How One Phone Call With a Coroner Shaped Katie Kelly's Hope in the Darkest Season

How One Phone Call With a Coroner Shaped Katie Kelly's Hope in the Darkest Season

Description Katie Kelly is the founder and president of Through It All Foundation [https://www.throughitall.com/], a nonprofit that equips churches and individuals to walk alongside people grieving the loss of a loved one. At 27 years old, Katie's husband Ben was killed in a shark attack while surfing off the coast of California. What followed was one of the most profound journeys of grief, faith, and calling I've heard — and what emerged on the other side is an organization born not from ambition, but from obedience. I encourage you to lean into the wisdom she has to share around how to care for those who are grieving… a topic that our culture is not great at. Lessons from Katie (00:14:59) The vertical and horizontal gospel. Katie describes healing as having two dimensions — a vertical one (God meeting us directly) and a horizontal one (God meeting us through people). She’s found the horizontal to be the most tangible expression of God’s love in her darkest season. (00:17:56) Ben’s lesson: don’t rush out of it. When Ben was going through something hard, he’d resist Katie’s urge to fix it and say, “God has something to teach me in this — why would I want to jump out too quick?” That posture of staying in the difficulty became foundational to who Katie is now. (00:28:27) Grief comes in waves — forever. Katie no longer believes she’ll ever be finished grieving. The love for Ben didn’t stop, so why would the grief? What changes is your ability to carry it. The waves don’t disappear; you just learn to swim a little better. (00:30:03) Validating emotion makes it smaller, not bigger. Before Ben died, Katie used to try to dampen people’s hard emotions, thinking validation would amplify them. She learned the opposite is true — when someone sits with you in your pain, the pain becomes more bearable, not more overwhelming. (00:38:58) C.S. Lewis gave her permission to question. Reading A Grief Observed — and seeing a revered man of faith struggle openly with God — gave Katie the freedom to wrestle with her own faith without shame. She’s convinced that kind of honest lament is something the church desperately needs more of. (00:41:14) “Can God be trusted?” is a different question than “Does God exist?” Katie could never say God didn’t exist — she’d seen him show up too clearly. But in years two and three, the harder question surfaced: do I want to serve you? That distinction is one of the most honest things I’ve heard someone say about faith after suffering. (00:45:44) God is in the details — before you even know you need them. Two years before Through It All had a logo or a name, a coroner collected sea glass from the beach where Ben died and gave it to Katie. She had no idea what it would become. That kind of providence, she says, is what rebuilt her trust in God — small gifts she couldn’t explain away. (00:57:58) God redeems terrible things — but He doesn’t cause them so we’ll have something to do. Katie was very clear on this distinction. She battled the fear that starting a nonprofit would feel like making Ben’s death useful. Her theology: God is in the business of redemption, not orchestrated tragedy. (01:03:28) Bring your bucket — but don’t take theirs home. One of the most useful images from this conversation: everyone brings their own bucket into a hard conversation. It’s not your job to carry their bucket out with yours. A grieving person needs someone healthy walking beside them, not someone equally weighed down. (01:08:04) Job’s friends were great — until they opened their mouths. The Jewish practice of sitting shiva — where no one speaks until the grieving person does — was exactly what Job needed. Katie believes the church has lost this practice of presence. The most loving thing you can do in the wake of loss is often just to be there, silent, without trying to make yourself more comfortable. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit mattheisler.substack.com [https://mattheisler.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

