One Minute Later With Craig

Some weeks don’t ease in… they stack up. A furnace motor dies at the worst possible time. A nearly new TV stops cooperating. A kitchen appliance starts beeping like it’s trying to say its final words. Add in an ER visit, a looming bill, and a truck that decides it needs attention too—and suddenly it’s more than just a bad day. It’s one thing after another. In this episode, Craig walks through a week where everything seemed to pile up, and the quiet, honest question that comes with it: “Really, God?” Looking at Job 1:16 and Psalm 46:1, this story doesn’t rush to fix the moment—but it does point to something steady in the middle of it. If you’ve ever felt like life isn’t taking turns… this one’s for you.

At his son Gavin’s middle school band concert, Craig notices a few things while sitting in the auditorium waiting for the music to start. There’s the guy who arrives early and somehow turns the entire room into his personal conversation circle. There’s the realization that folded arms now rest comfortably on top of Craig’s stomach. And there are the glowing phone screens scattered throughout the crowd… even while the kids are on stage playing. But somewhere between the sixth grade band, the seventh grade percussion section, and a room full of distracted parents, Craig realizes something about moments we assume will always be there. And the quiet gift God may be handing us while we’re not even paying attention.

Sunday night was quiet. Ordinary. The kind of stillness you don’t think twice about. Then the room shifted. A blood sugar check. A blood pressure reading that demanded attention. A late-night drive to the ER just a few blocks from home. Wires on my chest. Machines humming in the dark. The tests came back clear. The numbers settled. But somewhere between the spike and the sunrise, something deeper surfaced — doubt. The kind that creeps in when you’re vulnerable and tired and staring at ceiling tiles at 2 a.m. In this episode of One Minute Later, I share the story of a medical scare that turned into a quiet battle in my thoughts — and the steady truth that held when everything else felt shaky.

What’s it really like to talk into a microphone knowing someone listening might be having the best day of their life… or the worst? In this episode of One Minute Later, Craig pulls back the curtain on Christian radio—not to complain or defend, but to explain the tension, the intention, and the humanity behind the mic. From listener feedback (the encouraging and the hard-to-hear) to the unseen work that goes into every show, this is an honest look at trying to serve people you can’t see, with imperfect words and good intentions. It’s a conversation about discernment, second-guessing, family boundaries, and why even a short message—when it lands at the right time—can matter more than we realize.

Somewhere between the Dr Pepper aisle and the checkout line, I realized our grocery cart was telling on us. This episode starts in a small rural grocery store and ends in a much bigger place— what it really means to be “the house.” The one kids linger in. The one that feels steady. The one where nobody’s hiding. Along the way, I share a few moments that changed how I see our home, our neighborhood, and the quiet responsibility that comes with having an open door. No big speeches. Just a real story about ordinary houses—and why they matter more than we think.

My kids choose YouTube over TV almost every time. And for a while, that bothered me more than I wanted to admit. This episode isn’t about screen-time rules or defending the internet. It’s about noticing what our kids are reaching for when things get quiet — and what our responsibility is as parents when the world they’re growing up in looks nothing like the one we knew. No prescriptions. No panic. Just a parent thinking out loud and trying to stay close

On New Year’s Eve, Craig had a plan. Football. Food that lives in baskets. A night built around the College Football Playoff. Then something unexpected happened in the living room. In this episode, Craig talks about missing part of the game and gaining something better—an unscheduled moment with his wife and daughters that reminded him how easily joy can sit right in front of us while we’re focused somewhere else. This isn’t a lecture. It’s a story about attention, timing, and learning—sometimes the hard way—that the best moments don’t ask for the remote.

When I get overwhelmed, I don’t raise my voice. I disappear. This episode is about what that silence sounds like to the people who love you, especially your kids. It’s about the moment I realized my quiet wasn’t neutral, and how one simple signal helped me stay present even when my nervous system shut everything down. Just a real moment from our house, and the small change that shifted the fear in the room.

