When he sees a vision for his family, work, or relationships, he pursues it with everything he has. That tenacity did not come from always knowing the next step. In fact, much of his life has involved moving forward without seeing the entire path.
Sam grew up in a small Missouri town where life often followed a simple pattern: live, work, and repeat. Football was a major part of his identity, but when his playing days ended during his senior year, he had to confront the question many young athletes eventually face: Who am I when the uniform comes off?
He knew football was over and that he needed to find his next challenge. Although he did not consider himself the best student, he kept showing up, completed the work, and became the first person in his family to earn a college degree. That diploma represented more than an education. It was something no one could take away from him and proof that he could finish what he started.
During college, Sam worked at a lumberyard with one of his best friends. After he graduated, a manager offered him a small raise and a company phone if he would stay. Part of him appreciated the recognition, but another part knew he was capable of more. He did not yet know what the next opportunity would be, but he knew remaining where he was would mean choosing comfort over growth.
Several months later, his friend entered the medical-device industry and introduced Sam to a career he had never known existed. Sam eventually began working alongside surgical teams, helping medical professionals understand the products used during procedures. What started as an unfamiliar opportunity became a career that moved him from Missouri to Texas and eventually prepared him to build his own medical-distribution company.
That part of Sam’s story reminded me that we often expect God to show us the entire picture before we take the first step. Most of the time, He does not. One opportunity leads to another, one relationship opens a door, and one season prepares us for the next. We may not understand how the pieces fit while we are holding them, but eventually, we can look back and see the larger picture.
Sam achieved success in his career, but success did not automatically mean fulfillment. He eventually recognized that although his business life looked good from the outside, he did not feel healthy or clear internally. He described feeling like two different people—successful in one area but disconnected from himself in another.
During one of the regular life audits he and his wife share, he admitted that he did not like where he was heading. His wife did not dismiss his feelings or force him to remain in a situation simply because it was financially secure. She told him they would figure it out together.
That is what genuine partnership looks like. A healthy marriage is not built on a 50-50 arrangement where each spouse contributes only after determining whether the other has done enough. It is a 100-100 commitment. That does not mean both people will always have the same amount of energy or capacity. There will be seasons when one spouse is exhausted, grieving, sick, overwhelmed, or carrying more responsibility. During those times, the other may need to carry more of the weight.
True partnership also involves honest feedback. Love does not flatter someone while watching them move in a destructive direction. It tells the truth with compassion. Your spouse should be someone who believes in your vision, encourages your growth, and challenges you when you begin drifting from the person God is calling you to become.
Sam and his wife practice this by holding regular life audits, often around a bonfire. They talk about their marriage, finances, family, work, goals, and anything else that needs attention. The setting is less important than the intentionality. They slow down, look honestly at their lives, and ask whether their daily decisions still align with their purpose.
That practice is valuable for every marriage. Amy and I have learned that we cannot assume we know everything about each other simply because we have been married for decades. People grow, mature, heal, and change. The person you married years ago is still becoming someone new. A healthy marriage requires spouses to keep learning one another.
Sometimes Amy and I use conversation cards to help us begin discussions we may not start naturally. Some questions do not lead anywhere, but others open conversations about experiences, beliefs, fears, and dreams we have not discussed in years. Communication allows a husband and wife to adapt together instead of slowly growing apart.
Sam and his wife also began choosing a word of the year. One year, that word was “purpose.” Instead of creating another resolution that could be abandoned after one difficult week, they used that word as a continual point of alignment. They began asking questions such as: What is the purpose of this meeting? What is the purpose of this decision? What is the purpose of spending one-on-one time with our children? Does the way we are using our time support the life we say we want?
A word of the year is not about perfection. Missing a workout, having a difficult day, or making a mistake does not mean the entire goal has failed. The word functions more like the bumpers in a bowling lane—it keeps redirecting you toward the direction you chose. When you drift, you realign and continue moving.
That pursuit of purpose eventually introduced Sam to the idea of a “Misogi”—an intentionally difficult challenge that stretches you beyond what you believe you can comfortably accomplish. For Sam, that challenge became endurance running.
When he turned 30, he decided to run 30 miles even though he had almost no experience as a runner. The organized race he planned to enter was canceled, but rather than use that as an excuse, he created his own route and completed the distance near his home.
When he finished, there was no crowd waiting for him. There was no medal, finish-line celebration, free shirt, or public recognition. Only his wife was there. She told him to look around and recognize what had just happened: He said he would do something, and he did it even though no one was watching or applauding.
