Muchos mensajes, análisis y comentarios como este, asegurando que las pandillas de Haití no son como las de El Salvador; que son sanguinarias, que están fuertemente armadas, que nadie ha podido vencerlas, que todas las misiones han fracasado, que estamos cayendo en una trampa, que no sabemos a lo que nos enfrentamos, que será nuestra ruina, que vamos camino a nuestro Waterloo. Pero cuando Dios nos conceda la victoria, los mismos que hoy dicen todo eso cambiarán su discurso. Dirán que siempre fue fácil, que cualquiera podía hacerlo, que las pandillas de Haití no eran tan peligrosas como se pensaba. En fin, nunca los hemos escuchado y no vamos a empezar ahora. Todos los que se han enlistado son creyentes y hemos encomendado esta misión a Dios, mientras que las pandillas de Haití son satánicas y es de conocimiento público que hacen sacrificios humanos. Dios nos concederá la victoria. El Creador del Universo está con nosotros. Deuteronomio 28:7 “Jehová derrotará a tus enemigos que se levantaren contra ti; por un camino saldrán contra ti, y por siete caminos huirán de delante de ti”.

More Than A Marathon On A Wharf For nearly 12 hours, the Capitola Wharf became a moving interview studio as I filmed for more than 20 miles, primarily walking backwards. @rizautile and @IanUtile (my dad) had invited people to join them for the Capitola Wharf Marathon as they set out to walk a full marathon along our local pier built in 1857. They wanted to live stream their friends’ stories while encouraging donations to the local Peoples Pantry that feeds hundreds of families per week. This memorable day brought together people who lead small businesses, city government, and local communities. Albert Wright opened the morning by sounding a shofar, an instrumental ram’s horn about three feet long, as the sun glistened behind him on the Pacific Ocean. He has been showing up for important moments in our family’s lives for the last decade, and this was how we wanted to begin another one. I was excited to meet people and learn from an experienced media team, having helped at similar events before, but filming while communicating through a headset with a router in my backpack provided an exciting new challenge. These articles reveal some of the things that stuck with me over the last couple weeks from the conversations that went on as the day unfolded. I hope to not only show the passion in these attendees for the purpose they’ve dedicated their lives to, but the impact, and what this means for each of us. After the echo of the shofar faded across the water, my dad cast the vision for the day: “Let’s walk!”

Small Business Culture Can Impact Local Community When the Santa Cruz wildfires forced people from their homes in 2020, Jeremy Schmidt turned a grocery store parking lot into a place where his neighbors could come for a free dinner. After tending to his own family, Jeremy looked for ways to help. Some people needed somewhere to store cars during the evacuation, so he made space at his auto-repair shop. Others were forced to stay in hotels and fall back to eating out, which led him to cook food for his neighbors. He went to Costco to buy meat, and then let people know when to meet together. On some of those nights during the fires, his community lined up in a random parking lot to eat together. “I saw a need, so I wanted to fill it,” he told my dad (@IanUtile) during their conversation at the Capitola Wharf Marathon. That concern for people also appears in how Jeremy describes running AE Motorsports (and now his second shop, Nate Smith’s Optimal Auto). Customer service and employee happiness are priorities in his business culture. Yet he acknowledges it must stay financially healthy enough to provide his staff with options like healthcare and retirement. The community meals and the employee benefits are separate ways to fill a visible need, but both required Jeremy to put forth the effort to turn what mattered to him into something people could actually receive. In the middle of an anxious time, that included offering his auto-repair shop space, his ability to cook, and the resources he had to meet tangible needs around him. In our day-to-day lives, how can we respond in ways that make our personal culture felt to those around us?

Today I turn 88…I’ve seen some serious shit. The most serious of it all is love. I love my family, my friends, and my wonderful fans. The power of love remains.

