I Am More began in 2017 with a Jim, and now ends with a Jim, or “Jimmy,” as his family calls him. He comes from a large, loving Gloucester clan, and is known as one of the greatest football players in Gloucester High School history, a local legend. But the body that brought him so many accolades, has also presented him with some of the greatest challenges and lessons of his life. I would have never known how much he has endured from meeting him. He is sunny and warm and full of optimism and the desire to help, and he is full of gratitude for his extended family who have seen him through, and wanted to include ALL of them in his portrait, but I had to talk him down. His portrait shows his family on the journey over the hazards of life as a loving unit (with thanks to a certain whale drone pilot), in his beloved hometown:

“Mom, I don’t think I can do this. I’m so nervous—I’m going to embarrass my whole state.” Those words captured everything I was feeling as I sat in a hotel room, talking to my parents over the phone, before the U.S. Army All-American Game during my senior year of high school. What if I didn’t play well in my first nationally televised game? What if I failed to represent Gloucester football, to represent Massachusetts? At 6’5” and 240 pounds, I was considered undersized for a defensive end. My coaches hadn’t even put me in for the entire first day of practices, and I felt the weight of expectation bearing down on me. But my parents’ words of encouragement got me through. By the end of that week, I was more than the initial impression of being “too small.” I had earned the nickname “The Beast from the East” and was chosen as one of five team captains by my peers. I left high school as an All-American in both track and football, with Division I offers from schools across the country. I decided to attend Boston College.

During my freshman year, I played with drive and determination, excelling both on the field and academically with a 3.7 GPA. People saw a future professional athlete, maybe even an early first-round NFL draft pick. At eighteen, life was full of promise, opportunity, and expectation. But life took turns I could never have predicted.

Fast forward to seven years ago, when I was thirty-three. I lay in a hospital bed, recovering from open-heart surgery. An undetected genetic defect had caused an aneurysm, worsened by years of intense training and physical activity. I was eager to see my family again, to be healthy for my wife and son. But there was one problem: I couldn’t see.

“What’s going on? Where is everybody?” I asked, feeling disoriented. My sister’s words broke through: “We’re here, Jim.” My wife went to get the doctor, and after a CT scan, they told me I’d had a stroke during surgery, affecting the vision center of my brain. What kind of father would I be if I could never see again? How could I provide for my family? Would I ever see my wife’s face, my son’s smile again? I eventually regained my sight and was able to work again. Yet that experience left a lasting mark—a trauma that lingers, causing occasional relapses and hospital stays. Today, I’m still recovering from the latest one.

I never went on to play in the NFL or pursue a career people thought I should—politician, actor, performer. But through my journey, I’ve discovered something far greater: the transformative power of faith, hope, and resilience. Growing up as the oldest of five in a small-town, blue-collar family, I was an artist at heart, driven by a love for movement, creativity, and a desire to stand up for those who couldn’t stand up for themselves. Life’s unexpected turns have taught me that challenges, though painful, can serve a purpose if we see them as opportunities for growth rather than as anchors holding us down.

Today, I still struggle with health issues, including the effects of past concussions, heart disease, and neurological symptoms. Yet, I am more than any accolade, title, or condition. I am more than my degree, any professional recognition, or even my abilities as a father, husband, and friend. My identity is rooted in a faith that goes beyond what I can achieve. I am a child of God—a Father who knows me fully and gives my life meaning and purpose beyond worldly success or failure. He walks with me through every challenge, surrounding me with family, friends, and a community that lifts me up when I cannot carry myself.

In a world full of labels and expectations, I choose to define myself by my faith; I am a Christian. I am a son of the Most High God, and my life is part of a story much greater than I could imagine.

I am more than what others say about me. I am more than what I say about myself. I am more than the chronic pain and limitations I battle. I am more because God says I am more.

My prayer is that you find that same peace, joy, and strength in knowing you are more.

Thank you to Jim’s “Auntie Donna” for nominating him as the last I Am More portrait.