A Desperate Need for Community

My Community

This week, I had the chance to immerse myself in a community I haven’t been a part of in 30 years.

I attended my home county fair.

The facilities have changed, but the community that raised and embraced me didn’t.

I saw family, I saw friends I interact with regularly via social media, and I saw people I haven’t seen in 30 years.

The thing that stood out was that I was hugged, welcomed, and accepted.

The community embraced me.

I left this event to attend another event where the community did the same.

I had the pleasure of speaking for an organization that supplied products and services to me and my family’s dairy operations for over 45 years.

In many ways, it was another homecoming.  I saw friends, acquaintances, and industry peers whom I had grown up with, worked alongside, and engaged with throughout my entire life.

Here is the thing that makes it even more meaningful as I write these words.

I was in Ohio this week, in one of the toughest so far in my life as a father.

I was away from home as my oldest son was enduring fear for his future, concern for his health, and excruciating pain resulting in hip surgery on Wednesday.

I had a job to do and I was fully committed to doing it; spreading a message I am so driven to share: that recognizing our fears and insecurities, own how they show up, and reframing our mindsets and beliefs allows us to impact and serve people to the best of our capacity.

All the while, my community at home supported me and my wife.

My community grabbed my hand and prayed for me at dinner while the surgery, which should have been 2 hrs, hit the 4-hour mark.

A man I had never met before asked how he could pray for me before the speaking event, and I shared with him the biggest weight I was carrying, the health and safety of my son.  He prayed for me and then presented a heart note to me right before I walked on stage to speak to 400 people.

My community checked on my wife and me throughout the day on Wednesday as a horrific tragedy struck our country, and our son was entering the operating room.

My community sat with my wife in the waiting room.

My community committed to not only helping me and my wife, but also my son.

Our community is his community too.

Life without Community is Empty

When I sat with Liz Bohannon and lived out the second part of my desire for hosting a podcast, to interview her and Jeff Henderson, a challenge came to mind.

Yet it seems too soft, or inconsequential, this week.

I wanted to encourage some of you to join the Roundtable community I started years ago—a weekly Zoom cohort fashioned to help leaders grow and find a community to grow with.

That’s still available.

But it’s not enough.  It’s great, and no doubt I want to support the entire IDL community like I was supported this week, yet our needs are so much bigger than one community.

We need a community of communities.

Groups of people that, no matter what you are going through, will fly to sit by their fraternity brother who is facing terminal brain cancer.

People who will help you chase cows in their dress shoes.

People who haven’t seen you in decades strike up conversations like you just chatted last week.

People who, when they ask if there is anything they can do for you, you respond by saying ‘yeah, I need your support’ without the fear of unbalanced reciprocal weights.

People who love you despite your rough edges.

People who love you for your rough edges.

Because without those people, I’m not sure life is worth doing, simply because without them, what would we really be doing?

Trying to make money to buy things, places, and possessions that sit empty without scratches, tears, dings, or character from dropping a Christmas tree on a newly refinished hardwood floor?

Community is what you make it, but you can’t create community without being vulnerable, authentic, and open.

I’m grateful I have a community of epic proportions: agriculture.

Agriculture knows struggle inherently and deeply, painfully and tragically.  All for a cause bigger, more impactful, and meaningful than the community itself.

A cause that serves humanity even when humanity takes it for granted.  

That’s what makes the community so long-lasting, resilient, and connected.

Agriculture makes the world small.  It defines the essence of community. A group that commits to supporting each other to survive and thrive.

So my encouragement.  Make a community.  Make lots of community.  Let your community go beyond just a few people close to you.  Grow communities like rabbits make babies.

While an inner circle is essential, it’s not enough. It’s not enough because we have much bigger needs than just a few others.

It’s not enough in a world that is lonely, isolated, and hurting.

Community is the magic potion everyone is searching for and seeking. 

So go drink and pour!

A Community for You

With all that, I want to remind you of opportunities for us to keep showing up for one another inside the IDL Community.

First up: The FALL Roundtable Cohort launches September 17th. For 12 weeks, we’ll gather on Zoom each week—not just to talk, but to listen, support, and learn alongside one another. Past participants have said what made the biggest difference wasn’t just the insights or strategies, but the sense of belonging they felt—realizing they weren’t walking their leadership journey alone. Together, we create a space where authenticity, vulnerability, and growth are the norm, and where no one has to pretend to have it all figured out.

Looking ahead: The 3rd IDL Summit is set for May 7–8, 2026. It’s two days built around connection and shared inspiration—a chance to come together with leaders who understand the challenges and joys of this work, and to leave with new relationships that keep fueling your leadership long after the event ends. (Annual Roundtable members—you’ll already have a VIP ticket waiting!)

Whether it’s in the Roundtable or at the Summit, I hope you’ll join us. Leadership doesn’t have to feel isolating. When we come together, we discover just how much stronger we are.

Did you catch this podcast? If not, listen to it here.