That moment changed something in him. He realized that discipline does not require recognition. Our character is often formed during the miles when no one is present, the mornings when no one sees us get up early, the prayers no one hears, and the choices no one celebrates.
The following year, Sam increased the challenge and entered a 50-mile trail race. Much of that race was spent alone in the woods. When the sun went down and exhaustion set in, no one was there to keep him moving. He had to remember why he started.
His “why” was waiting near the finish line. Sam wanted his young son to join him for the final steps and receive the medal. The race was not ultimately about a shirt or an accomplishment he could display. It was about showing his son what it looks like to make a commitment, endure discomfort, and finish something difficult.
We all need a strong enough reason to keep moving when the excitement disappears. Motivation may get us started, but purpose carries us through the lonely middle. If our goal is only applause, appearance, money, or recognition, we will probably stop when no one is watching. When our purpose is connected to our faith, family, health, service, or calling, we have something deeper to hold onto.
Our culture has become incredibly comfortable. We have climate-controlled homes, food nearby, endless entertainment, and technology that removes much of the inconvenience previous generations accepted as normal. Those comforts are not inherently wrong, but they can make us fragile if we never choose to do anything difficult.
Many people wait for hardship to find them instead of intentionally developing endurance. Then a flat tire, delayed flight, difficult conversation, or unexpected bill feels like a complete disaster because it is the hardest thing they have faced in months. When we regularly challenge ourselves physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, ordinary disruptions no longer have the same power over us.
Your difficult challenge does not need to be an ultramarathon. It may involve fasting, eliminating an unhealthy habit, having a conversation you have avoided, getting out of debt, returning to school, beginning counseling, repairing your marriage, reading Scripture consistently, or finally taking the first step toward the calling God has placed on your heart. The specific challenge will be different for everyone. What matters is that it stretches you and requires preparation, discipline, and dependence on God.
Sam also talked about learning to “master the middle.” Life will bring incredible highs and painful lows. A successful business deal can tempt us to believe we are unstoppable, while one failure can convince us everything is falling apart. Maturity means learning to remain grounded through both.
Mastering the middle is not the same as becoming numb or complacent. It means receiving blessings with gratitude without allowing success to control you, and facing adversity without allowing hardship to destroy you. It is being able to look backward with appreciation, forward with hope, and remain faithful in the present.
For Sam, physical fitness helps him return to that centered place. Running, lifting, and time in the sauna are not merely about appearance. They create mental clarity, develop endurance, and remind him that he can continue when life becomes uncomfortable. Exercise may not be everyone’s primary tool, but we all need healthy practices that help us regain perspective.
Getting unstuck also requires focus. Many of us spread ourselves across too many goals, projects, relationships, and obligations. We say yes to so many good things that we no longer have the energy to pursue the specific thing God has called us to do.
I experienced that in ministry. I wanted to help everyone and say yes to every opportunity. Many of those opportunities were genuinely good, but they pulled my attention away from my primary calling. John 15 teaches us about pruning. A gardener does not remove only dead or diseased branches. Sometimes healthy growth must also be cut back so the plant can produce better fruit.
The same principle applies to our schedules, habits, and relationships. Something can be good and still be wrong for your current season. A friendship may have been important during one chapter of your life but may no longer support where God is leading you. An activity may be enjoyable while consuming time that belongs to your marriage, children, health, or calling.
Pruning does not require us to treat people as disposable. It means recognizing that proximity influences direction. If you are trying to grow while surrounding yourself only with people committed to remaining exactly where they are, you will eventually feel the tension. You can love people without allowing them to determine the direction of your life.
There may also be times when you want growth for someone more than they want it for themselves. You can encourage, pray, offer resources, and extend a hand, but you cannot climb on their behalf. If you are carrying 90 percent of the effort while they contribute almost nothing, you may no longer be helping them. You may be enabling them while exhausting yourself.
We become like the people closest to us. That is why we need relationships with people who challenge us, tell us the truth, and call us higher. Find people who are further along in the area where you want to grow. Buy them coffee. Ask questions. Read their books. Listen to their conversations. Learn from their discipline. You do not need to copy their exact life, but you can learn from the principles that helped them move forward.
This is especially important for fathers. Sam explained that fatherhood changed the meaning of his work. His identity was once tied to the company he represented and the job he performed. Now he thinks more about the people he serves—his wife and sons.
