Brothers and Sisters In Arms, 9 Henzell Road, Caboolture (2026)

08/10/2026

☕ Coffee with Dan
**Give them five minutes of your full attention**

With seven kids in our blended family, there’s plenty competing for attention.

Work, dinner, messages, appointments—and someone trying to tell you something while you’re halfway through three other jobs.

It’s easy to answer while looking at a screen. To hear enough to respond, then carry on.

But there’s something worth trying: when someone comes to you, give them a few minutes where they don’t have to compete.

Put the phone down. Turn towards them. Let them finish.

Try asking, “What was that like for you?” before jumping in with what you would have done.

Sometimes the story takes a while to get going. Sometimes the thing that matters comes after the bit about lunch, school or something a mate said.

And if you genuinely can’t stop, give them a clear time: “I want to hear this. Let me finish here, and we’ll sit down after dinner.”

Then come back to it.

Five minutes won’t solve every problem. It’s simply a manageable place to start making room for each other.

This applies with our kids, our partners, our mates and the people we work alongside.

Who could you give a few unhurried minutes to this week?

That’s my coffee thought for the day.

— Dan

04/10/2026

☕ **COFFEE WITH DAN | SUPPORT & INDEPENDENCE**
**Leave room for someone to have a go.**

When you care about someone, it’s easy to step in quickly. You can see they’re finding something difficult, and you want to help.

Maybe they’re preparing lunch, choosing what to wear or working out what to say on the phone. You know how to do it, and taking over would be quicker.

But sometimes it’s worth pausing to ask, “Would you like a hand, or a bit more time?”

That question gives someone room to decide what support they want.

As a parent, a leader and someone working in disability support, I think this is something we need to keep checking in ourselves.

Are we responding to the person’s needs, or our own discomfort with watching something take longer?

Learning takes time. It can involve uncertainty, repetition and a few attempts that don’t go to plan. People need space to experience that, with support available when they want or need it.

That might mean talking through the steps together. Demonstrating something and then handing it back. Waiting quietly while someone works it out. Or accepting that their way of doing something looks different from ours.

It also means recognising when someone has had enough, wants help or chooses not to do that task today.

Independence can include knowing when to ask for support and having a say in how it’s provided. Nobody should have to struggle to prove they deserve choice.

Of course, we still need to consider safety and the support each person requires. We can talk through risks, make adjustments and agree on how to approach something together.

At BASIA, I want us to keep asking whether the support we provide leaves people with a voice in their own lives.

Did we ask before stepping in? Did we listen to the answer? Did we give them enough time?

Sometimes the most helpful thing we can do is slow ourselves down and let the person set the pace.

Their opportunity to learn deserves that patience from us.

**Are we leaving enough room for someone to discover what they can do?**

01/10/2026

☕ COFFEE WITH DAN | FAITH IN BUSINESS
Values have to make it into the diary.

My faith shapes how I want to lead. Living that out gets harder when the week is busy and a conversation feels personal.

A story in John 8 helps me pause. John is one of the Bible’s accounts of Jesus’ life.

While Jesus is teaching, religious leaders bring forward a woman caught in adultery. They stand her before the crowd and say their law calls for her to be stoned to death.

They ask Jesus what should happen. The passage explains that they’re trying to trap Him into saying something they can use against Him.

A woman’s life is at stake, and they’re demanding an answer.

Jesus bends down and writes on the ground. We aren’t told what He writes.

When they keep questioning Him, He tells them that whoever is without sin should throw the first stone.

One by one, the accusers leave.

Jesus asks the woman whether anyone has condemned her. She says no. He tells her He does not condemn her either, and directs her to leave her life of sin.

He shows mercy and addresses her actions. He challenges the accusers to examine themselves and gives the woman a voice.

For me, His response offers a lesson in staying grounded under pressure.

It’s behind what I call the John 8 Mission Filter:

• Am I reacting or leading?
• What is the real issue?
• Am I trying to help, or defend my pride?
• Can I lower the temperature while being honest?
• Does my response protect dignity and uphold accountability?
• Does this serve the mission God has given me?

