About the Author
Greetings my friend! Since you’ve found your way here, it might be a good idea for me to introduce myself!
First off, let me say “thanks for stopping by.” Whether this is your first visit or you’ve wandered through a few pages already, I’m grateful you took the time.
So, … let’s get straight to it! :-) My story starts in the heart of Ohio, where I was fortunate to be raised by parents from the Greatest Generation—folks who grew up during the Great Depression and came of age during World War II. They didn’t dwell much on what they’d been through, but you could see the weight of it in their steadiness, in the way they showed up day after day and simply did what needed doing.
Those important life lessons I picked up from my parents during the early years didn’t always settle in right away. Some of them had to follow me around for a while before I was ready to learn! But over time, through trial and reflection, they eventually found their place. I’ve come to learn that some of the greatest lessons in life don’t arrive with fanfare—they slip in quietly on ordinary days when you’re not even looking for it.
And while those lessons helped shape my character, it was the spiritual grounding in our home—and especially the example of my grandparents—that I began to understand something deeper. Church was part of the rhythm in our home, and though faith wasn’t talked about in deeply personal terms, it was present. Still, it was through my grandparents that I came to understand something deeper—a personal relationship with God. Their quiet, unwavering trust in Him made an impression that would stay with me for life.
In the years that followed, I served as a non-commissioned officer in the U.S. Army during the Reagan era and spent the greater part of my professional life in federal law enforcement. While in my law enforcement career, I had the honor of serving alongside U.S. and coalition forces in the Middle East during a critical time in our nation’s efforts abroad. Not many years later, I had the further privilege of serving as a core faculty member at the FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia.
I look back on those chapters with gratitude—not because of the titles, but because of the people I walked alongside and the responsibilities we carried together. Those times were less about career milestones and more about witnessing real courage, bearing quiet responsibility, and learning from men and women who carried burdens most people never see.
These days, we’re settled in Central Texas, surrounded by grandchildren whose laughter and curiosity brighten every corner of our lives. They remind us daily that joy can be loud and a little messy, but it is always a gift best savored in the moment. Life has slowed down just enough to reflect, to give thanks, and to recognize how much of God’s goodness has been there all along, even when we didn’t see it at the time.
I’ve learned that the most lasting lessons often come without a schedule, and that grace—thankfully—tends to be a little more patient than I deserve.
Now that I’m retired, I write to honor the life lessons that continue to shape me: lessons of faith, character, perseverance, and the quiet kind of strength that doesn’t draw attention to itself but carries on anyway.
Over the years, certain words from those far wiser than I have settled close to my heart—phrases that have shaped what I see as worth holding onto in this life. One of my favorites is captured in the quote that follows, widely attributed to D.L. Moody.
He reflected:
“Our greatest fear should not be of failure, but of succeeding at something that doesn’t really matter.”
That said, the greatest privilege of my life has been walking alongside my amazing wife for more than 36 years as we have raised our six children. They’ve been full years—full of activity, laughter, hard conversations, mismatched socks, and a healthy dose of prayer.
We had our share of sleepless nights, makeshift meals, and moments when life felt like it was running ahead of us—but also moments of deep connection that I wouldn’t trade for anything.
Some of the most sacred ground I’ve ever stood on wasn’t found in a church pew, but on the living room floor where prayers were whispered … or in the backyard where life lessons were taught between a swing on a tree and a makeshift fort.
To be clear, we didn’t always get everything right. Woven through all of it though was grace—grace in the shared laughter around the dinner table, grace in the heartfelt apologies and forgiveness embraced, and grace in the quiet, stubborn love for one another that always held the family close. Parenting didn’t come with a guidebook, but it came with purpose—and more than a little humor along the way.
Somehow, love kept showing up—steady and sure—right where it was needed most.
And now, my wife and I find ourselves looking at our grown children with gratitude and wonder, humbled by the privilege of watching them become strong, caring adults.
That line has stayed with me—because when it’s all said and done, I want to leave behind something that counts.
I don’t write as a man who’s arrived—I write as someone still learning. Still growing. Still trusting that a little encouragement, a bit of truth, and a touch of humor can make a difference.
Wyatt’s Trail was born out of that. You’ll find Cowboy reflections here—some lighthearted, some a little more pointed—and as this site continues to grow, sermons from Charles Spurgeon, reworded just enough to speak to today’s reader without losing the power they were born with. And now and then, you’ll also find stories drawn from life with our four-legged friends—faithful companions who’ve walked beside us, taught us lessons in grace, and left their paw prints on our hearts.
Some stories might make you smile. Some might stir something deeper. My prayer is that, either way, they offer you strength, encouragement, and a hope that deepens your faith and steadies the road ahead.
So, thank you again for stopping by. I'm glad you did. And if something you read here settles into your heart—I’d be honored to walk a little farther with you. Please don’t hesitate to contact me.
– Wyatt
PS – When the end of the trail comes—as it surely will for all who walk this earth—my prayer is that you and I will be able to look back and say with confidence,
“But by the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace toward me was not in vain.”
(1 Corinthians 15:10)
Contact Wyatt
Whether you have a question, a word of encouragement, or just want to say hello, you can reach us using the form to the right. You can also join the Wyatt’s Trail email list to receive occasional updates, reflections, and early book news.
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