ACR Developer, 609 7th Street (2026)

13/06/2026

I clapped for my daughter at her basketball game this morning, and if I’m being honest, it was hard to be all the way there.

I was running on about four hours of sleep. I’d been up until five in the morning, head buried in my business, trying to figure out how to build something steadier, something with fewer valleys and a little more solid ground under it. And in an hour, I’m changing clothes and heading to a funeral.

That’s the whole morning. A gym full of kids and squeaky shoes, then a room full of people saying goodbye. Joy and grief, an hour apart, on no sleep.

I don’t have a clean lesson for that. I’m just living it, like everybody else.

But somewhere between the game and the funeral, sitting in my car, it hit me why I push the way I do, why I stay up too late, why I keep chasing consistency like my life depends on it. It’s not really about the business. It’s about the little girl I was clapping for this morning, and the kind of life I want to give her.

Some days ask you to hold it all at once, the cheering and the mourning, the exhaustion and the reason you keep going.

So that’s where I am today. Tired, a little heavy, grateful, and still moving.

12/06/2026

I love this work, I really do! I love it more than I know how to say.

Today was a day full of small fixes, a rare sign-in bug, a security wall blocking real customers along with the bad guys, money that needed to move, and a few people who needed help getting back into their accounts. To most people, that reads like a boring list.

Not to me. To me, every line on that list is a person, somebody’s savings, somebody checking on their money after a long day, somebody counting on all of it to just work.

When your software touches people’s money, you’re not in the technology business, you’re in the trust business. And trust isn’t won on launch day, trust is won on an ordinary afternoon, in the small things handled quickly and quietly before anybody ever feels them.

Nothing I did today will make a highlight reel. Nobody cheers for the bug that never reaches them, and that’s fine by me.

Because tonight, people are moving through that platform like nothing ever happened, signing in, checking their accounts, going on about their lives. They’ll never know my name, and they don’t need to.

There’s no better feeling than watching something you take care of just run, and run, and run.

I got to do that today.

Man, I love this work!

12/06/2026

I barely worked yesterday.

Not because I didn’t try. In the morning, I sat down planning to push through. I love what I do. I figured the work would carry me.

It didn’t. Not at first.

I read the same lines over and over without taking any of them in. Started one thing, drifted, came back, started another. My mind kept leaving the screen and going to my friend. An hour disappeared. Then another.

Nobody tells you that part about grief. It doesn’t always look like crying. Sometimes it looks like four or five hours of sitting in front of work you normally love and not being able to touch it.

I didn’t force it. I just stayed in the chair.

And somewhere in the afternoon, it finally gave. The work let me in. I think loving it is the only reason it ever did. For a little while, my mind went quiet.

I used to think grieving meant stopping everything. Today taught me it looks more like working at half strength. Losing whole hours. Getting one real thing done and letting that be enough.

If a hard season has you moving slow right now, you’re not broken. You’re carrying something heavy, and heavy things slow a person down.

Today, I got to sit back down and try again.

Today, was a bit easier.

10/06/2026

This morning I found out that one of my closest friends is gone.

His name was Anthony. He was my very first roommate in college.

We used to stay up late so many nights in that dorm room, talking about life, about God, about the afterlife. About what was next and who we wanted to become. We talked about our struggles out loud to each other before either of us knew how heavy life would actually get.

He got me through a lot of hard nights. I came into college carrying anger and depression I didn’t know what to do with, and Anthony sat with me through all of it. He was a psych major, and he used to tell me straight that I was dealing with depression and needed to face it. I wouldn’t listen back then. Maybe if I had, it would have saved me years of heartache and wrong roads. That was just who he was. Even while carrying his own battle, he was trying to carry me through mine.

For more than fifteen years he fought a sickness that broke the hearts of the people closest to him. For the last several years he and I went back and forth about faith and family. We spoke 2 weeks ago on our monthly call to each other. We spoke of finding a different road, because we were both afraid of a morning exactly like this one.

This morning came anyway. And I’m sad in a way I don’t have words for yet.