These questions begin with examining myself.

At BASIA, our values are compassion, respect, integrity and excellence. They need to shape how we handle complaints, support staff, own mistakes and keep promises.

That takes time in the diary: time to listen, pray, reflect and return to a conversation we could have handled better.

I’m still learning. Before sending that email or entering that meeting, I want to pause and remember who I’m called to be.

When pressure rises, what helps you stay true to your values?

23/09/2026

☕ **COFFEE WITH DAN | MATESHIP**
**Check in again.**

“Yeah mate, all good.”

It’s an easy answer to give. Especially when you’re used to being the person everyone else relies on. Sometimes you’re busy. Sometimes you haven’t worked out how to explain what’s going on. Sometimes it just feels easier to keep the conversation moving.

After 15 years in the Army, mateship is something I carry with me. Sharing a chapter of life with people gives you a connection that can stay with you long after everyone heads in different directions.

But keeping that connection alive takes effort.

Life fills up. Work, kids, relationships and responsibilities all compete for our attention. You think about giving someone a call, get distracted, and suddenly another month has passed.

I reckon plenty of us have a mate we keep meaning to catch up with.

Send the message. Suggest a day. Make time for the coffee, the walk or the phone call on the way home.

And when you do catch up, give the conversation a bit of room.

“How did that appointment go?”

“How are things going at home?”

“You mentioned work was getting on top of you. How’s this week been?”

Remembering something they told you shows you were listening. Following up lets them know the conversation mattered.

You don’t need to have the perfect words or a solution ready. Sometimes listening means letting a silence sit instead of rushing to fill it with advice or a story of your own.

They might want to talk. They might just want some company. There’s room for both.

If they say they’re doing okay, take that seriously too. A friendship needs ordinary conversations, shared laughs and time together, as well as space for the harder stuff.

I want to keep making room for those friendships in my own life. That means turning “we should catch up” into something that actually happens.

So if someone has come to mind while you’re reading this, reach out. Even a simple “Been thinking about you, mate. Got time for a coffee?” gives you somewhere to start.

**Who’s a mate you’ve been meaning to catch up with?**

16/09/2026

☕ **COFFEE WITH DAN | PARENTING**
**Our kids need to hear us apologise.**

There are days when we’re tired, distracted or carrying pressure from work. Sometimes that comes out in the way we speak to the people closest to us.

A short answer. A raised voice. Jumping to a conclusion before hearing the whole story.

As a dad, I know parenting can stretch us. We’re trying to guide our kids while managing our own emotions, responsibilities and expectations. We won’t get every moment right.

But being the parent comes with responsibility for what happens next.

“I was frustrated, but the way I spoke to you wasn’t okay. I’m sorry.”

That sentence can be uncomfortable. Especially if we grew up in a home where adults rarely apologised, or where questioning a parent was treated as disrespect.

It takes humility to sit with your child and acknowledge that you handled something badly.

The words we choose matter. “I’m sorry I yelled, but you wouldn’t listen” puts the responsibility for our reaction back onto them. We can address their behaviour separately and still take full responsibility for ours.

The boundary can stay. The expectation can stay. We can explain both calmly after we’ve owned what we need to own.

I want my kids to know they can acknowledge a mistake without it defining who they are. They need opportunities to see me practise that too.

An apology also needs follow-through. If I keep apologising for the same reaction, I need to look at what I’m doing to change it. That might mean pausing, stepping away briefly or returning to a conversation when I can speak calmly.

And our kids might need time. They don’t have to immediately smile, offer a hug or make us feel better because we’ve said sorry.

Making room for their feelings is part of taking responsibility.

As a dad, I want those conversations to have a place in our home. I want my children to know that their feelings matter to me, even when we disagree, and that I’m willing to keep learning alongside them as they grow.

