DIY Garage Shelf Project Happens Today

Stardate 04.15.2026

Today is project day.

I’m genuinely excited to build a fold-down shelf in the garage using a leftover panel from our basement project. The space is already cleared. The vision is set. And the heavy-duty hinges are scheduled to arrive sometime this afternoon.

It’s amazing how motivation grows when preparation is already in place.

This entire project will come in under fifty dollars. I’m using heavy-duty folding shelf brackets that lock when extended, paired with a 12-inch piano hinge across the center for added strength and stability. When I’m finished using it, the table will fold down neatly against the wall and disappear from view.

Simple. Functional. Purposeful.

And yet, the most challenging part of this whole project has nothing to do with tools, hinges, or hardware.

The hardest part is convincing myself that I’m capable of doing it.

That realization stopped me in my tracks this morning.

For years, I’ve hesitated to start projects like this because of a quiet voice that whispers, “You don’t know enough. You’ll mess it up. This is for people who are more skilled than you.”

But that voice is losing its influence.

I’m becoming a firm believer in the power of one-percent improvement. Not dramatic leaps. Not overnight mastery. Just steady progress and the willingness to begin.

I’ve noticed something: the line between success and failure is often thinner than we think. Success doesn’t belong to the most talented. It belongs to the ones who stay in the game long enough to learn.

I no longer fear failure the way I once did. If I measure the board wrong, I’ll adjust. If I need to reposition a hinge, I’ll fix it. If it doesn’t work the first time, I’ll figure it out.

Because staying in the process is what matters.

Today’s shelf is more than a garage project. It’s a small act of defiance against self-limiting beliefs. It’s proof that I can start something new without waiting to feel perfectly prepared.

“Commit your work to the Lord, and your plans will be established.” — Proverbs 16:3

Sometimes committing the work simply means picking up the drill and beginning.

Once the rebate check from our basement shelving project arrives, I plan to invest in a few power tools for an even bigger dream project that’s coming soon. One step leads to another. One project builds confidence for the next.

That’s how growth really happens.

Is there something you’ve been putting off because you’re not sure you can do it?

A project. A conversation. A change you’ve been meaning to make?

Why not begin today?

You don’t have to know everything. You just have to start.

Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

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Captain’s Addendum

Spock: “Captain, the probability of success increases significantly once the project is actually started.”
Bones: “Funny how that works. Hard to finish something you never begin, isn’t it?”

I’m learning that courage often looks like taking the first small step before I feel fully ready. One percent better. One project at a time.

Grateful for the chance to build, to learn, and to grow today.

Taxes are Complete and Accepted

Stardate 04.14.2026

I came home from my day job yesterday and told my wife I needed to lock myself in my home office until the taxes were done.

She smiled, made me dinner, and gave me the space to do what needed to be done.

I sat down at my laptop with one goal: finish this in one sitting.

No distractions. No wandering thoughts. No “I’ll do it later.”

Just me, the screen, and the quiet determination to close a loop that had been hanging open for too long.

When the confirmation came through that both the federal and state returns were accepted, I felt something deeper than relief. I felt lighter. Clearer. As if mental shelf space had been freed up for better things.

There is a unique peace that comes from doing what is hard and necessary.

And now that this assignment is complete, my attention turns to something creative and life-giving: building a DIY folding workbench for the garage. That’s the reward. Not because I “earned” fun, but because finishing responsibilities creates room for joy.

That’s a lesson I’m still learning.

Here’s the good news for anyone who believes they can’t take on new projects because life feels overwhelming: if I can do this, anyone can.

For a long time, my own thoughts were my biggest obstacle. Self-limiting beliefs whispered that tasks were bigger than they really were. That I didn’t have the focus. That I would procrastinate. That I would mess it up.

But something has been changing.

My brain is slowly becoming an ally instead of an adversary.

Whether it’s filing taxes, building cabinets, or designing a folding workbench, the process is surprisingly the same: sit down, begin, and keep going until it’s done.

No drama. No overthinking. Just steady movement.

I’ll admit — this tax deadline was closer than I would prefer. That’s part of the growth still in progress. I’m learning to give myself more margin, more breathing room, more time to complete important things without the pressure of the clock ticking loudly in my ear.

That’s where the “one percent better” comes in.

Not perfection. Progress.

One small adjustment at a time.

This Saturday, after my morning cardio tennis workout, I’ll be in the garage building that folding workbench. And I’ll enjoy it more because I know I didn’t ignore what needed to be done first.

There is a rhythm to a healthy life:

Responsibility.
Relief.
Reward.

And it starts by doing the next right thing in front of you.

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”— Galatians 6:9

Sometimes “doing good” looks less like grand gestures and more like finishing your taxes.

Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

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Captain’s Addendum

Spock: “Captain, it appears the completion of administrative duties has resulted in a notable increase in morale.”
Bones: “Imagine that, Spock. Turns out doing what you’ve been avoiding feels better than avoiding it.”

I’m learning that peace often waits on the other side of the tasks I don’t feel like doing. One percent better, one finished responsibility at a time.

Mission Log complete.

Grateful for another day to grow, to build, and to keep moving forward.

Preparations Underway for the Next Project

Stardate 04.13.2026

Now that the basement shelf project is complete, my mind is already building something new for our one-car garage.

That project required four large exterior panels, but I only needed three. Because I combined two kits, I ended up with a bonus piece. Instead of letting it sit in the corner, I have a plan. I’m going to add hinges and mount it to one of the side walls. When folded down, it will create a generous workspace. When folded up, it will disappear neatly against the wall.