How a Message He Never Asked For Shaped Steven Lindenfelser's Spiritual Life

Description Steven Lindenfelser is a graphic designer, musician, voracious reader, and father of two who joined me in his beautifully curated home studio — a space as eclectic and intentional as the man himself. We talked about the origins of his creativity, what it actually means to make something original, how fatherhood is forcing him to rediscover his own childhood, and why AI doesn't scare him at all. Steven also shared one of the most striking spiritual experiences I've ever heard. Lessons 1. Your earliest creative memory matters more than you think. (00:38:38) Steven didn't have a tidy answer about when creativity started — until the question unlocked something: a dinosaur book he made in kindergarten. The pride and wonder he felt after finishing it became a kind of blueprint for what creativity would mean to him for the rest of his life. First memories of making something aren't small — they're seeds. 2. There's a difference between mimicry and original creativity. (00:44:01) Steven and Matt wrestled with what actually makes something "creative." The conversation landed on a meaningful distinction: mimicry is learning the language; original creativity is when you synthesize your influences into something distinctly yours. As Steven put it, we're all branching off the same creative tree — but the branch you grow is your own. 3. Creative process matters more than creative output. (00:55:40) Inspired by the artist CJ Hendry, who spends a week or more on each hyper-realistic colored pencil piece despite the existence of AI that could replicate it in seconds, Steven made the case that the process of creating is the point. The satisfaction doesn't live in the final product — it lives in the hours you put in to get there. 4. Your creative space is a physical map of your inner world. (00:03:55) Steven's studio — stacked with typography books, vintage records, car artifacts, and mid-century design objects — isn't just aesthetic. It's a curated environment built to sustain and prompt creative thought. He noted that even when he ends up on Pinterest anyway, the physical space holds a kind of backup energy he can reach for when he's really stuck. 5. Parenting is a second childhood — with all your baggage. (00:30:51) Both Matt and Steven reflected on how having young kids puts you back in the middle of the very emotional and developmental experiences you lived through yourself — except now you're carrying every lesson, wound, and habit from your own upbringing. The challenge is staying self-aware enough to give your kids something better without overcorrecting. 6. Structure and creativity aren't opposites — but the line is personal. (01:11:46) Steven's mom was a homeschool drill sergeant who pushed piano lessons hard. The result? He plays today. But his friend Levi got the same treatment with tennis — and now won't touch a racket. The takeaway isn't a formula. It's that fostering creativity in your kids requires knowing that specific kid — how much to push, how much to let them wander, and what they'll hold against you later. 7. Sometimes God shows up in the most unexpected vessels. (01:27:18) The most powerful moment of the conversation came at the end: Steven's sister has a seizure disorder that wipes her short-term memory. On two separate occasions, she woke from a seizure and — with complete clarity — looked at Steven and said, "Jesus loves you. He wants you to pursue your passions." Then she'd slip back into disorientation with zero recollection of what she'd said. It became the cornerstone of his faith. Some messages find their way through in ways that defy easy explanation. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit mattheisler.substack.com [https://mattheisler.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

How Saying "I Can't Leave Without Doing Something" Shaped Cassie Furnari's Life's Work

Today I’m joined by Cassie Furnari, founder and president of Milele Home — a rescue and recovery home for homeless young men in Kenya. This is a Barnabas Q&A episode, so it’s a bit different in format: Cassie shared her story with a group of young leaders, and we got to hear some really great questions from the audience. What struck me most is how Cassie didn’t set out to start a nonprofit. She was wrapping up an internship in Kenya when she met twelve boys living on the streets, tried to hand them off to existing organizations, and was told no. So she did something about it herself. That accidental obedience, over fifteen years, has become something extraordinary. If you want to learn more about Milele or Barnabas Group, links are in the show notes below. Links: * Cassie on LinkedIn: linkedin.com/in/cassie-furnari-60b503102 [https://www.linkedin.com/in/cassie-furnari-60b503102/] * Milele Home: milelehome.org [https://www.milelehome.org/] * Barnabas Group OC: barnabasgroupoc.org [https://www.barnabasgroupoc.org/] We discuss: * The origin story of Milele and how Cassie stumbled into founding it (0:43) * Growing up in a missions-minded family and how it shaped her heart (5:13) * How Cassie protects herself from burnout leading a demanding nonprofit (5:59) * Addressing root causes — why Milele works with families, not just the boys (8:40) * The “Restore” step: physical, spiritual, and emotional rehabilitation on-site (11:55) * Building and succession planning around key local leaders Joel and Margaret (13:29) * A tour of the new campus: farm, chapel, courts, counseling center, and more (14:34) * Her advice for young professionals wanting to get involved in grassroots work (16:35) * The vision for Milele as a training hub — not just replication (19:14) * The spiritual warfare Cassie felt the moment the campus opened (21:46) 10 lessons from my conversation with Cassie Furnari: * (0:43) The best organizations are often built by accident. Cassie wasn’t trying to start a nonprofit. She was finishing an internship, met twelve boys on the streets, tried to hand them off to other organizations, and was told no. That gap — and her refusal to accept it — is where Milele began. * (2:01) “I can’t leave without doing something” is a calling in disguise. That phrase is one of the most honest descriptions of vocation I’ve heard. Cassie didn’t have a vision statement or a five-year plan. She had a conviction she couldn’t ignore. * (3:17) Locally-led is not just a strategy — it’s a value. From the beginning, Cassie wanted what she was building to be owned by Kenyans. She found Joel and Margaret — a pastor and a trained social worker — who became the true architects of Milele’s culture and impact. That humility has made the work sustainable. * (5:13) The seeds of calling are planted early. Cassie grew up going to Mexico and Kenya with her family through their church. She didn’t manufacture her passion — it was cultivated in her over years of early exposure to global need. Pay attention to where your heart was opened young. * (5:59) Burnout doesn’t announce itself — it accumulates. Cassie shared honestly that this last season has been the closest to burnout she’s felt. It took outside community — not just her own willpower — to recognize it and respond. The people around us often see what we can’t. * (7:42) Empowering your team is the best anti-burnout strategy. Because Cassie trusts her team in Kenya, she can actually step away. Permission to rest only works if you’ve built people who are empowered to run without you. * (9:50) Per one boy served, eight people in his family are impacted. That’s not a statistic — that’s a philosophy. Milele doesn’t just help boys get off the streets. They go into homes, work with mothers, run addiction recovery courses, and partner with local churches. The ripple effect is the point. * (12:21) You can’t go straight from the streets into school. The “Restore” phase exists because there’s a gap — not in resources, but in readiness. Trauma-informed care, physical detox, discipleship, life skills: these create the bridge between where someone is and where they can go. * (17:36) “Your vocation is where the world’s deepest need and your greatest gladness meet.” This quote from Cassie’s college days has stayed with her ever since — and it shows. The advice she gives young people isn’t about résumés or roles. It’s about finding where your specific fire meets a specific need. * (21:46) Big breakthroughs invite spiritual opposition. After four years of planning, designing, and fundraising, the Milele campus finally opened. And almost immediately, Cassie said it felt like everything was coming against them. She framed it simply: “I don’t think we’re making the enemy happy right now.” There’s something worth sitting with in that. About Cassie Furnari: Cassie Furnari is the founder and president of Milele Home, a rescue and recovery nonprofit serving homeless young men in Kenya. What started as an act of stubborn compassion at the end of a college internship has grown into a fully-staffed residential campus offering physical restoration, trauma-informed counseling, faith-based discipleship, vocational training, and family intervention. Cassie is also a member of the Barnabas Group OC’s Emerging Leaders cohort, where she continues to develop alongside other young leaders in ministry and business. She lives in Southern California with her husband and kids. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit mattheisler.substack.com [https://mattheisler.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