**What did you learn about apologising growing up?**

09/09/2026

☕ **COFFEE WITH DAN | LEADERSHIP**
**Make it safe to tell you the truth.**

As a leader, you need to know when something isn’t working. The question is, how easy do you make it for someone to tell you?

Most of us would say we welcome feedback. We say our door is always open. But what happens when someone walks through it with something uncomfortable?

Do we listen? Or do we react. Do we create space for them to finish speaking?

If every concern gets met with defensiveness, frustration or a reminder of who’s in charge, people learn to keep things to themselves. Eventually, small problems become big ones because nobody feels comfortable raising them early.

I want the people around me to be able to say, “Dan, I think we’ve got this wrong.”

But I have a responsibility to make that conversation possible. My reaction teaches people what to expect the next time they speak up.

That means pausing before responding. Asking, “Can you help me understand?” Being willing to hear how a decision has affected someone.

It also means owning my part. Sometimes the right response is, “You’re right. I missed that. Let’s work out how to fix it.”

There will be times when I disagree. There will be decisions I still need to make and boundaries I need to hold. But someone should be able to leave that conversation knowing they were heard, their concern was taken seriously, and speaking honestly hasn’t damaged their place in the team.

This applies at home too. Can our partners tell us they’re overwhelmed? Can our kids admit a mistake without being afraid of our reaction?

I think leadership asks us to look closely at ourselves before asking everyone else to improve.

The next time someone brings me a concern, I want to remember that they’ve taken a chance by speaking up. How I handle that moment matters.

And if I handle it badly, I need to return to the conversation, apologise and give them another opportunity to be heard.

**How do you respond when someone tells you something you don’t want to hear?**

26/08/2026

☕ **Coffee with Dan**
**Busy is Not the Same as Building**

When Bec and I started Brothers & Sisters in Arms in July 2024, we didn’t begin with a large team, perfect systems or unlimited resources.

We began with a purpose, a willingness to work and a belief that disability support could be delivered differently.

In the early days, the business was self-funded and I wore a lot of hats. I was supporting clients, answering phones, solving roster problems, reviewing documentation, sending invoices, developing policies and trying to work out what needed to happen next.

Within our first year, BASIA grew from supporting one participant to supporting more than 25 people. We built a team, completed our audits and became a registered NDIS provider.

From the outside, that growth looked like success.

But growth also exposed every weakness in our systems.

Something that works when you have a few clients may fall apart when you have 25. A decision that once took five minutes can suddenly affect participants, families, staff, payroll and compliance.

I’ve learned that being busy can feel like progress, but it isn’t always the same as building a sustainable business.

If every decision still depends on me, I haven’t built a business. I’ve created a demanding job for myself.

If revenue is growing but cash flow isn’t being managed, growth can create more pressure rather than less.

If we keep saying yes to every opportunity, we can become distracted from the reason we started.

And if a system, role or idea isn’t working, keeping it simply because we invested time or money into it won’t make it work.

Some of our decisions have worked well. Others haven’t.

There have been systems we’ve needed to change, roles we’ve needed to rethink and moments when I’ve had to admit that my original plan was no longer the right one.

That isn’t failure. That is business.

The challenge now is moving from being the person who does everything to becoming the person who builds the team, systems and leaders that allow the organisation to succeed without depending on me for every answer.

That means learning to delegate properly, not just handing someone a task, but giving them the training, authority and support to own it.

It means becoming more disciplined with finances, more intentional about growth and more willing to slow down when something doesn’t align with our purpose.

The hard work and willingness to do whatever was needed helped us survive the beginning.

But what gets a business started isn’t always what will take it into the future.

I’m still learning. I still get pulled back into the daily operations, and I still have days when being busy feels more comfortable than stepping back and building properly.

But the goal isn’t to create a business that needs me everywhere.

It’s to build an organisation that remains strong, accountable and true to its purpose, even when I’m not in every room.

So here’s my question over this morning’s coffee...

Are you building something sustainable, or are you simply becoming busier?

☕ Until next week.