Little by little, the garage is turning into a place where I can step in and create when time allows. A quiet corner. A simple man cave. A place to work with my hands and clear my mind.

But the real lesson forming in me right now isn’t about hinges or panels.

It’s about time.

I’ve heard friends say, “I just don’t have any free time.” If you’re raising a family, I understand that completely. If you’re in my age group and finding yourself in retirement years, it can still feel strangely true. The concept of “free time” can feel foreign, even when the calendar looks open.

What I’m learning is that free time doesn’t appear. It has to be gently created.

I’m teaching my brain to fine-tune each day so small pockets of usable time begin to show up. Nothing dramatic. Nothing overwhelming. Just small adjustments that slowly make room for the things that matter.

So far, so good.

If you want to become more efficient with your time, the key is to make very small adjustments. Too much change too quickly creates internal resistance. Your own brain will push back if it feels like its familiar routine is under attack.

That lesson became very clear to me this week.

While I was focused on the shelf project and learning to work with hinges, something quietly slipped under the radar: tax preparation. I’m honestly surprised to realize I’m now only two days away from filing my federal and state returns.

So today, I’m dedicating my created “free time” to finishing and filing those returns.

And here’s the reward: once they’re done, I’ve already scheduled a block of time on my calendar to design the fold-down work table for the garage.

My brain is cooperating now. It no longer sees hinges as a threat. The comfort zone has expanded. What once felt unfamiliar now feels possible. And because of that, it’s giving me permission to try something new.

Little by little, I’m noticing that growth doesn’t happen by force. It happens by gentle, steady permission.

“For God is not a God of confusion but of peace.” — 1 Corinthians 14:33

Peace shows up when we stop trying to rush change and start allowing it to unfold one small step at a time.

Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

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Captain’s Addendum

Spock: “Captain, it appears you are not managing time. You are managing resistance.”

Bones: “He’s right, Michael. You’re not fighting your brain anymore… you’re working with it.”

And that’s exactly what this season feels like. Not pushing harder. Not doing more. Just making small, peaceful adjustments that open the door for steady progress.

Mission Log complete.

Grateful for the quiet art of making room for what matters.

Honey Do List Basement Project Complete

Stardate 04.12.2026

If I had to summarize my high school wood shop experience in one word, it would be incomplete.

Every assignment came with a deadline. I watched classmates move confidently through joints and hinges while I stood there trying to make sense of instructions that felt written in another language. My wood shop teacher showed me a lot of grace. He was also my tennis coach, so he knew my strengths lived on a different court. Still, those unfinished projects left a mark. For years, I quietly carried the belief that building things with my hands simply wasn’t “my thing.”

Because of that, I avoided projects that pushed me outside my comfort zone. If something required tools, measurements, and mechanical thinking, I was quick to find a reason to step aside.

Until this basement shelf project.

This one had thirty-two hinges. Four drawers. Measurements that had to be right. Pieces that had to line up. There were moments when I could almost hear that old wood shop classroom whispering, You’re not good at this.

But something different happened this time.

I stayed with it.

One hinge at a time.
One drawer at a time.
One small correction at a time.

No rushing. No quitting. Just quiet persistence.

Last night, when my wife walked into the basement and saw the finished shelves, the look on her face told me everything I needed to know. I didn’t need a grade. I didn’t need applause. I just needed that moment to realize that the story I had been telling myself for decades was no longer true.

I wasn’t “bad at this.”

I was simply unfinished.

And unfinished things, given enough patience, can still become beautiful.

There was a little bonus attached to this victory. The store where I purchased the shelves was offering an 11% rebate. I mailed that form in on the very first day. When that rebate arrives, it will go toward tools for what I’m now calling my dream project.

More on that later.

For today, I’m just celebrating this quiet win.

It’s never too late to rewrite an old story.
It’s never too late to learn something new.
It’s never too late to finish what we once thought we couldn’t.

“Let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” — Galatians 6:9

Some victories aren’t loud.
Some are built slowly, hinge by hinge, drawer by drawer, belief by belief.

Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

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Captain’s Addendum

Spock: “Fascinating, Captain. Evidence suggests your limitation was never mechanical ability, but an outdated self-assessment.”

Bones: “In plain English, Spock… the man finally stopped believing an old lie.”

I smiled when I heard them. Because that’s exactly what happened in that basement. I didn’t just build shelves. I dismantled a decades-old belief about myself.

Mission Log complete.

Grateful for small victories that quietly change big stories.

Mission Accomplished

Mission Accomplished

Stardate 04.11.2026

Yesterday, Miss Joni completed the delivery of 50 coloring books, 50 packs of crayons, and 50 hand-made bracelets to the University of Iowa Stead Family Children's Hospital.

It happened to be the very same day our astronauts returned safely home from their journey to the moon and back. I smiled at the timing. One of the illustrations inside the coloring book shows a child dreaming of becoming an astronaut after healing is complete. Two very different missions. One shared thread: hope for the future.

The first photo from the day captures Miss Joni standing in front of the hospital beside the concierge who receives and distributes deliveries. It’s a quiet, beautiful moment. No spotlight. No ceremony. Just faithful people doing meaningful work for children they may never meet.

Later, my joy doubled.