How An Empty Room Shaped Noah Fiegener's Definition of Success

Description Noah is a pastor, husband, father, and thoughtful friend who spends his mornings making espresso and being present with his daughter before the busyness of the day begins. We begin with a quote from Pierre Teilhard de Chardin about trusting the slow work of God, then discuss how deep thinking comes from reading the ancients, why Jesuits produce such contemplative writers, and Noah's love for early church fathers like Justin Martyr and C.S. Lewis. Noah shares his conviction that character development is the slowest work—looking back and realizing he wasn't nearly as mature as he thought—and opens up about a pivotal youth ministry season when everything seemed to be failing until one girl encountered God in a nearly empty room, teaching him that focusing only on outcomes makes you miss the beauty of the moment. We discuss the humility required to listen to those who've gone before us, why we don't grow alone, how reading ancient writers reveals we're rarely as novel as we think, and Noah's wrestling with atonement theories and the anxiety of wondering where the world is going as a father. I hope this conversation challenges you to trust the slow work of God in your character, read broadly and humbly from those who've come before, and remember that your small daily actions matter even when the problems feel too big to solve. Lessons from Noah Social pressure can be a tool for productivity. (4:40) When asked if social pressure motivates him, Noah responds immediately: “Thousand percent.” He loves coffee shops but has discovered libraries are the most underrated places—free, quiet, and full of social accountability. The presence of others working keeps him from falling into YouTube rabbit holes. Sometimes the constraint of knowing someone might see your screen is exactly what you need to stay focused. Productivity isn’t always about willpower—sometimes it’s about engineering the right environment. Character development is the slowest work you’ll ever do. (19:03) Noah reflects on what he thought would be faster in life: “I think the slowest thing that’s taken a lot of work that I thought would be faster is my character.” At every stage—teenage years, young adult, mid-twenties, now approaching thirties—he thought he was farther along than he really was. “I underestimated the amount of work in discipline and honestly partnership with the Spirit of God to move me into a person replicating the kingdom of God.” Looking back, he sees he wasn’t nearly as patient, loving, or kind as he thought. Character is built slowly, and you only realize how much work remains with time. Busyness is the Americanized metric for success—and it’s backwards. (20:54) Noah critiques the cultural reflex: when you ask someone how they’re doing, the answer is “busy.” Being busy has become a status symbol in Orange County—if you’re busy, you must be doing well. But the actual ideal? “Not doing anything. It’s like chilling and having so much money that you can just do whatever you want.” Both extremes are wrong. Somewhere between hustle culture and idle wealth is the real answer—work as gift, not curse or identity. The Genesis story shows Adam and Eve given work to tend the garden before the fall. Work isn’t evil, and it’s not everything. It’s something God designed us for. Work your youth away, and your character won’t change on a dime. (23:22) Noah observes the modern trap: “I will work and it will be my identity. And it will be my everything. And then after I work my youth away, make enough money, and then in my old age, somehow my character is going to change on a dime.” He points to multi-billionaires who never retire despite having more money and power than they could ever want. There’s an illusion there—of success, of satisfaction. If you build your life around work now, retirement won’t magically fix you. The person you’re becoming in the grind is the person you’ll be at the end. Character doesn’t reset. The days are long, the years are short—and parenting is a practice in patience. (25:45) Every parent knows the saying, but Noah unpacks what it actually means: “Parenting is a tension of patience in multiple ways. It’s the patience of being with your child as they’re throwing a tantrum while also being patient and knowing that you’re present with a child while having to do a hundred other things.” You can’t just drag your kids through life like luggage. They’re more like a garden—stationary, needing tending, requiring you to slow down and put down roots. People who moved around constantly as kids rarely speak of it positively. Deep-rooted, long-term stability matters for children. When everything seems to be failing, you might be missing what God is actually doing. (36:47) Six to eight months into rebuilding a post-COVID youth ministry, Noah and his team were doing everything right—but the numbers kept shrinking. His coordinator said, “We’re doing everything right and it just seems to not be working.” That same week, the ministry was the smallest it had ever been. But that night, a girl and her dad showed up late, encountered God, and she found the friend she’d been praying for. Noah learned: “If I was only focused on the end, I would have missed that.” The 170 kids who eventually came took two years of grinding, gardening, and trusting God does the growth. But the real fruit was in the small, seemingly insignificant moments along the way. You don’t grow alone—there’s no such thing as spiritual formation in isolation. (41:17) Youth ministry taught Noah a fundamental truth: “We do not grow alone. There’s no such thing as growing alone.” As a youth pastor, you realize you’re limited—you need leaders who take time out of their lives to pour into the next generation. Formation happens in community. The African proverb holds: “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” Noah