20/08/2026

☕ Coffee with Dan
The Uniform Comes Off. The Service Doesn’t.

I joined the Australian Army in 2003 and served for 15 years.

For around ten of those years, I worked as a medic. My roles included teaching combat first aid and working as an infantry and helicopter medic. Later, I transferred to RAEME and qualified as a heavy vehicle mechanic.

They were very different roles, but they were built on many of the same principles: look after your mates, take responsibility, remain calm under pressure and do your part for the team.

When I left the Army in 2018, the uniform came off—but the values, habits and sense of service didn’t simply disappear.

One of the challenges of leaving Defence is working out where everything you learned fits in the civilian world. You might know how to lead, adapt and solve problems under pressure, but still find yourself asking:

What is my purpose now?

Every veteran’s transition is different. For me, the next chapter took me into nursing, aged care management and eventually the disability sector.

The environment changed, but I realised that the part of me that wanted to serve and make a difference was still there.

When Bec and I started Brothers & Sisters in Arms, the name wasn’t chosen by accident.

It represents mateship, belonging and the belief that people should not have to face difficult situations alone. Those values were shaped during my time in the Army, but today they guide how we support participants, families and our team.

I’m not suggesting that running a disability organisation is the same as serving in Defence. It isn’t.

But the lessons I carried with me still matter.

Look after your people.

Know your role and take responsibility for it.

Stay focused when situations become difficult.

Ask for help when you need it.

And never become so focused on the task that you forget the people beside you.

Being a veteran isn’t just something I was. It remains part of who I am.

But moving forward hasn’t meant trying to recreate my military life. It has meant finding a new way to use what the Army taught me, to lead, to serve and to help build something that gives other people strength and support.

Sometimes purpose doesn’t disappear when one chapter ends.

Sometimes it simply changes uniform.

So here’s my question over this morning’s coffee...

When one chapter of your life ended, what helped you find purpose in the next?

☕ Until next week.

13/08/2026

☕ Coffee with Dan
Parenting Is About Showing Up

One thing I’ve learned as a dad in a blended family of seven children is that parenting rarely goes according to plan.

I spent 15 years in the Army, where structure, routines and clear instructions mattered. I’ve worked in healthcare, managed teams and now run a business.

None of that means I always know what I’m doing as a parent.

Our children have different personalities, needs, strengths and challenges. What motivates one child might overwhelm another. One might need clear boundaries, while another needs time, reassurance and space to talk.

That has taught me that fair doesn’t always mean giving every child exactly the same thing. Sometimes it means giving each child what they need to feel supported, safe and valued.

Life in our home can be busy.

There are school schedules, work, appointments, sport, meals, transport and all the unexpected things that seem to appear at the worst possible time. Some weeks we feel organised. Other weeks, success means everyone was fed, got where they needed to go and we made it through together.

Running a business adds another layer.

Work doesn’t stop because one of the kids needs me, but parenting doesn’t pause because the business is under pressure either. There are times when I’m answering work messages around family commitments, rearranging meetings or lying awake thinking about everything that needs to happen the next day.

I don’t always get the balance right.

Sometimes I’m physically at home but mentally still at work. Sometimes I become focused on fixing a problem when one of the kids simply needs me to listen. Sometimes I have to admit that I reacted poorly, apologise and try again.

Bec and I don’t parent perfectly. We adjust, tag-team, laugh at the chaos and do our best to support each other when one of us is running low.

Parenting has taught me that our children don’t need us to have every answer.

They need us to be present.

They need consistency, but they also need grace. They need boundaries, but they also need to know that home is a safe place to make mistakes. Most importantly, they need to know that our love for them isn’t dependent on their achievements, behaviour or how easy they make the day.

There is no perfect parent and there is no perfect family.

There are simply people learning how to live, grow and keep showing up for one another, even on the difficult days.

So here’s my question over this morning’s coffee...

When life becomes busy and messy, what helps you stay present with the people who need you most?

☕ Until next week.

Brothers and Sisters In Arms

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