A friend shared a picture of Helen M. Swearson autographing Where in the World is Wilson? while on a break from her day job. There she was, taking ordinary time in an ordinary place to do something extraordinary for someone else. The second photo carries that spirit — a reminder that missions are often carried forward in the small in-between moments of daily life.

Now that the logistics are complete and the coloring books are making their way into patients’ hands, I can already see ways to make the next mission more seamless. Each step teaches something. Each delivery becomes a little smoother than the last. One percent better.

None of this happens alone.

It is carried by supporters, encouragers, and prayer warriors who stand behind the scenes. People who give, who share, who believe, who lift these efforts up when no one else is watching.

Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.

“Let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” — Galatians 6:9

Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

Captain’s Addendum

Spock: “Fascinating, Captain. The scale of the mission is small, yet the impact appears… immeasurable.”

Bones: “That’s because you’re measuring with logic again. The heart doesn’t work in units, Spock.”

Michael: The more I do this, the more I see that meaningful work rarely looks dramatic. It looks like Miss Joni at a front desk. It looks like Helen signing a book on her lunch break. It looks like ordinary people choosing to do one small good thing at a time.

Mission Log: Another small mission, carried out with big love.

Have a great day.

Drawer #3 Before Sunrise Today

Stardate 04/10/2026

It’s just after 5:00am as I write this.

I’ve already been awake for an hour. Like most mornings, the first part of my day began with prayer and meditation, followed by a quick look at my sleep report. I pay attention to deep sleep and REM because they tell me something important: whether the way I’m living is supporting peace… or quietly working against it.

So far, so good.

That matters to me because my workload is on the high side, and I’ve learned the hard way that inner peace doesn’t survive long when I ignore the signals.

I’m also happy to report progress on the number one item on the honey-do list.

If you’ve been following along, you know there was a difference of opinion about who should build the shelves in the basement. That difference of opinion was rooted in past experiences. Fair experiences. Honest experiences.

What I’m realizing now is that this whole shelf project is actually an experiment disguised as a home improvement task.

I’m trying to prove something — not to my wife, but to myself.

I’m learning that when I gently step outside my comfort zone and give myself permission to learn new things without pressure, I can accomplish far more than my own brain thinks I can handle.

My brain can be stubborn.

When there’s tension or unfinished business in my head, it often shows up during sleep. That’s where the real battle happens. I used to think the solution was to push harder during the day. Now I’m discovering the solution is to cooperate with my own mind instead of fighting it.

I’m learning how to team up with my brain.

Less tension.
More patience.
One small task at a time.

Once this story is scheduled for release at 8:08am Pacific Time, I’ll be in the basement working on drawer #3. I’ve given myself one hour for the task.

If I were a professional cabinet maker, this might take ten minutes.

I am not a professional cabinet maker.

I am a man learning to be comfortable in the “uncomfort zone.”

When the hour is up, I stop. No frustration. No overrun. No pressure.

This is an experiment I can’t lose.

If the drawer is complete in one hour, I win.
If it’s not complete, I still win.

Because the real goal isn’t the drawer.

The real goal is learning to live peacefully while doing things that once felt intimidating.

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives.” — John 14:27

Peace isn’t the absence of work.
It’s the presence of calm while doing the work.

And that’s new for me.

I can already sense that when this shelf project is complete, there will be a conversation with my wife about what comes next. If this experiment continues to go well, I have a feeling it may lead to some interesting projects in the future.

But that’s a story for another day.

Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

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Captain’s Addendum

Spock: “Captain, it appears you are conducting an experiment on yourself.”

Bones: “I’ve seen worse patients, Spock. At least this one’s learning.”

Michael: “Gentlemen, I’m finally figuring out how to work with my own mind instead of against it.”

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Grateful for another quiet morning, one drawer at a time.

Goal for Today: Build One Drawer

Stardate 04.09.2026

Now that the first bulk order of coloring books has been handed off to Miss Joni and her team of student volunteers, I can turn my attention back to the honey-do list.

The basement wall-to-wall shelving project is moving forward. Most of the shelves are in place. Yesterday, I completed the first of four drawers.

What’s interesting is how this project is teaching me something I didn’t expect.

Small daily goals are working better for me than trying to do too much at once.

At the beginning, this project felt overwhelming. Measurements, materials, tools, and steps all piled up in my head at once. It felt like something that would take forever to complete. But when I reduced the goal to something simple — build one drawer — everything changed.

One drawer is manageable. One drawer is clear. One drawer is doable.

And one drawer, repeated four times, becomes a finished cabinet.

I woke up especially encouraged this morning because I hit a new high mark on my sleep report. Deep rest. Strong REM. A clear mind. There’s something about waking up rested that makes steady progress feel not only possible, but enjoyable.

There’s no pressure to build another drawer today. My wife even offered to let me slow down and take a break. But this isn’t about pressure. I simply enjoy creating. I enjoy learning. I enjoy watching something take shape that didn’t exist before.

This project is giving me an opportunity to practice patience in a very practical way.

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” — Galatians 6:9

Sometimes “doing good” looks like serving others.

Sometimes it looks like building a drawer.

Both require the same thing: steady faithfulness in small steps.

I have plenty of time this morning to complete another drawer before heading to my day job. No rush. No stress. Just quiet progress.

Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

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Captain’s Addendum

Spock: “Captain, progress appears statistically inevitable when the task is reduced to its simplest component.”

Bones: “In plain English, that means stop trying to build the whole thing at once.”

Michael: “One drawer at a time, gentlemen.”

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Grateful for another day to build, learn, and move forward.

