Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam — What Barcelona Taught Me About Purpose

I'm home from Barcelona now.

It's been a few days. I've had time to sit with everything — the golf tournament, the discovery in Manresa, the candle at Montserrat, my mother's birthday, the Pope driving by twice on the streets of Barcelona.

And there's one moment that keeps coming back to me more than any other.

The Cathedral

Standing inside the cathedral at Montserrat — after I had lit the candle, after I had prayed, after I had felt everything I wrote about earlier this week — I had a moment of reflection about my life and my purpose unlike anything I've experienced in a long time.

Not about Warehouse Live. Not about content calendars or marketing strategies or the next show on the books. Not about any of the things that normally occupy my mind from the moment I wake up at 6am until I finish my day.

Just — what am I actually here for.

St. Ignatius of Loyola had a phrase he lived his entire life by.

Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam.

For the greater glory of God.

I've known that phrase for years because of Strake Jesuit — Renner's school, built on the Jesuit tradition St. Ignatius founded centuries ago. I've seen it on banners. I've heard it in speeches at school events. It's been part of the background of my life as a Jesuit parent without ever fully landing.

But standing in that cathedral — inside the same mountain where St. Ignatius surrendered his sword and devoted his life entirely to God — it stopped being a phrase on a wall.

It became something I actually felt.

The Final Night

Our last evening in Barcelona the entire Strake Jesuit team had dinner together at the hotel where we were staying.

The boys sat together at their own table. Laughing. Recapping the week. Already turning the tournament into stories they'll tell each other for years — the elevation drops at Masia Bach, the practice rounds at Infinitum and Costa Daurada, the hacky sack and soccer on the beach in Salou.

I sat with the coaches and the other parents. We shared our own stories from the week — comparing what we'd seen, what had moved us, what we were each quietly carrying home with us.

I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude sitting at that table. For the opportunity to be part of this trip. For watching these young men become brothers on a golf course in a foreign country. For everything Strake Jesuit and the Manresa Cup had given all of us that week.

Renner was ready to go home.

He doesn't usually do long trips like this one. As much fun as he had — and he genuinely had fun — I could tell he missed his bed, his mom, his sister, the rhythm of his normal life back in Houston.

I understood that completely.

For me though, leaving was bittersweet in a way I wasn't fully prepared for.

Part of me didn't want to leave yet.

There was still more I wanted to feel, more I wanted to sit with, more of that closeness to God I had found in Manresa and Montserrat that I wasn't ready to leave behind on a mountain in Catalonia.

But another part of me was more than ready to get back to my wife and my daughter — who I had been thinking about throughout the entire trip, including in my prayers at Montserrat.

Both things were true at the exact same time.

I've learned that's often how the most meaningful moments in life work. They rarely arrive as one clean feeling. They arrive as several true things happening inside you all at once.

What I Brought Home

I went to Barcelona because my son was competing in a golf tournament.

I came home with so much more than that.

I came home with a deeper sense of comfort and closeness to Christ than I've felt in a long time.

I came home with a reminder that my mother — Priscilla Baguisi Villabroza, gone since March 16, 2024 — is still present in ways I don't fully understand but choose to believe completely. A devout Catholic who spent her life in prayer and pilgrimage, somehow still leading her son toward faith from wherever she is now.

I came home with the discovery that St. Ignatius of Loyola had been quietly woven into my life for years — through my son's communion, through his school, through a prayer I turned into music without knowing whose words I was using — long before I ever noticed any of it.

And I came home with a phrase I've heard a thousand times suddenly meaning something it has never meant before in my entire life.

Yesterday — just one day after writing this — I went to confession.

I prayed.

I'm still processing everything this trip gave me. I imagine I will be processing it for a while longer, maybe for years, the way meaningful experiences tend to keep revealing new layers long after they end.

But here is what I know for certain.

The golf tournament. The front 9 that tested my son and the back 9 where he found his strength. The discovery in Manresa. The candle I lit at Montserrat. My mother's birthday. The Pope driving past us — twice — on a street in Barcelona.

None of it was random.

I went to Barcelona for a golf tournament.

I came home a different version of myself.

Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam.

For the greater glory of God.

That phrase has more meaning to me now than it ever has in my entire life.

Thank you to everyone who has been following along with this week's posts.

This isn't the content I originally planned to share when I started building my personal brand a few weeks ago. I came into this with a strategy document, a content calendar, and a plan to talk about live entertainment, talent buying, and 30 years in the music industry.

But somewhere along the way Barcelona happened. And the content I needed to share became the content I think some of you needed to read.

If you've made it this far — thank you for letting me share something this personal.

Mom, this one's for you.