Rediscover who you are and live with intention.

On the northern bank of the Colorado River near my hometown of Moab, Utah, there used to be a massive tailings pile. In the 1950s, 60s, and 70s, long before tourism transformed the town, Moab was a mining community. Its main product – uranium. The mining company would extract the valuable mineral from the earth, then discard the remaining refuse into a growing mound. Over time, this became known simply as the tailings pile.

In recent years, the pile has been removed, but the land still bears the scars of extraction – a wide, open space where something precious was taken and the remnants left behind. To truly heal, we must live with intention, focusing on personal restoration.

This post isn’t about the virtues or vices of mining. It’s about us – about society, and the way life shapes us.

When we’re born, we arrive with a unique set of gifts and talents. As we grow, experiences help us develop those gifts, but we also encounter voices telling us we’re not good enough, our talents are inconvenient, or that they don’t matter. Over time, we learn to sort our gifts into categories: the ones that are celebrated, and the ones that are dismissed.

When we reach our 30s, 40s, or 50s, many of us begin to realize that some of our most valuable resources – our gifts, our passions, our talents – have been extracted. To counteract this, we must intentionally reclaim our strengths. The daily grind, the expectations of others, and the weight of responsibility slowly degrade us. What remains is a shell of what we once were, like a pile of used dirt. We look at ourselves and wonder: What happened to the person I used to be? Why am I not the husband, father, provider, or leader I thought I would become?

The life we’ve been told to live often leaves us empty, desperate, anxious, and depressed.

But here’s the truth: the scars don’t have to be the end of the story.

The land by the Colorado River will heal, and so can we. Our scars are not signs of defeat, but reminders that we are still here, still capable of growth, still able to leave a legacy. Imagine the impact if every father reclaimed his gifts, lived with intention, and passed that strength on to his children. The future is not written in the scars of extraction – it is written in the courage to rebuild. Let’s rise, together, and live the life we were designed to live.