Logistics 101

Stardate 04.08.2026

Sometimes the best way to handle complicated details is to pretend you’re a fifth grader.

Not to simplify the mission — but to simplify the steps.

Today’s story is inspired by my accountability partner, Miss Joni, who has a heart for serving children. She doesn’t just serve. She teaches. She models. She invites others into the work.

I saw her yesterday when she stopped by my day job to fulfill the kids’ order for items headed to a local food pantry. Those same kids who held a bake sale because they wanted to help children they will likely never meet.

Later today, I’ll see her again. This time, I’ll hand off the first bulk order: 50 coloring books and 50 packs of crayons.

Because of Miss Joni, there is now a clear path for getting these supplies into the hands of patients at the University of Iowa Stead Family Children's Hospital.

And here’s what struck me.

What felt complicated in my head became very simple in her hands.

Order.
Receive.
Deliver.
Document.
Repeat.

That’s it.

A fifth grader could follow that.

And that’s the point.

I now have a working template for logistics — a step-by-step process for handling bulk donations, from ordering to distribution to accounting. Not because I designed it, but because I watched someone who serves with clarity instead of clutter.

It doesn’t get any better than kids helping kids.

An honorable mention goes to Kiwanis International for seeing what these students were doing and multiplying their efforts. What started as a bake sale is turning into a model that can be repeated again and again.

Miss Joni plans to share photos once the books reach the children’s hospital. I’m looking forward to that moment — not for recognition, but for confirmation that simple steps, done faithfully, make a real difference.

“For God is not a God of confusion but of peace.” — 1 Corinthians 14:33

Peace often looks like simplicity.

Clarity.

Order.

And sometimes, pretending you’re a fifth grader so you don’t overcomplicate what God is trying to do through willing hands.

Near the end of days like this, I find myself smiling at how something that once felt like a fog of logistics has turned into a clear path forward.

Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

Captain’s Addendum

Spock: “Captain, the process appears almost… elementary.”

Bones: “I’ve seen grown men complicate a glass of water. This? This makes sense.”

Michael: “Sometimes the smartest plan is the one a child could follow.”

May you live long and prosper.

Have a great day.

First Bulk Order Arrives Today

Stardate 04.07.2026

Sometimes the best solutions don’t come from us at all. They come through us — carried by other people’s hearts.

What began for me as a personal pursuit of better health, stronger finances, and clearer purpose has now become three books. Different stories. One mission: help others navigate hard seasons with hope.

Lately, I’d been wrestling with a stubborn case of writer’s block. Some of it came from within. Some of it came from circumstances around me. The breakthrough didn’t arrive as a lightning bolt of inspiration. It came in the form of friends, family… and thirty elementary students who simply wanted to bless children they’ve never met.

Those students held a bake sale because they wanted to make a difference for patients at the University of Iowa Stead Family Children's Hospital.

They didn’t overthink it. They didn’t form a committee. They saw a need and acted.

Then something beautiful happened.

Kiwanis International heard what the kids were doing and doubled the money they raised. Miss Joni told the students she knew someone who could get coloring books at a discount and reached out. Word spread. Other donors wanted in. More hands went up.

And today, I’m receiving a box of 50 coloring books from Amazon.

My head is still spinning.

Not because of the books.

Because of the hearts.

This is what happens when people stop waiting for perfect plans and start acting with simple compassion. This is what happens when generosity becomes contagious. This is what happens when a few kids decide to care.

Volunteers are stepping in. Doors are opening. Momentum is building.

And the writer’s block?

Gone.

Stay tuned.

Have a great day.

Early In, Early Out

Stardate 04.06.2026

One of my teammates from my day job is on vacation this week, so I’m starting my shift a little earlier today and tomorrow to help cover for him.

There’s something satisfying about walking into a quiet workplace before the day fully wakes up. The lights seem softer. The noise hasn’t started yet. It feels like borrowed time — a head start not just on work, but on the day itself.

The tradeoff is a gift: extra family time at the end of the day.

I’ve learned to recognize these moments for what they are. They’re small adjustments that create meaningful returns. An earlier alarm. A little more effort on the front end. A little more presence on the back end.

That’s a trade I’ll take every time.

Later today, I plan to check in with the place I ordered our shelves from. I discovered I’m missing a few parts needed to complete the four drawers in the cabinet project I’ve been working on. Once those drawers are installed, the project will be finished.

I didn’t expect to enjoy this process as much as I have.

There’s no better way to learn than by doing. Measuring twice. Adjusting. Realizing you installed something backwards. Taking it apart. Trying again. Learning patience in a very practical, very humbling way.

Some lessons don’t come from books. They come from screws, wood, instructions, and the quiet decision to keep going when it would be easier to walk away.

What surprises me most is not that the cabinet is coming together.

It’s that my confidence is.

I can feel it building as the project progresses. The kind of confidence that doesn’t shout but quietly says, “You can handle more than you thought.”

And because of this one project, I’m already thinking about a bigger one.

More on that later.

For now, I simply want to savor what it feels like to cross a finish line. To see something that once existed only in boxes and loose parts slowly take shape into something useful, sturdy, and complete.

There’s a lesson in that.

Sometimes God builds us the same way.

Piece by piece. Adjustment by adjustment. Mistake by mistake. Until one day we step back and realize we’re not who we were when we started.

“Let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” — Galatians 6:9

This cabinet didn’t come together all at once. Neither do we.

Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

Captain’s Addendum

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Fascinating, Captain. You appear to be deriving confidence from cabinetry.”

Bones shook his head. “I’ve seen men find themselves in stranger places than a pile of hardware.”

I smiled. Sometimes the work in front of us is doing more than building a project. It’s building us.

Mission Log complete.

Grateful for early starts, steady progress, and the quiet joy of finishing what we begin.

Happy Easter

Stardate 04.05.2026

Imagine walking up to the tomb and finding it empty.

The week leading up to this moment felt like a week from hell. Confusion. Fear. Grief. You remember wanting to fight back when the mob came for Jesus. One of your friends did draw his sword and struck a man, cutting off his ear. And you watched, stunned, as Jesus calmly picked up the ear and restored it as if violence had no authority in His presence.

That memory is still fresh when you arrive at the tomb.

And now… it’s empty.

Then His words come rushing back.

“Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”

The light dawns slowly. The kind of realization that starts in the mind but lands in the heart like thunder.

The temple has been rebuilt.

Jesus is alive.

Death has been conquered.

What felt like the darkest week in human history was actually the setup for the greatest victory the world would ever know.

“This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” — Psalm 118:24

This morning, we are headed to our house of worship to celebrate Easter Sunday with hearts that are full. Full of gratitude. Full of relief. Full of joy that doesn’t come from circumstances but from truth.

I’m especially thankful today that my body has recovered from whatever crept into my life on Friday and forced me to leave my day job early. For a moment, it felt like my own little retreat into weakness. A forced pause. A reminder that I am not in control of as much as I think I am.

But today, strength is returning.

The sun is shining. The air feels lighter. And the timing is not lost on me.

Just as the tomb did not stay occupied, neither did my bed.

Just as despair did not have the final word, neither did fatigue.

Just as death did not win, neither did whatever tried to slow me down this weekend.

Easter has a way of putting everything into perspective.

The setbacks. The sickness. The exhaustion. The grief. The fear.

They are real.

But they are not final.

We worship a Savior who specializes in turning what looks finished into a fresh beginning.

So today, we rejoice.

Not because life is perfect.

But because hope is alive.

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Captain’s Addendum

Spock tilted his head slightly. “Captain, the data suggests that hope often appears most illogical at the very moment it is most necessary.”

Bones folded his arms. “I’ve seen enough to know, Spock, sometimes the only cure for a weary body is a reminded soul.”

And I smiled, realizing that Easter doesn’t just change history.

It changes how we see today.

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Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

Mission Log: Strength returns. Hope remains. Gratitude rises.

Happy Easter.

Health Setback Forces a Retreat

Health Setback Forces a Retreat
Stardate 04.04.2026

This morning, I was treated to breakfast in bed.

Not because it was planned. Not because it was a celebration. But because my body needed a pause.

Something caught up with me near the end of my shift yesterday and made it clear that retreat was the wise choice. I went home early. I skipped Good Friday services. I canceled cardio tennis this morning. And I spent 11½ hours in bed letting my body do what it was asking me to do — recover.

Today will be slow.

Intentional. Gentle.

My hope is to have enough strength later to install the cabinet doors on the new shelves in the basement. But even that will depend on how I feel. There’s no forcing anything today.

And strangely, there’s peace in that.

I’m off today and tomorrow, which feels like a gift. Space to heal without pressure. Space to listen instead of push.

It’s not easy for me to retreat. I like momentum. I like movement. I like checking things off the list.

But sometimes the most faithful thing we can do is step back and let our bodies catch up with our intentions.

“He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul.” — Psalm 23:2–3

This morning feels like green pastures.

Not dramatic. Not exciting. Just restorative.

And I’m grateful for that.

Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

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Captain’s Addendum

Spock: “Captain, a temporary retreat appears necessary for long-term effectiveness.”

Bones: “In plain English — sometimes you just need to lie down.”

I’m learning that rest is not a setback. It’s often part of the path forward. And today, I’m thankful for the reminder.

Good Friday

Stardate 04.03.2026

Some people wonder why it’s called Good Friday.

They see the suffering. The betrayal. The cross. And they struggle to connect that to anything good.

But what Jesus did on this day over 2,000 years ago stands as the ultimate act of love. Through His suffering came the opening of a door that none of us could open on our own. What looked like loss became the pathway to life.

That’s why it’s good.

Last night, I listened closely as my pastor led the Holy Thursday service. The theme was simple: service. Just as Jesus washed the feet of His followers, we are called to serve others with the same humility and love.

That message stayed with me.

Because I’ve been watching something quietly come full circle in my own life.

About a year ago, I met the person who oversees the Children’s Miracle Network connection at the University of Iowa Stead Family Children’s Hospital. At the time, it felt like a simple conversation — a seed planted for something that might happen someday.

Now, that “someday” is beginning to take shape.

I’m preparing to introduce a coloring book created specifically for patients at the hospital. A small offering meant to bring comfort and distraction during difficult days.

A few weeks ago, my pastor mentioned that part of his calling is visiting these same patients, representing Jesus in their rooms. And as it turns out, my original contact is connected to this same circle of chaplains and caregivers.

Even more surprising, the very group that gathers funds to support this work is now helping spread the word about the coloring book.

And I wasn’t even in the room when these connections came together.

Others were speaking. Doors were opening. Threads were weaving.

I’m simply watching it happen.

On Good Friday, I’m reminded that sometimes God is working behind the scenes long before we understand the pattern. What once looked like separate conversations, separate ideas, separate people are revealing themselves to have been connected all along.