Tonight’s sunset was beautiful 🌅

Recognizing What Needs To Change Stewart has dedicated himself to curing the fatherless epidemic through his organization Man 2 Man. I was filming Stewart while @IanUtile (my dad) interviewed him during the Capitola Wharf Marathon, and this specific example gives me something to consider beyond the apology itself: how someone begins questioning behavior they’ve accepted internally as normal. Through his work, Stewart teaches men, including those in San Quentin prison, things like fatherhood, managing emotions, and conflict resolution. He connects that work to his Christian faith and the belief that who these men have learned to be through life isn’t necessarily who God has created them to be. What stayed with me was the connection between how a man understands himself and how he chooses to treat others. Our identity stems from multiple factors, with the opinions of people around us often influencing what we believe about ourselves more than our own perception of who we are. Yet there will always be those who approve of what we do, and those who’ll dislike us no matter what. Meaning that what is left for us to decide is who we personally aim to become. In this story, by recognizing his behavior, this man’s wife experienced a response that was truly different. Though Stewart still encourages the men to “give yourself time—because it took you some time to get here”. We are destined to make mistakes—that is simply part of the human condition—but it doesn’t make transformation impossible. As a result, what makes this worth sharing isn’t that from there on it was unicorns and rainbows, but that through taking responsibility for his behavior, this man has improved his relationships by setting his eyes on something specific to change. How do we begin changing behavior we haven’t yet recognized as harmful?

A Different Story for His Children Holding his baby daughter in the middle of the night, Jerry Morales realized that unless he changed, he was going to hurt someone he already loved. As Jerry put it, “I felt like I was holding something so beautiful, but my hands were so stained.” He wanted to be a different father from the one he had growing up. Yet he had also seen his father change through faith, enough to believe God’s love is capable of transformation. Remembering that example brought Jerry back to a Duke of Earl play at a Victory Outreach that touched Jerry’s heart in the vulnerable storytelling of the men acting. Led by this touching memory, Jerry began visiting the church and seeking help. By the time he joined @IanUtile (my dad) for the Capitola Wharf Marathon, Jerry had nearly thirty years of sobriety under his belt, and also recently walked that same daughter down the aisle to perform her wedding ceremony. That’s a future he hadn’t been able to see when she was small. His family’s life had grown around serving others. Children learned to share their food and space with people who needed help, and Jerry now pastors a Victory Outreach himself, speaking openly about his mistakes, but always joyfully followed by the grace that has shaped his story. That gives his message about second chances something more personal than a set of instructions. He knows what it is to need help–that’s just the reality. But Jerry has turned the depths of his life into the launching pad for those around him. The daughter who once gave him a reason to seek growth became someone he could stand beside on her wedding day. What change could be made today to create new possibilities for the people we love?

A Business Out of Reach, a Community Within Reach When the Capitola Wharf reopened, Tina Williams didn’t simply get the old business back. Boats that had sat beyond reach were rotting, and her family’s fleet of 24 had dwindled to roughly half that number by the time of our interview. The wharf collapse after a violent storm had cut off Capitola Boat and Bait and left its employees without jobs. Restoring access was essential, yet it couldn’t reverse the losses or replace the income people needed during the closure. So instead of giving up to wait for reopening, the family deliberately organized hot-dog sales, raffles, and a spaghetti dinner to rally people together for employees who'd lost their income. “And then the community surrounded us–they helped us,” Tina shared with @IanUtile (my dad) during her interview at the Capitola Wharf Marathon. Tina and her brother David took over running the shop when it reopened in August 2024, and customers returned with their own history of the place. Adults reminisced about fishing with their grandparents, while little kids came back each summer asking whether the staff remembered them. Those relationships reveal the reality of the value this location has locally, and often it's the simple moments like a spaghetti dinner that preserve what a place families want to return to really looks like. How do you keep a business’s community intact when the business itself is out of reach?

