Turning 40, a Riverside Lodge, and a Relentless Pursuit

Hey Beloved,

A quick catch-up before we dive in

The past month has been full of movement and meaning:

I took a cruise with my family
watched my kids run wild,
had more soft serve than I care to admit,
and remembered how good it feels to just play.…
 
Then spent a week in Montana and Wyoming at a place called Refuge,
a place I return to every year to slow down and remember who I am…and catch fish.

Oh—and I turned 40. 👀
Still letting that settle in.

But alongside the celebration and reflection,
something else has been stirring.

A pursuit that won’t leave me alone.

The Thing That Won’t Let Go

Years ago—before I had any real language for it and before I was in the “hospitality” space—I told people I wanted to one day buy a lodge.

Not for status or success.
But to create something that feels like home.

A place where people could come and feel deeply rested,
welcomed, maybe even restored.

I didn’t have a plan. Just a little vision.

Now I find myself in the middle of it
Walking a property. Making the calls. Seeking investors.
Running the numbers. Taking the risk.

Some days I feel brave.
Other days I hear the whisper:

But the pull hasn’t gone away.
And honestly, I hope it never does.

Because even with the fear and uncertainty,
...there’s a quiet sense that this is a sacred yes.

And that’s where hospitality comes in—not the industry, but the heart behind it.

Redemptive Hospitality

I talk a lot about hospitality.
Not as a service industry thing.
But as a way of being—of making people feel seen, safe, and valued.

But lately, the word that keeps rising to the surface is this:

Redemptive Hospitality

Redemptive Hospitality isn’t about showing off.
It’s not about being impressive.
It’s about creating space where something can be restored.

It’s quiet. Subtle.
but powerful.

It’s not just a warm welcome.
it’s a new story being told.

And I believe this lodge could be a place like that.
A place where weary people remember who they are.
Where leaders rest.
Where grace is woven into the details.
Where welcome is not a gesture—
but a healing.

And here’s the thing:
I don’t feel especially qualified.  
I don’t have everything lined up.  
But I keep returning to one story that gives me courage.

Fishes and Loaves

There’s this story in John 6.

A crowd is hungry. There’s no food.
And a boy steps forward with what little he has
five loaves and two fish.

It’s not enough. Not even close.

But he offers it anyway.

And Jesus takes that small offering and multiplies it
not just enough to feed the crowd,
but more than enough.

That’s what this season feels like to me.

Not confident. Not overflowing.
Just willing.

With offering what you have, even if it doesn’t feel like much.
And trusting that maybe—just maybe—God will do something with it.

Maybe You’re in a Pursuit Too

Not all pursuits are loud.
Some begin as a whisper.
A dream you barely say out loud.

Maybe yours doesn’t look like a lodge.
But if it scares you a little and stirs you a lot…
it might be worth trusting.

You don’t have to be certain.
You just have to be willing.

So this week, if you’re holding something small,
a lunchbox dream, a quiet yes—offer it.

It might be exactly what the moment needs.

With you in the mystery,
Nathan

P.S.
If you’re building something—anything—and want it rooted in hospitality that’s more than surface-level…

Let’s talk.

I help leaders and organizations create guest experiences and team cultures
that feel thoughtful, generous, and redemptive.

👉 Click here to connect.

You bring the loaves.
I’ll bring the maps.
Let’s see what multiplies.


P.P.S. Curious about this lodge pursuit?! I am seeking a small group of investors and co-conspirators who want to take a historic riverside lodge in Oregon and make it a flagship place for redemptive hospitality. I’d love to share the vision, just reply back.