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him.” — Romans 8:28

Just as Jesus opened the door to Heaven through His sacrifice, I’m watching doors open here on earth through quiet acts of service and faithfulness.

I’m thankful for Good Friday.

I’m thankful for momentum in this mission.

And I’m thankful to be walking this journey one step at a time.

Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

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Captain’s Addendum

Spock: “Captain, it appears the connections were established long before you perceived them.”

Bones: “Funny how the pieces come together when you weren’t even looking.”

I’m learning that God often builds the path ahead of us while we’re simply taking the next faithful step. And for that, I’m deeply grateful today.

All Things New

Stardate 04.02.2026

Jesus says, “Behold, I make all things new.”

I’ve been thinking about that line this Holy Thursday — the day Jesus knelt to wash the feet of His followers. A simple act of service that confused some of them at first. It didn’t make sense. It didn’t feel right. Until He explained the purpose.

Then they understood.

Sometimes renewal doesn’t look dramatic. Sometimes it looks like humility. Like service. Like quiet obedience to what is right in front of us.

And somehow, through those small acts, something inside us becomes new.

I’m especially thankful today that He has made me new in more ways than I often recognize.

Speaking of new things, I’ve been noticing a gentle wave of renewal happening in everyday parts of my life.

At my day job, our department is getting a physical makeover. Walls are shifting. Workspaces are expanding to accommodate growth. There’s fresh energy in the air as we prepare for what’s coming in the months ahead.

At home, the cabinet project my wife entrusted to me is nearing completion. On Saturday, I’ll install the doors — the final step in a project that has required patience, focus, and steady effort. What began as a pile of parts is turning into something useful and beautiful.

On the courts, my tennis teammates and I are preparing for our pursuit of a state championship and whatever may lie beyond that. There’s excitement there, but also camaraderie. Shared purpose. The joy of working together toward a common goal.

And this weekend, we’re looking forward to time with family.

None of these things are dramatic on their own.

But together, they feel like evidence of something deeper.

Renewal doesn’t always arrive as a lightning bolt. Sometimes it comes as a series of small improvements, quiet responsibilities, and simple acts of service that slowly reshape our days.

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has gone, the new is here!” — 2 Corinthians 5:17

Holy Thursday reminds me that becoming new often begins with serving others right where we are. Not waiting for big moments. Not searching for grand gestures.

Just kneeling in front of the life we’ve been given and tending to it with care.

Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

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Captain’s Addendum

Spock: “Captain, renewal appears to be occurring through ordinary acts of service.”

Bones: “Funny how the simple stuff ends up changing us the most.”

I’m learning that God often makes things new not through extraordinary events, but through ordinary faithfulness. And for that, I’m grateful today.

Two Steps Beyond Your Comfort Zone

Stardate 04.01.2026

There’s a reason it’s called a comfort zone.

It’s safe. Predictable. Familiar.

And living there comes with consequences that quietly compound over time. Stay there long enough, and you may one day look up to find that some of your dreams have slipped quietly out of reach. What once felt like possibility slowly turns into regret.

If you’re longing for a greater sense of fulfillment, you might consider trying a small experiment.

Take a breath.

You may even feel your mind trying to distract you from reading the next few lines. That’s normal. The brain is very good at protecting familiar patterns.

So here’s the promise you make to it:

I’m not going more than two steps beyond my comfort zone today.

That’s all.

My life has been a long series of small experiments. Many of them. Some worked. Some didn’t. But most of them required only one or two steps beyond what felt comfortable at the time.

Over the years, I’ve trained my brain to trust this process. I don’t ask it to leap. I don’t demand drastic change. I simply nudge it forward — gently, consistently.

This keeps the internal fire alarms from going off.

The goal is not disruption. The goal is discovery.

Before taking those two steps, pause and look at what you are already doing inside your comfort zone. Ask yourself:

Is there a better way to do this?
What activities are quiet time wasters?
What small new activity could I try today that might improve the quality of my life?

The questions don’t need to be complicated. The answers don’t need to be dramatic.

They just need to move you slightly forward.

What I’ve learned is this: the longer you live just two steps beyond your comfort zone, the more natural growth begins to feel. Change stops feeling threatening and starts feeling possible.

Here’s the simple prompt I use when starting a new experiment:

For the next 30 days, I will take two steps outside my normal pattern of behavior each day.

Be specific. Vague intentions don’t produce meaningful change.

I prefer doing this in the morning, when my mind is rested and less resistant. And I always write the experiment down. Documenting the process allows you to see the quiet progress that’s easy to miss day to day.

Keep this up for a year, and you may look back and barely recognize yourself.

Not because you forced change.

But because you gently invited it.

“Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.” — Zechariah 4:10

Small beginnings. Two steps. One experiment at a time.

That’s often all it takes.

Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

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Captain’s Addendum

Spock: “Captain, incremental adjustments to behavior yield statistically significant long-term outcomes.”

Bones: “In plain English, Spock — small steps still get you somewhere.”

I’ve learned that growth doesn’t require dramatic leaps. Most of the time, it just requires the courage to step slightly beyond what feels familiar, and the patience to repeat that step tomorrow.

I’m grateful for the reminder that progress can be gentle.

The Meeting After the Meeting

Stardate 03.31.2026

Last night’s pickleball committee meeting at the Rec Center was productive. Plans are steady for the fundraiser on 4/17, and for the first time in a long while, it feels like we can see the finish line coming into view for September. After three years of effort, setbacks, adjustments, and perseverance, there’s a quiet sense that the pieces are finally fitting together.