The Sermon He Couldn’t Finish After decades in ministry, Pastor Tyrone Partee couldn’t finish the eulogy for the man who had been a father to him. He returned to the moment where he’d reached the word “sacrifice,” but it would hit him—bringing the sermon to an end. During his interview with @IanUtile (my dad) at the Capitola Wharf Marathon, Tyrone opened up to say that his biological father had lived just 14 blocks away, yet without being involved in his life. “But God gave me a spiritual father,” he said with triumph in his voice. Another man willingly chose to give his time and example. Even when Tyrone wasn’t interested in listening, “that didn’t stop him from making deposits,” he recalled. Yet there was another detail in the story: the man Tyrone calls his spiritual father wasn’t a Christian. Even though they didn’t share a faith, his example of generosity is something Tyrone never forgot when he entered Christian ministry. For Tyrone, mentoring means staying involved when mistakes are made, while still helping someone take responsibility and change. He’d answer calls in the middle of the night and find ways to show grace without excusing what has been done. At Bay Area Maranatha Christian Center, which he leads with his wife, Alicia, he encourages people to take that responsibility for others. His spiritual father had given him an example of that persistence long before Tyrone could fully appreciate it. When Tyrone reached the word “sacrifice” at the eulogy, he was remembering someone who had kept giving even when he wasn’t listening. Who has patiently invested in us, and how could we offer that same care to someone else?

The Help Was Already There Fires hit Santa Cruz County when Veronica was nine months pregnant, and she remembers churches opening their doors to help. Yet even with people willing to serve, the support churches already work hard to give couldn’t be as effective without collaboration. As Veronica explained, “there was a response, but it wasn’t as coordinated as it could have been.” During the Capitola Wharf Marathon, she described to @IanUtile (my dad) a problem that easily gets overlooked: having resources in a community doesn’t mean people know where to find them. Through Transforming the Bay with Christ, Veronica helps connect churches across 11 Bay Area counties. Part of that work is helping churches move from simply knowing one another to partnering together, including preparing for future disasters. She created a survey asking churches to identify resources like childcare, food, mental-health support, and mobile showers so that they can be organized and shared. This means families wouldn’t have to depend on whether they happened to ask the right person first. Churches could direct people to help beyond what their own congregation provides, and county responders could better understand what was available. The willingness to help was already there during the fires. Veronica’s work gives that willingness somewhere to go before another emergency puts everyone under pressure. Sometimes the most useful thing we can offer is knowing who can meet a need we can’t fill ourselves. Who could we work with to make both our efforts more effective?

Does It Have to Be Perfect to Begin? Benji’s team launched a training program before it was finished—“building on the fly,” as he put it, hoping for even just 100 participants. He told @IanUtile (my dad) during the Capitola Wharf Marathon that they had already been considering online training when the pandemic shutdown accelerated the idea that ended up becoming the Ecclesia Accelerator. The ten-week program helps Christians consider how their faith can influence the places they already belong, beginning close with their personal lives and families, then extending out into their work and wider communities. Benji defined that purpose in very ordinary terms, including someone sweeping a hotel floor or picking up garbage. In his view, a person’s internal passion can shape how they serve there, without needing a different job or a more visible position first. The ambition to reach people around the world began with helping individuals act where they were. Online training gave that teaching a way to travel, and the program eventually became available in multiple languages. Explaining their original goal, he shared, “When we first launched, it was to try to believe God for 100 people.” Benji now says more than 20,000 people have come through the program—that’s a whole lot more than 100. What ideas are we waiting to perfect when we could start putting them into practice now?

Passing the Crisis Is Only Step One Finding a child who’s gone missing may end the search, but it does not erase the circumstances that have put them at risk in the first place. During the Capitola Wharf Marathon, Anita explained Finding Kids to @IanUtile (my dad). Going on to describe an organization that helps locate missing children and supports them after they return. The work began when its founder learned about a missing child and hired a private investigator to help find them. What started with one child grew into an organization that, Anita said, had helped recover more than 360 children. But returning home doesn’t automatically give a child the relationships or stability they need. Anita emphasized how predators can exploit someone’s need for attention and connection, which makes the continued support especially important after initial recovery. Finding Kids offers therapy and tutoring, but Anita also mentioned swimming and singing lessons. As she explained, “We want to connect children with their passions again.” Those activities give children something to look forward to while rebuilding their lives. Swimming lessons may seem far removed from the urgency of finding a missing child, but they connect to the long-term commitment to that child’s future. Continuing with care after the search means properly valuing the relationships, interests, and stability a child needs to keep moving forward. How can we keep supporting someone after helping them take the first step out of a crisis?