When Craig’s eight-year-old daughter walks into the living room, takes one look at the Christmas tree, and declares, “It’s not Christmas,” he realizes she’s not talking about presents or decorations. She’s talking about the missing star— and the missing hope so many of us feel this time of year. In this episode of One Minute Later, Craig explores why the biblical Christmas story didn’t arrive in a peaceful world, and why that matters now more than ever. From cultural tension and broken relationships to division inside the church, he shares how the original Star of Bethlehem wasn’t meant to decorate anything…it was meant to defy the darkness.

In this Christmas episode, Craig returns to the tradition that officially launched the holiday season in his childhood: his mom’s massive, meticulously arranged Department 56 village… and the year he and his brother staged a full-scale military invasion on it. What starts as a hilarious trip down memory lane slowly bumps into the present—fifteen totes still sitting in the basement, a tradition waiting for time that never seems to come, and the quiet realization that the memories are worth the mess. Honest, warm, a little chaotic, and very Christmas… just like the village itself.

This week, Craig dives into the wild world of Christmas lists—past and present. From his childhood dream of a Nintendo he never got, to his kids circling practically everything in the Amazon toy catalog, to the very specific gifting styles of both grandmas… and of course, Uncle Roger’s annual delivery of holiday-themed noise machines engineered in the depths of chaos. It’s a story about lists, surprises (or lack thereof), and the quirks that shape the traditions our kids will remember long after the batteries die.

Craig thought hosting his daughter’s first tween sleepover would be simple—maybe loud, maybe sticky, but manageable. What he got instead was a full-scale girl-powered cyclone involving candy, high-frequency shrieks, attempted feline costume fittings, and one very illegal walk across the sofa. Left alone while Jen was called into work, Craig finds himself negotiating chaos, protecting household furniture, and hiding in his bedroom to avoid saying something that lands him on a parenting blog. Somewhere in the madness, though… something like patience starts to grow. Or maybe that’s just survival. A funny, honest, slightly unhinged look at the moments that stretch us—and the God who sits with us even when the cat is filing an HR complaint.

After swearing off ever owning another dog, Craig somehow ends up with Maggie — part Jack Russell Terrier, part passive-aggressive gremlin. What follows is a household full of fur, attitude, and a cat with royal ambitions. Between the stubborn dog, the unneutered kitten, and a queen who claims her throne (and a load of laundry), Craig discovers that love isn’t always neat or noble… but it’s always worth cleaning up after.

Craig’s surrounded by pumpkin guts, power tools, and one skeleton that refuses to stand up straight. But somewhere in the chaos of carving twenty pumpkins and building a tiny town in his front yard, he rediscovers what joy looks like— especially when the trick-or-treaters arrive. A funny, honest behind-the-scenes look at how one man’s ridiculous October project turns into a reminder of community, childhood, and the quiet ways we can pass hope along.

Out here, the sound of harvest isn’t background noise — it’s a reminder that patience, faith, and hard work are still alive and well in the Heartland. Craig reflects on what he’s learning from the farmers all around him — their humor, humility, and quiet dependence on God when the outcome’s out of their hands. It’s a funny, thoughtful look at life surrounded by combines, cornfields, and the kind of faith that still shows up in the dark when the weather’s right.

I grew up in a small Michigan town where the loudest sound at night was a chorus of crickets — and the most serious crime was a missing garden gnome. Life eventually took me from that quiet place to the big city of Columbus, where I worked in Christian radio and thought I’d “made it.” But everything changed once Jen and I had our first child — and especially the morning the SWAT team showed up next door. That’s when we knew it was time to trade city sirens for something simpler. Now we’re in the heartland of Kansas, where my kids can ride their bikes down the street, and yes — there’s still an ice cream truck that actually plays music. This episode is about learning where “home” really is… and why I wouldn’t trade the heartland for anywhere else.

