Faith, Freight & “Slaying the Tomb”

How the Moscrips Drove From Freight Tech to Faith-Fueled Media

When Scott Moscrip launched Truckstop.com from a spare bedroom in 1995, he didn’t just build a freight-matching marketplace—he rewired a blue-collar industry for the Internet age. Thirty years, five kids, and one mayoral term later, the Idaho technologist and his wife, Carmen, are chasing an even bigger pivot: using music, media, and a hotel in Papua New Guinea to prove that faith can still unite a fractured world.

“We were always giving back while we built Truckstop,” Scott recalled on the American Dreams podcast. “But once the kids graduated, we suddenly had time to go all-in.”

Turning a Struggling Motel Into a Skills Factory

On their scouting trip to PNG, the couple’s armed escorts issued a blunt warning: Do not walk outside the compound. Minutes later, Scott watched a man get mugged for his backpack. The violence was jarring; the cause, heartbreakingly simple.

“What we saw were young adults idle because they couldn’t qualify for trade school,” Scott said. “No jobs, no future—that vacuum breeds chaos.”

Then came COVID. Hotels went dark. Opportunity clicked. The Moscrips bought a three-building property “about the size of a Motel 6,” Carmen noted, and began gutting it with help from young members of their church. One block had to be razed entirely; the others are being rebuilt room by room into training pods.

Each department—housekeeping, laundry, cooking, security, maintenance—doubles as a vocational classroom. Through BYU–Pathway Worldwide, students are logging on from new “computer pods” shielded behind steel grates to deter theft. Progress is island-time slow, but already “kids are working,” Carmen said. “The ripple effect is real.”

Enter Tomb Slayer: Two Words, One Audacious Brand

If the hotel project battles economic poverty, Tomb Slayer Media wages war on spiritual scarcity. Carmen needed a production-company name for a multi-faith concert tour that would put Michael W. Smith, Tauren Wells, Jordin Sparks, and BYU Vocal Point on the same stage. After six months of searching for “one or two words that describe Jesus,” she cornered Scott for a last-minute suggestion. His off-the-cuff answer—“Tomb Slayer”—made her laugh out loud; she printed “Celebrate Christ” on the early posters but eventually circled back to the daring phrase.

The brand now stretches far beyond concerts. Tomb Slayer Radio, a free streaming app, mixes Johnny Cash with Lauren Daigle, Lecrae with Elvis, and Bill Gaither with Alan Jackson in a single algorithm-defying playlist. A sister app, Tomb Slayer Kids, offers an ad-free, closed garden of Jesus-centric tunes safe for young ears. Meanwhile, The Good Stuffpodcast—hosted by Take 6’s Khristian Dentley—spotlights stories of grace, including fellow group member Joey Kibble’s painfully honest reflections on divorce and faith. Together these platforms have already reached listeners in seventy-nine countries.

“If crowds see artists of different denominations loving each other onstage,” Carmen says, “they’ll realize they can love across pews too.”

Avoiding Turf Wars

The Moscrips’ adopted hometown of Orlando brims with churches—and potential turf battles. They chose a different playbook: friends first, funding second. Whether volunteering at a Salvation Army shelter or touring the construction site of a Latter-day Saint temple with local imams and priests, they show up, sleeves rolled.

“We’ve learned that Satan is the great divider,” Scott told American Dreams. “Put people shoulder-to-shoulder serving, and they forget who’s Methodist or Muslim.”

The strategy has paid unexpected dividends. Congregations once wary of sheep-stealing now swap pulpits, share volunteers, and phone the Moscrips just to pray together. For Carmen, the relationships have stretched her theology and scripture fluency: “They were better Christians than I was—so I had to step up.”

Prayer, AI, and the 40-Year Detour

Talk with the Moscrips long enough and the conversation drifts to revelation—how to hear God amid digital noise. Scott offers a binary litmus: “When we pray, we speak to God; when we read scripture, God speaks to us.” Carmen adds the “Sherri Dew clause”: Ask for what you want—but allow God to give something better.

That openness once steered her to marry at 40 after “wandering in the wilderness.” It also shapes their philanthropy: cash alone is a hand-out; opportunity is a hand-up. “A check can buy luxury goods that make you a target,” Scott said of PNG. “Training buys a livelihood—and a chance to lift others.”

What’s Next

So what’s next for Tomb Slayer? Carmen’s bucket list includes:

• A Tomb Slayer cruise packed with worship concerts at sea.
• A signature show inside Jerusalem’s ancient David Citadel—“when I do that, I’ve made it,” she laughs.
• Expansion into film, TV, and publishing that proves “it’s okay to be clean” without surrendering artistic excellence.

Scott, ever the pragmatist, quips they’ll wait for the Second Coming to “unite the four quarters.” Yet both believe the blueprint—friendship, music and meaningful work.

Conclusion

In a world that grows louder about what separates us, the Moscrips quietly load up a different shipment: proof that an empty tomb still overflows with possibility. Their inventory is hope, their dispatch hub is friendship, and their delivery guarantee is joy.

• Tune In: Download Tomb Slayer Radio (or Tomb Slayer Kids) on iOS or Android.
• Lean In: Catch The Good Stuff podcast for weekly stories of grace in motion.
• Pitch In: Follow—and fuel—the Åcahand Foundation’s hotel-to-trade-school project at acahand.org