The truth?

He’s out to separate you from yourself—pin you apart with fear and insecurity.

The moment you move toward the truth, his grip will loosen.

Most people don’t know this, but I have a twin.

No one knows he exists but me—not my parents, not my family. He’s invisible to the naked eye and he only talks to me. He usually whispers and rarely yells. He’s not attractive, healthy, athletic, or emotionally intelligent.

He likes to show up when I’m about to do something challenging or uncomfortable:

• Walking on stage with a mic.
• Making an important sales call.
• Lacing up running shoes.
• Heading out on a 4:30 a.m. bike ride.
• Or before a tough conversation with a team member.

He’s here now.

I’m on my back porch, writing. It’s cool & calm with a slight breeze stirring the neighbor’s flag. Ellie, our Retriever, is dozing nearby beside me. I feel grateful—yet my twin is lurking.

He’s asking why I bother writing every day.
He’s reminding me of all the people that won’t read this.
He’s calling to mind the professor that questioned my intelligence.

Then he gets a bit louder:

• “Only a handful of people read your stuff. Why bother?”
• “You should have made more money by now. Do something else with your time.”
• “Your family deserves more and better.”

Do you have a twin? The kind who’s invisible but can be heard? The one who creeps in late at night and feeds you questions that leave you feeling less than adequate:

• Am I a good enough parent or friend?
• Shouldn’t I have done more for them?
• My kids deserve more, don’t they?
• I'd be better if I lost 15 pounds and some wrinkles, wouldn’t I?

Funny thing—he’s never around when I’m encouraging someone else, on a brisk walk, or cycling through the country. He stays at bay when I’m deep in a positive conversation with Jennifer about our future and over coffee, or being encouraged by my dad, a sibling or my friend, Pete, on a phone call.

When he does appear, he breeds fear, doubt, and insecurity. He’s a nuisance, an energy burner, an emotional drain. I know he’s not real, but when he’s around, he feels real.

The truth? He’s out to separate you from yourself—pin you apart with fear and insecurity.

But you’ve got more to be proud of than he’ll ever admit. Blessings surround you. Strength lives within you. You're quite enough.

When he knocks, don’t crack the door.
Pray. Anchor yourself in what’s true, not the lies he’s peddling.
Call a friend who will speak life into you.
Step into motion—take action on the thing he’s trying to talk you out of.

The moment you move toward the truth, his grip will loosen.

Hoping to help you with an action step at your next overnight or day retreat, an RV visit, or as a resident in our campground.



Remain Encouraged,

Brian