But the most meaningful part of the evening wasn’t on the agenda.

It happened after the meeting ended.

My accountability partner, Joni, who faithfully drives a long distance to be part of this group, stayed to talk. Jodi, one of our co-leaders who is pouring her whole heart into this project for the sake of our community and future generations, joined us. The three of us stood there for nearly an hour, sharing pieces of our stories that don’t usually make it into formal meetings.

There was no whiteboard. No notes. No timeline.

Just honesty. Gratitude. And a deep sense that this work has changed us as much as it will bless others.

When we finally walked out to the parking lot, I grabbed a copy of the coloring book from my vehicle and handed it to Jodi. She smiled and asked if I would autograph it.

It was a small moment.

But it didn’t feel small.

Something about that exchange felt like a quiet marker in the journey. A recognition that we are no longer just volunteers working on a project. We are people who have walked through something together. The kind of togetherness that only comes from shared struggle, shared hope, and shared belief in what could be.

I drove home with a calm I haven’t felt in a long time.

Not excitement. Not adrenaline.

Peace.

The kind of peace that comes when your faith, your effort, your relationships, and your purpose all begin pointing in the same direction.

I slept deeply last night.

That may not sound spiritual, but it is.

Sometimes the clearest sign that your life is coming into alignment is not what you feel while awake — it’s the rest you experience when you lay your head down.

Easter is this Sunday. A season of renewal. Of hope. Of life emerging from places that once looked finished.

And here we are, three years into a project that often felt uphill, finally able to see the ridge line ahead.

What I’m learning is this:

The most important work often happens after the meeting is over.

In parking lots. In unplanned conversations. In the quiet moments when people let their guard down and speak from the heart instead of the agenda.

Those are the moments where connection deepens. Where trust grows. Where God does His finest work — not in the spotlight, but in the spaces in between.

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” — Galatians 6:9

Last night felt like a glimpse of that harvest.

Not because the work is done.

But because the people doing the work are now bound together in a way that only perseverance can create.

Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

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Captain’s Addendum

Spock: “Captain, it appears the most significant progress occurred after official proceedings concluded.”

Bones: “Funny how the real healing never happens in the exam room, isn’t it?”

Sometimes the most meaningful progress in our lives doesn’t show up on schedules or agendas. It happens when we slow down long enough to truly see each other. Last night reminded me that while projects may bring us together, it is shared humanity that keeps us walking forward side by side.

I’m grateful for that reminder today.

Mark Your Calendars for Pickleball Fundraiser in Williamsburg on 4/17

Stardate 03.30.2026

Tonight, our pickleball committee gathers to prepare for something bigger than a meeting.

We’re coming together to plan a fundraiser that will take place on Friday night, 4/17, at the Sundown Bar & Grill here in Williamsburg.

At first glance, it might look like a simple local event. A few people meeting. Some auction items. A night of laughter and friendly bids.

But underneath it all is a shared dream.

We’re working toward a goal of building four outdoor pickleball courts at the Williamsburg Recreation Center. Courts that will serve families, neighbors, retirees, kids, and anyone who simply wants a place to move, gather, and enjoy community together.

What moves me most is watching how this is coming together.

A few of the ladies on the committee are doing the heavy lifting. Quietly organizing. Coordinating. Calling. Planning. Their energy reminds me that the heart of any community project is rarely loud. It’s steady. Faithful. Persistent.

It’s the small, consistent effort that makes the big things possible.

“Let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” — Galatians 6:9

That verse feels especially fitting right now.

Because this isn’t just about courts. It’s about what happens on those courts. The conversations. The laughter. The friendly competition. The sense of belonging.

It’s about creating a space where people can show up, be active, and be together.

If you’re local, I hope you’ll consider joining us on 4/17. Come for the fun. Stay for the purpose. Bid on some wonderful auction items. Encourage the people who have been working behind the scenes to make this possible.

Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

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🖖 Captain’s Addendum

Spock: “Captain, the objective appears to be recreational infrastructure.”
Bones: “Spock, it’s never just about the court. It’s about the people who gather on it.”

Sometimes the smallest community efforts create the greatest places for connection.

Mission Log: Grateful for neighbors who step up, for shared dreams, and for the reminder that good things grow when people work together.

Thank you for being part of this journey. May your day be filled with small acts that build something lasting.

 

Palm Sunday Reflections

Stardate 03.29.2026

March Madness is winding down. Our men’s basketball team fought valiantly yesterday and came up short in the Elite 8. Congratulations to our neighbors to the east, the Illinois Fighting Illini men's basketball, who now advance to the Final Four.

What matters most to me isn’t the outcome. It’s the family time we shared along the way.

It’s not often our teams do this well, and this season gave us a reason to gather, cheer, laugh, and ride the emotional ups and downs together. We watched a first-year coach do something that few leaders manage to do so quickly: cultivate winning habits at an elite level.

That idea stays with me.

Because that’s the core of who I am. I love bringing out the best in others. I love watching habits form that quietly shape outcomes long before the scoreboard reflects them. I’m already looking forward to next season.

Speaking of new seasons, yesterday I did something a little outside my comfort zone. I spent five hours building cabinets in our basement. All that remains are the doors, which I’ll install later this week.