rejects the myth of the self-made man. Somewhere along the way, someone helped you—whether it was someone cleaning bathrooms so you could focus elsewhere or a business partner investing alongside you. Both had equal benefit. Formation is done together. Reading the ancients reveals you’re rarely as novel as you think. (51:26) Noah’s love for Jesus has made him curious about the church across thousands of years. What he’s found: “There’s very rarely something new under the sun that I’m thinking about, and that I’m not novel.” When he reads ancient writers, they critique him—and they’re dead, which makes it both hard and lovely. Americans think they’re progressive, pushing the timeline forward. But when you read history, you realize: “There are things that they did do wrong and have done wrong, and there are things that we are doing wrong currently, and things that they were actually more enlightened in than we are today.” Humility comes from reading people and realizing you’re not the smartest person who’s ever existed. Humility means listening to those who’ve gone somewhere you haven’t. (31:11) Noah describes his current season: “I’m having to humble myself and learn humility well, and listen to those who have gone before me and to trust that they may actually have gone somewhere that I haven’t gone yet.” There’s something in him that doesn’t always want to listen to someone older—that’s pride. The work is stopping, considering, and taking correction or guidance from an older person who says, “Hey, I’ve been here a little bit longer than you. Press the brakes in your early career.” Not passive, always pouring back in—but humble enough to receive wisdom from those ahead on the path. Children teach you humility—they have nothing to offer but dependence. (34:01) In Jesus’ time, children weren’t elevated like today—they were looked down on because they couldn’t offer society anything. But Jesus says we must come to Him like children. Noah sees it in his daughter: “She’ll stop and she’ll look at something and she’s like amused by it and she’s enjoying it and she’ll like so present.” The humility is stopping with her, sitting in the grass, not rushing her along. “There’s a humility to stop with her and just to sit in the grass and like yeah this is good.” Children model total dependence, openness, presence—exactly what Jesus calls us to. The hard question: where is the world going as a dad? (56:50) Noah wrestles with an existential anxiety that’s intensified since becoming a father: “Where is the world going?” It’s a question that gives him anxiety, burning in the background all the time. He doesn’t have an answer to the future except this: “Jesus will return and Jesus will be victorious and all the things that I’m worrying about right now there will be a coming age of the kingdom of God.” How much control does he have over big tech, governments, wars—or even his own life? He has to run to Jesus multiple times a week, sometimes multiple times a night lying in bed. The only anchor is trusting the one who holds the future. * You’re not apathetic just because you can’t change everything. (1:00:39) Matt shares his struggle with indifference in the face of massive problems—if he can’t solve world-scale issues, why try? Noah pushes back: “You do have an ability to make change through your individual life.” There’s a desire in our culture—fueled by social media and overwhelming information—to become apathetic. “I can’t change, so why even try.” But there’s something deeply Christian about saying: “The kingdom of heaven is now. So I should take action. I should be moving as a father, as a brother, as a sister, as somebody in this world who needs to bring righteousness and justice into the world.” Even small individual action matters. Apathy isn’t faithfulness. * Your small daily decisions shape where the world is going. (1:00:13) Matt connects the big question to the small one: “It’s all related to the same—where is the world going? Oh, it is going in the direction of the decisions that I make today about my family.” When he pulls the scope out, he realizes: if he wants to see change in the world, it starts with being the example of that change. We learn by the habits of people around us. If you want your kids to embody something, you have to live it. The Holy Spirit does the work, but your daily choices create the soil where growth happens. The world’s trajectory is shaped by millions of small, faithful decisions. * Suffering can produce great beauty—but that doesn’t make the suffering good. (1:04:31) Noah reflects on Dietrich Bonhoeffer—would we have his books without the Nazis? It’s a hard question. History shows that sometimes suffering produces something profound. “Not to say by the way the genocide is good suffering—like no, evil, wrong—but in the midst of a great tragedy something can be made.” He’s careful to hold the tension: suffering isn’t good, but God can bring beauty out of it. “I have found and history tells that sometimes suffering produces a great thing and the benefit on the other end of it is beautiful.” The pruning is painful, but it produces fruit you wouldn’t have otherwise. * His wedding day taught him to enjoy fleeting moments. (1:08:49) When asked about a top-of-the-world moment, Noah chooses his wedding day. What it taught him: “Enjoy the moment. Enjoy every moment of it because I would hear all the time it’s fleeting.” Now, years into marriage, he looks back at pictures trying to remember what it felt like. The sweetness of that day is gone in one sense—but the lesson remains. Pay attention. Be present. The moment won’t come back. And for the valley moments? “It will pass. You just have to walk through it. And probably will be painful, but it will pass.” This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit mattheisler.substack.com [https://mattheisler.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