What We Already Have to Give Restoring a whole apartment building on a cliff was already a demanding commitment for Mike Schwenne’s family, but they still found ways for it to benefit others around them. During the Capitola Wharf Marathon, Mike told @IanUtile (my dad) about the work behind a property that people had warned him could fall into the ocean. He consulted engineers and took on the restoration, with his family helping turn a fragile project into something spectacular again. While construction continued, two furnished apartments housed guests who came to rest or help in the community. Mike also offered local people in his network a few nights there without charge. He described it as the Lord providing while they were “just holding the door.” Additionally, since the neighbors had also lived alongside the disruption of the construction, an open house gave them a chance to come inside and see what beauty had come from what to them might have been just an inconvenience. Inviting them in built community instead of holding them to look over the fence. Making room for others can begin in simple ways. By sharing what was already available, Mike’s family created ways to benefit people before the whole job was done. Whether it’s as big as an apartment on the cliff or just giving old clothes away to Goodwill, what do we already have that could help someone else today?

What Happens After People Show Up? More than 5,000 people came to a family event Mark Schwenne had helped organize, far beyond the 1,000 or 1,500 they expected. Yet the weeks afterward gave him a different measure of whether it had worked. He recounted to @IanUtile (my dad) at the Capitola Wharf Marathon that new people began attending church after the event, but within a few weeks attendance had returned to normal. Mark’s concern was that the teaching assumed a familiarity with Christianity even though newcomers might not understand the way things are done and said yet. He wanted churches to begin with the basics. He advocated that they should “teach them—encourage them—show them the truth.” That experience helped lead to his interest in making churches easier to get to know. With Jesse West, he was working on Church Santa Cruz, a website built as a catalog of local churches with short videos for viewers to get a glimpse without dedicating their Sunday morning. Hearing someone speak could help a visitor understand who they might meet before walking through the door. A large audience is exciting—especially when it gathers around something we care about. But getting someone’s attention is only the start of what is now the responsibility to help them find their place. Mark’s experience raises a question that reaches well beyond a church event. How can we help someone feel included after they’ve accepted our invitation?

A Duty to Every Voice Older residents were dealing with children pounding on their doors in the middle of the night. When an email reached Gerry Jensen, he took immediate action. Gerry shared that example with @IanUtile (my dad) at the Capitola Wharf Marathon, where he spoke as the city’s vice mayor about the responsibility to follow through when someone asks for help. He contacted the police chief, an officer came to the neighborhood, and the residents were able to learn that the children were identified and their parents contacted. For Gerry, being accessible carries a responsibility to respond. “I think our follow-through is so important,” he explained. Helping someone find an answer or reach the right person can give them a reason to believe their involvement matters. He also described responding to emails from residents who were upset about an issue and inviting them to freely participate in his community meetings. In line with this style, Gerry offers those conversations to invite the things people were unhappy about. Hearing that everything was going well is destined to leave concerns unspoken. That gives being accessible a practical meaning because someone can reach out, receive a response, and learn what action has been taken. Even if a concern isn’t ours to answer, we may know who can help. Following through gives the person who asked something more useful than an invitation to “contact us”. In the end, how can we show people that their concerns are welcome, even if we don’t agree?

Learning to Care by Being Cared For What my grandpa appreciates about Pastor Dave Campbell is his willingness to be there. My dad talked about hospital visits, counseling, weddings, and funerals—different moments in people’s lives that call for someone who cares. Dave pastors Calvary Chapel Capitola, my grandparents’ church. When he joined @IanUtile (my dad) at the Capitola Wharf Marathon, that family connection gave us a place to begin. The conversation also showed how the care my grandpa appreciated could extend beyond one pastor. Together with his wife, Rose, Dave spent years serving in church life, with more and more opportunities to teach and lead along the way. When describing his community, he chose to focus on how people are welcomed. Putting that invitation into words: “We want to talk to you, we want to love you, we want to welcome you, we want to embrace you with warmth.” He joyfully highlighted that those who receive that care begin offering it to newcomers themselves, because in a community, care should reach beyond what one pastor personally does. The visits and conversations my grandpa appreciated show what being available can mean to someone. Dave pointed out what can happen when the example spreads: the people being welcomed become people who welcome others—the love is meant to spread. How can we use the example of someone who personally made us feel included to help the next person find their place?