After two weeks of silence, Craig returns with one of his most personal episodes yet. In the wake of the Charlie Kirk incident, he wrestles with the difference between anger and hate—and how easily one can bleed into the other. From raw reactions to biblical examples, from a family Facebook debate to the grounding perspective of the heartland, Craig explores what it means to feel anger without letting it consume you. Because anger can fuel justice. But hate only burns.

Craig’s life lately feels like one long obstacle course. From his wife’s van that only drives in reverse to endless paperwork, flooded basements, and hacked debit cards, every step forward has meant another wall waiting. In this funny and honest episode of One Minute Later, Craig shares what it’s like to face setback after setback, where God shows up in the middle of it all, and a few practical ways to keep climbing when life stacks the walls against you.

When Minecraft becomes a war zone, and air vents turn into battlegrounds, two sisters wage digital warfare across the house. What starts as a sibling squabble stumbles into something deeper about fairness, control, and the sound of stomping in a 100-year-old house.

Your house is spotless. The counters shine, the floors sparkle. You feel like you could host HGTV at any moment. Then… one minute later? It looks like a natural disaster zone. Juice boxes fossilized into the carpet. Blanket forts taking over the living room. Legos everywhere like a minefield. In this episode of One Minute Later, Craig takes us from the chaos of modern parenting back to Moses, Noah, and King David—because even Biblical parents were stepping on crumbs, dodging goats, and hearing their kids say the same three lines: “Not me.” “I already cleaned it.” “It was like this when I got here.” It’s funny, it’s honest, and if your house is a disaster, you’ll feel right at home.

You believe in grace. You’ve preached it to others. Quoted the verses. Sung the songs. But when someone crosses you—hurts you, ignores you, betrays you—it’s not so easy to hand out mercy. Grudges are quieter than rage and cleaner than revenge. And if you’re not careful, they’ll start to feel righteous. In this episode, Craig gets honest about forgiveness that doesn’t come easy, the cost of bitterness, and what Jesus really meant when He said, “Forgive, or you won’t be forgiven.” This one doesn’t come wrapped in a bow—but it might just loosen the one you’ve been tied up in.

Our family is unapologetically obsessed with Bluey. Not just the kids—me and Jen too. In this episode, I map our crew to the Heeler family (yes, Gavin is basically Unicorse) and unpack why this little Australian cartoon feels truer than most parenting books. It’s messy cars, overcaffeinated dads, and those sneaky episodes—Baby Race, Camping—that catch you right in the soft spots. Halfway through, I remember something I keep forgetting: God doesn’t wait for me to be impressive. He meets me in the Cheerios and laundry piles, on the livingroom rug five minutes after I overcorrect a nine-year-old, and in the hallway outside a slammed door when I have to choose between pride and a knock. So I try a tiny restart liturgy—breathe, get low, hand on a shoulder: “Hey, I was rough. I’m sorry. Want to start over?” Not a speech. A start. If you’ve ever chosen play over pride for five minutes—this one’s for you.

Ever wondered what it’s like to be the encouraging voice on Christian radio when you’re running on fumes and unresolved emotions? Craig gets real about the unseen weight of performing peace, especially when he’s managing depression, anxiety, and a coffee spill on the mixing board. He talks candidly about the pressure to be “on,” what listeners don’t hear between the songs, and how God keeps showing up—not in the polished, presentable moments—but right in the mess.

Dinner at our house is not a meal. It's an event. One that starts with five different opinions, two conflicting schedules, and at least one child hiding under a blanket. This episode’s about the daily, soul-testing ritual of trying to feed your family without losing your mind—or your sanctification. Somewhere between thawed chicken and leftover pizza, I found something that felt strangely holy.

What happens when your front door becomes a revolving one—and you stop caring? In this debut episode, Craig reflects on the beauty and chaos of a house where friends don’t knock… they just walk in. It’s about dropping the need to look ready, and learning to live more open—even when the dishwasher’s full and the dog’s barking. Sometimes the messiest places are the most honest kind.