Founded 91 years ago today, Alcoholics Anonymous has helped millions of people around the world recover from a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body. Happy Birthday AA from the bottom of my heart.

“Real growth comes from doing your part… and then learning to sit with discomfort instead of constantly running from it.” RFK Jr. shared this on Jocko Willink’s podcast, using the metaphor of a kid trying to force open a rosebud, it never looks right. After rehab, the line “Be still and know that I am God” from Isaiah changed how he approached life. Stop forcing everything. Do what you can, then learn to be still. n a world obsessed with constant action and fixing things immediately, this idea of stillness feels quietly powerful. The ability to sit with discomfort instead of escaping it might be one of the most important skills for real peace and growth. What’s one thing in your life right now that you’re tempted to force… but might actually need you to just sit with?

To you, it's just a Cracker Barrel parking lot. To me, it's where I gave my life to Jesus Christ. I was 21 years old. I was working at the Cracker Barrel in Tallahassee after some of the worst years of my life. I'd made mistakes. Real ones. I grew up in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, raised by a mom who worked hard and didn't accept excuses. But I made decisions that should have ended my story before it ever really started. By the grace of God, they didn't. But every day, I was carrying them. One afternoon, a church group came into the restaurant, just back from a revival. I served them their meals like I served any other table. But something happened while I was serving them. I can't fully explain it to you. The Lord spoke to me. He said, “Stop running from Me.” It knocked me back. I went to find the table, and they were all gone. I could see through their windows that they were getting on their bus, and I knew deep down that if I let them drive away, I was going to keep running. So I went outside. The last woman, just as she was stepping onto the bus, turned to me and asked, “Are you okay?” I told her, “No ma’am, I’m not okay.” I told her the Lord was telling me to stop running. That whole bus emptied out, stood with me in the parking lot of a Cracker Barrel in Tallahassee, Florida, and prayed over me right there. I gave my life to Christ that day. Right there. I still get emotional about it. Because I know what I was before that moment, and I know what He's done since. He gave me a wife who shares my faith. He gave me three sons. He gave me a career, a community, a calling I never would have dared to ask for. He took a kid from Crown Heights who’d run out of chances and gave him a life that doesn't make sense apart from grace. People ask me sometimes why I talk about it. Why I bring up the parking lot. Why I don't just keep that part private and let folks see the polished version. I'll tell you why. Because there's a young man out there right now — maybe in Tallahassee, maybe in Tampa, maybe in Miami, maybe in a small town in the Panhandle — who thinks his story is already over. Who thinks the mistakes he's made disqualify him from the life he could have had. Who thinks God doesn't want anything to do with somebody like him. I'm here to tell him: that's a lie. In life, you're not who you are at the lowest point. You're who you choose to become after. The Lord met me in a Cracker Barrel parking lot. He'll meet you wherever you are. You just have to stop running.

82 years ago today, brave American heroes like CPL Edmond Elisar of Ascension Parish, Louisiana stormed the beaches of Normandy to liberate Europe from tyranny. He was only 22 years old when he gave his life in service of our country so we could live free. God made men like Edmond rare. Our nation must never forget his sacrifice.