As I worked, I was reminded of visiting my cousins as a child. One room in their home had wall-to-wall shelving with cabinet doors — a room that looked remarkably similar to something my wife has always dreamed of having. It’s funny how memories from fifty years ago can guide your hands today.

I gave myself a small pat on the back when I finished. Not out of pride, but gratitude. This small success is preparing me for a much larger project I’ve been dreaming about for years. Like most dreams, it required me to overcome some real obstacles before I could even begin.

Stay tuned.

Today is Palm Sunday.

This day is deeply personal for me because of the stories I’ve been sharing about how I came to know Jesus. I understand that some people may struggle to make sense of what I describe. Truthfully, I still do at times. God’s ways are not our ways, and much of what Jesus did while walking this earth runs counter to what we might expect from the Creator of the universe.

What stands out to me as we enter Holy Week is something that happened just before Palm Sunday.

Jesus and His followers were on a boat. He fell asleep. A storm moved in, and the disciples were certain they were going to die. They woke Him, and He calmed the storm. When they reached shore at the region of the Sea of Galilee, a man possessed by demons came running toward Him from the caves.

Jesus healed the man. Clothed him. Restored him.

And then He did something unexpected.

He told the man he could not come along.

Instead, He gave him a mission: go home and tell others what the Lord had done for him.

This man — once isolated, feared, and broken — became the first known storyteller for Jesus in that region. When Jesus later returned, people were waiting because they had heard the man’s story.

“Return home and tell how much God has done for you.” — Luke 8:39

I think about that often.

The man didn’t attend a class. He didn’t receive formal training. He simply told his story.

As I prepare my heart this week for the Resurrection, I’m reminded that this is what I’ve been doing too. Sharing stories. Not because I have everything figured out, but because something changed in me, and I can’t help but talk about it.

Some people may observe the changes in my life and not fully understand them. That’s okay. I don’t fully understand them myself. I just know I’m all in.

Happy Palm Sunday.

Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

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🖖 Captain’s Addendum

Spock: “Captain, the man’s qualifications were… unconventional.”
Bones: “Sometimes the best witnesses are the ones who’ve got the most to be grateful for.”

I’m learning that we don’t need perfect understanding to share what God has done. We simply need a willing heart and an honest story.

Mission Log: Grateful for family, for small projects that prepare us for bigger ones, and for the quiet calling to share what we’ve seen and experienced.

May your day be filled with peace, reflection, and quiet gratitude.

Preparations Underway for Elite 8 March Madness Family Moment

Stardate 03.28.2026

A couple of nights ago, we gathered at our youngest son’s home for a Sweet 16 family moment we won’t soon forget. The basketball rivalry between the Iowa Hawkeyes men's basketball and the Nebraska Cornhuskers men's basketball goes back generations in our state. It’s the kind of history that shows up in good-natured teasing, raised voices at the television, and shared laughter no matter the outcome.

The game didn’t start the way we hoped. In fact, we never even led until the final two minutes. Several friends later told me they turned it off when Nebraska jumped out to a ten-point lead early. They assumed they knew how the story would end.

They missed something special.

They missed the slow, steady comeback.
They missed the quiet belief building possession by possession.
They missed the moment when the impossible started to feel possible.

Tonight, our attention turns east toward the Illinois Fighting Illini men's basketball. They’re the #3 seed in our family bracket and just knocked off the #2 seed. Earlier in the tournament, our team eliminated the #1 seed at the buzzer with a three-pointer that sent us all out of our seats.

Now, here we are.

Cinderella. The #9 seed. Forty minutes away from the Final Four.

A new coach with a proven track record stands at the helm, and our family can hardly wait for tip-off.

But as I think about these games, I realize the lesson reaching beyond the court has very little to do with basketball.

It has to do with people.

I’ve been paying closer attention to my teammates at my day job and the groups I network with. I’m noticing a pattern that is hard to ignore:

Past performance is the best predictor of future performance.

Not talent.
Not intentions.
Not talk.

Patterns.

The small things people do repeatedly tell you exactly what they will do when the pressure is on.

That’s why the small things matter so much.

That’s why I’m leaning into this idea of becoming 1% better each day. Because when the big moments arrive — the final two minutes of the game, the unexpected challenge at work, the opportunity you didn’t see coming — you don’t rise to the occasion.

You fall back on your habits.

I once heard a story about why David picked up five stones before facing Goliath. Legend says Goliath had four brothers. David didn’t prepare for just one battle. He prepared for whatever might come next. He practiced his skills daily so that when the giant appeared, confidence wasn’t something he had to manufacture in the moment.

It was already there.

“Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.” — Zechariah 4:10

Those friends who turned the game off early believed the outcome was already decided. They judged the future based on the scoreboard in the first few minutes.

But the players on the court kept playing. Possession by possession. Stop by stop. Shot by shot.

Small faithfulness.

Tonight, I’m hoping for another family moment we can cherish. But even more than that, I’m grateful for the reminder that life works the same way as these games.

Stay in it.
Do the small things well.
Trust the habits you’ve been building.

And don’t turn the game off too early.

Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

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🖖 Captain’s Addendum

Spock: “Captain, the outcome was statistically improbable given the early deficit.”
Bones: “That’s because you can’t measure heart with numbers, Spock.”

I’m learning that heart is built long before the scoreboard makes sense. One small choice at a time, one percent better each day.

Mission Log: Gratitude for family, for faith, and for the reminder that steady faithfulness often writes the best endings.

Thank you for walking this journey with me. May your day be filled with quiet confidence and small, faithful steps forward.