You’re Either a Believer or You’re Not.

Have you ever looked at faith as a yes or no? No in between. You either believe or you don’t. Until recently, I know I hadn’t. This is my personal testimony of finding faith at 38.

This Sunday, I’m getting baptized alongside my wife and three boys. I didn’t grow up in the church. My parents were both raised Christian, but never really landed in a church when they started their life together in Dallas. They are good parents & good people. My childhood was full of love, hard work & accomplishment. Honestly, it never felt like anything was missing. And maybe that’s part of why it took me so long to come around to faith.

For most of my 20s, I looked at Christianity almost like a social-club. A place where traditional families gathered, raised good kids and built community. At the same time, I picked up on an exclusive vibe in a lot of the church settings I was exposed to. Kind of a “you belong here if we already know you” feeling. I also sat through plenty of sermons that fell on deaf ears. When I say I felt nothing in church, ever, I mean it. I never once left questioning my lack of faith. I never felt like I was resisting Christianity or running from God. I just didn’t believe. Because of that, I probably would’ve described myself as agnostic for most of my 20s & 30s.

Fast forward to the summer of 2025. Looking back, there were a handful of things over a few months that really started to shift something inside of me. The first happened at my youngest son’s end of school year party. I was talking with the dad who led his bible study group. He had invited me to join them a few weeks earlier, and I said yes. Mainly because I wanted to support my son and his friendships. The dad & I had chatted a few times before, but never really one-on-one. That day he asked me about my faith, and I gave him some version of the answer I had probably given people for years: “I didn’t grow up in a church, I guess I’ve been mostly exposed to Methodist churches and young-life. My wife is Catholic and goes sometimes, and honestly, nothing against it, but it’s just never really been a big part of my life.”

What he said next surprised me. He said, “That seems to be really common in Dallas, but where I’m from, you’re either a believer or you’re not.” Something about the definitive nature of that statement stuck with me. No in between. You either believe or you don’t. I couldn’t get it out of my head over the next few weeks.

A week or so later, on June 1, 2025, I started 75 Hard. I had wanted to do it for a couple of years but kept telling myself, “It’s not the right time.” Eventually I realized it was probably never going to be the right time, so I just started. One of the requirements is zero alcohol for 75 days, which ended up mattering more than I expected.

Then on July 4th, 2025, we received the devastating news of the flooding in the Texas Hill Country. So many families lost everything that week. One of the girls from Camp Mystic was a neighbor of ours. Another was the daughter of someone I knew from college. For a little while, it felt like the world stopped. I wanted so badly to help, and something really stood out to me. So many of the organizations with boots-on-the-ground, collecting supplies and helping however they could were churches and Christian organizations. Even back in Dallas, the local Christian community was rallying around our neighbor’s family with prayer groups, gatherings and people showing up for them.

Meanwhile, I’d open my phone and it felt like nothing but insults, blame, politics and people fighting with each other. It was gross. The contrast between the two really stuck with me. I kept thinking about the contrast. Light. Dark.

By August, I had gone more than 60 days without alcohol, easily the longest stretch of my adult life at that point. I felt incredible. Clearheaded. Healthy. Present. I don’t think not drinking somehow made me find God, but looking back, I do think removing alcohol created some space in my life. My mind felt quieter, I was thinking more clearly, and I started questioning things I had never really spent much time questioning before. My personal faith was definitely one of them.

Then in September, Charlie Kirk was assassinated. Whatever your politics are, watching someone get murdered over ideas and opinions was hard for me to process. Watching the reaction online made it even worse. People fighting, and in some cases, celebrating because they disagreed with him. Again, that same feeling stirred inside of me. Light. Dark.

By that point, my wife and I were both questioning a lot. What do we actually believe? What are we building our life around? What are we teaching our boys? What kind of men are we trying to raise? We didn’t really know where to start, but the obvious first step was to start looking for churches in our area.

In October 2025, we walked into our first service at Lakepointe East Dallas. We assumed it would be one of many “church shopping” visits. Honestly, there were things about it I didn’t think I would like. It was very nontraditional compared with the churches I had experienced before. The music was great, but it almost felt like a concert, and the sermon was live-streamed from another campus.

Then the sermon started – and it hit me in completely different way than anything I had ever experienced in church before. It was straight from the bible, explained in plain english, and so easy to relate back to real-life. It felt like a biblical TED-talk more than a sermon. My wife & I walked out after that first service, looked at each other and basically said, “This is our church.” The next week, we brought our boys with us.

Since then, Sunday church has turned into a ritual. And we’ve layered in life group, youth group, reading the Bible at home and talking about faith as a family. We’ve missed maybe one service in almost a year. But the biggest change hasn’t really been how often we go to church. It’s everything else that has changed around it. The conversations in our house. The way I think about being a husband and a dad. The way I view my local community and purpose in life. The things I prioritize.

I’m still learning a ton, and there are plenty of things I don’t fully understand, but I’ve learned one thing: Christianity isn’t just a social club. It isn’t just a place to find community, raise good kids or be around good people. And it isn’t something you inherit because your parents believed it. At some point, you have to decide what you actually believe.

That’s why that conversation at my son’s party stuck with me. The dad who said it probably has no idea how much of an impact it had on me. He challenged me to look at faith in a way I never had before. You either believe or you don’t.

For most of my life, I didn’t. Now, I do. I believe Jesus is who He said He is. He died for our sins. He rose again, and He’s coming back.