For the next few weeks, I am going to share some excerpts from my first book, Fear No Evil, which releases in April. If you want to pre-order the book and support the Dream Centers we are opening in our city, go to

This is from chapter two, where I talk about the crazy journey for our family from Gateway Church in D/FW to New Life Church in Colorado Springs.

First Kings 1:28-52 recounts the story of David turning over his leadership reins to his son Solomon. I’ve always been fascinated by this particular event in Scripture, because of all the sons David could have chosen, he selected one who was the product of his adulterous affair with Bathsheba. Of all his children, I wonder if Solomon was the one who was sort of pushed aside throughout his childhood because he was a tangible reminder of such a terrible season in King David’s life. But as David neared death and needed a successor to the throne, he looked directly at Solomon and in essence said, “You’re the one.”

Over the years I have developed a theory about why Solomon was selected. Despite the details surrounding his entrance into the world, I believe the reason he was tapped to lead a nation was because he had caught the DNA of his father, who had a willing heart, a willing spirit, and an honest desire to serve. Granted, David had faced his own share of challenges along the way. But in the end he would be called a man after God’s own heart. He was a leader whom God could trust.

I look at the legacy of guys like David and Solomon and feel the pull of healthy covetousness. How I crave a legacy like that. I don’t care if I am ever known for my teaching and preaching, for my talents and gifts, for my list of earthly successes, whatever they may be. If there was one thing I would need in the days immediately following the shooting, it was the manifested presence of my heavenly Father’s DNA: strength and integrity, calmness and a sense of peace, wisdom and perseverance, kindness and an insistence on the fact that though all around feels unbearably dark, hope—true hope—still abounds.

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