How A Few Simple Rules Have Shaped Jake Hartson's Parenting

Description Jake Hartson is a husband, father, veteran, and entrepreneur who recently transitioned into full-time ministry with Search Ministries, an organization that helps Christians and their friends give space to work through life’s biggest questions He shares the tension of “mission first, people always”—a military value he watched fail in ministry contexts where mission became an excuse to forsake loving people well. He opens up about fatherhood as his greatest challenge, the question “what does love require?” that guides his parenting, and why he wants his kids to inherit his curiosity and his wife Kinsey’s empathy. We discuss navigating transitions by starting with why, the hard work of setting boundaries after the military handed them to him for years, and how he’s learning that submission in marriage starts with leading well, not demanding compliance. Enjoy. Lessons from Jake Hartson “I’m willing to go, so why not me?” (9:18) The military gave him the discipline his chaotic mind needed. (13:29) Lead by influence when you can’t lead by authority. (14:17) Collaboration builds better plans—and better teams. (16:36) Training to think like the enemy makes you better at your mission. (21:16) “Mission first, people always” only works if people actually come first. (27:48) In most contexts, it should be “people first, mission always.” (31:05) Fatherhood is his greatest challenge because there’s no playbook. (32:13) “What does love require?” cuts through the complexity. (35:03) The early years are more formational than we realize. (35:52) Your parenting reveals itself in your kids—but you can’t always tell what’s you and what’s them. (37:12) The goal is a relationship that lasts beyond childhood. (38:48) Eye contact is the most important thing you can give young kids. (42:44) He wants his kids to have his curiosity and Kinsey’s empathy. (45:17) Start with why, then say no to everything else. (50:29) This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit mattheisler.substack.com [https://mattheisler.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]