But Anthony, here’s the one thing holding me up today. You’re not struggling anymore. You’re not hurting anymore!

I’m sad to see you go, brother. But I am so glad I got to tell you, while you were still here, that you were loved way more than you ever knew, thought, or imagined. I loved our monthly calls with one another because we always got to talk about how you still talk with Jesus. The enemy may have won the battle while you here, but he did not win the war! I have peace in knowing to whom you belonged to!

If you’re battling a sickness of your own right now, please don’t battle it alone and please don’t battle it quietly. Somebody loves you way more than you know. Reach out to them today.

Rest easy, Anthony. Play a tune with Jesus for me.

I’ll see you again, brother.

10/06/2026

At eleven years old, I fell in love with building software.

But I was also a natural athlete. And like a lot of kids, I leaned into the thing I was already good at. So I chased sports, and I gave it everything.

Then I tore my ACL as a teenager. Years later, just when I thought I had another shot, I tore my pec at twenty-three. That was the end of that dream.

I won’t pretend it didn’t break my heart.

For a while after that, I drifted. I wasn’t sure what to do with myself now that the thing I had built my whole identity on was gone.

I didn’t find my way back to software until I was thirty-one. Twenty years after that eleven-year-old first fell in love with it.

I used to think I was late. That I had wasted my best years on a dream that ended on a training table.

Now I think some loves just wait for you. They sit quietly in the background until the day you finally need them, and then they hand you a whole new life.

Twenty years late, and right on time.

09/06/2026

Lately I cry more than I used to.

Not from sadness. From gratitude. It rises up out of nowhere and takes over, usually when I start remembering the hard parts. The heartache. The years I wasn’t sure I’d make it through.

I just finished watching Creed II. I’ve seen it more times than I can count, and I still can’t get through it with dry eyes.

There’s a moment in the last round of his fight with Drago. He’s been knocked down, beaten up, everything in the world stacked against him. And right when he’s got nothing left, that old Rocky theme starts to play.

That’s the part that gets me every single time.

Because I know that feeling. Getting back up while the whole world bets you won’t. Fighting with all the cards stacked against you and somehow still clawing your way to the top. Coming out standing when by every count you should have stayed down.

I used to wish I could forget some of those seasons. Now I hold onto them.

I don’t cry because any of it was easy. I cry because it wasn’t, and I’m still here.

You don’t get to the gratitude without first walking through the thing that nearly broke you.

I’m not grateful in spite of the pain. I’m grateful because of it.

So if you catch me with wet eyes lately, I’m alright. It’s not sadness. It’s just gratitude finally catching up with me, for all of it, even the parts that hurt.

09/06/2026

Most of the work that matters happens where no one is watching.

The late nights. The early mornings. The thing you fixed that nobody will ever know was broken.

For a long time I thought the goal was to be seen.

I’m starting to believe the goal is just to be faithful. Faithful with the small thing, the quiet thing, the thing that has no audience yet.

There were seasons I kept building with no proof any of it would work. No clients. No applause. Just a quiet sense that I was supposed to keep going.

You don’t get to skip those seasons.

You don’t harvest in a field you never planted in.

So if you’re in the unseen part right now, the part before the results, before anyone claps, hear me. It counts.

The hidden work is still work.

Keep building.

02/06/2026

I see a lot of service shops in West Texas putting their entire budget into Local Services Ads. They love the green checkmark and the pay per lead model. It feels safe. But if you look at the actual ROI over twelve months, the math starts to shift.

LSAs are becoming a race to the bottom. You are stacked against ten other guys in a list. The customer usually calls the first three names and picks the cheapest one. That is a hard way to run a business when your overhead is rising.

I prefer traditional Search ads for long term growth. With Search, I can control the message. I can show a homeowner why your HVAC tech is better than the guy charging half the price. I am not just buying a lead. I am building a brand.

In my experience, Search leads often close at a higher ticket. The customer is sold on the company before they even pick up the phone. LSAs are fine for filler, but Search is where the real profit is made.

Are you seeing your LSA lead costs go up lately?

ACR Developer

13/06/2026

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