There is a difference between fathering a child and becoming an engaged dad. Being a dad means more than living in the home or providing financially. Provision matters, but children also need presence. They need someone who attends their games, helps with school, plays on the floor, throws a ball, listens to their stories, and makes them feel valued.
Children may not remember the title on our business card, the car we drove, or the amount of money we made. They will remember how we made them feel. They will also learn more from what we consistently model than from what we occasionally say.
Sam shared a powerful statement: Discipline is difficult during the days, but a lack of discipline becomes difficult over the years. Getting up early, exercising, going to work, reading Scripture, managing money, and remaining present for our families can feel difficult today. But neglecting those things creates a different kind of pain later.
His sons see him leave for work, train when the weather is uncomfortable, and follow through on commitments. The goal is not to make them believe he is perfect. It is to show them what consistency looks like. Fathers, we need to ask ourselves an uncomfortable question: If my son grows up to live exactly as I live today, will I be proud of the man he becomes?
Many people talk about work-life balance, but Sam offered another helpful way to see it. Instead of expecting every area of life to receive equal attention at all times, imagine several buckets or plates: faith, family, friendships, fitness, and finances. Different seasons will require more attention in different areas.
A major work project may demand additional focus for a time. Training for a difficult physical goal may temporarily require more hours. A family vacation should allow family to receive your full presence. The key is learning to communicate, manage your time, and intentionally switch your focus.
I know what happens when those boundaries do not exist. Years ago, I took my computer on a family trip to Hawaii and allowed work to consume time that should have belonged to my family. The problem was not taking one necessary call. The problem was that my priorities were misaligned, and my family felt secondary.
Amy and I have been married for decades, and we are still learning how to communicate about boundaries. Healthy patterns were not established during our first year—or even our first 15 years. Growth took time, honesty, mistakes, repentance, and many conversations. A couple does not need to have everything perfected, but they do need to keep communicating.
That same communication matters in business, friendships, ministry, and everyday encounters. Genuine connection begins when we stop treating every conversation as a transaction. Too often, we contact people only when we need something. We ask, “How are you?” without slowing down long enough to hear the answer.
One habit that has impacted Sam is contacting people when they come to mind. Call the old friend. Text your father. Check on your grandmother. Invite someone to coffee without asking them for anything. Reach out simply because the person matters.
Men especially need to become more comfortable expressing love and appreciation to other men. Telling a friend you love him is not weakness. Correcting him when he begins moving in a destructive direction can also be an act of love. Real friendship does not provide endless applause while someone ruins his life. It offers encouragement when he is moving forward and honest correction when he begins drifting.
Encouragement is powerful. Kingdom Chaos has involved risk, uncertainty, and fear for Amy and me. Fear has not controlled us, but that does not mean we never experience it. During difficult moments, an encouraging text or conversation has helped remind us why we started. You may never know how much someone needs the words God has placed on your heart. If a person comes to mind, reach out.
Sam’s life and business have also been shaped by a desire to create an impact. He wants his company to develop better people, not merely generate higher numbers. He encourages employees to build relationships, volunteer, read, grow, and approach people authentically. His belief is that healthier people will ultimately produce healthier results.
That principle connects deeply with what we are building through Kingdom Chaos. When Amy and I stepped into this ministry, I wanted our focus to remain on two things: Jesus and people. Whether the ministry eventually generates significant income or we struggle financially, neither extreme can be allowed to change that purpose. The moment money becomes more important than Christ and the people He has called us to serve, we have lost our direction.
Maybe you feel stuck today. You may feel trapped in your hometown, career, habits, physical condition, relationships, or mindset. You may look at the distance between where you are and where you want to be and feel overwhelmed.
You do not need to change everything today. You only need to take the first faithful step. Read one chapter. Walk one mile. Make one phone call. Submit one application. Schedule one counseling appointment. Pray one honest prayer. Have one difficult conversation. Turn off the game, get off the couch, and take action.
Small steps are still steps. There may not be a clear finish line, and no one may applaud you for a long time. But if you continue moving, you will eventually look around and realize you are no longer surrounded by the same walls that once made you feel trapped.
Do not wait for someone else to rescue you from a life you know needs to change. Ask God for wisdom, surround yourself with people who will strengthen your faith and character, and begin climbing. You cannot control every circumstance, but you can decide whether you will remain stuck.
Say what you are going to do, understand why it matters, and then take the first step.
Listen to: Climbing The Cave: Purpose, Proximity, and the Path to Growth