Early Gets the Worm. Patience Lands the Fish.

My dad and I were going back and forth about hopes and dreams the other day. He kept coming back to patience. How we should pray for it, practice it, and trust it.

And I hate that.

So I texted him back, “Yeah… but patience doesn’t get the worm.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “True, but patience with a worm gets the fish!”

Shoot, I thought, that's really good.

I can sit by the water all day long and practice patience over and over and over again, but without the worm . . . I'm guaranteed nothing.

In the midst of patience, effort still matters.

Getting up early, doing the work, controlling what I can - that’s real and purposeful and desperately needed. To catch the fish, I need to get the worm.

But the worm isn’t the win. It just earns me the chance to fish. Once the line is in the water, however, I don’t control what happens next.

I can choose the spot, choose the appropriate bait, and cast with precision. But I can’t force the fish to bite. Because that’s where patience lives—not as passivity, but as trust. As endurance. As staying in it long enough for it to matter.

Discipline earns the cast.

Patience lands the catch.

Both are required. One not more important than the other. And I hate that. I want to force success to happen, to control the outcome, to ensure success. But I can't. 

Fish need time to bite. 

No worm? No chance.

No patience? No catch.

The work - and perhaps the hardest work - is knowing the difference.

Get the worm early. Then, have the patience to fish long enough for it to matter.

Otherwise, it's just a boat of frustration, soggy worms . . . and no fish. 

That’s what I’ve been thinking about lately.

Friday Thought: Considering Commas

A Friday thought on a Tuesday . . . interesting, but here it goes!

Earlier lastweek, I asked Tami for a quick review of the budget. After plugging in the numbers, we were shocked. Terrified is probably more appropriate.  

We had $X,000 left in the budget. For the entire school year. With more than 8 weeks left to go. And my stomach was in knots.

"Can you run the numbers, one more time?" I pleaded. Hoping. Praying. 

Rather quickly, Tami discovered that our main budget line read $XX.000 rather than $XX,000. 

One small mistake was the difference between two entirely different worlds.

And so that's what I've been thinking about this week: the power of pausing. 

When we rush, sometimes we risk missing the mark, misinterpreting, or finalizing something before it’s ready. Before we're ready. Whether it’s a task, a conversation, or a decision, taking a moment to pause allows us to breathe, reflect, and correct before moving forward.

Periods are final. Commas pause. And I don't know about you, but when I'm tired, stressed, busy, or upset, sometimes I can make period decisions instead of comma decisions. And more often than not, it is the period decisions that cause friction, discord and confusion, even harm. 

Comma decisions allow - even invite - time and space between my emotion and my decision. Which, in the end, prevents me from having to do a great deal of cleaning up or restoring damaged relationships. 

As we enter the final weeks of the year (with a sufficient budget in place!), consider taking a pause. Before hitting send, saying the thing on the tip of our tongue, or even before responding to a challenge, stop for a beat. Double-check, consider, and make sure the story we’re telling ourselves and the action we're taking align with who we want to be and what we know to be good and right and true. 

It’s not about being right—it’s about getting it right. And the pause can be the difference between panic and peace. Between brokenness and wholeness. 

Anyway. That's what I've been thinking about this week.

Friday Thought : An October Double-Stretch Story

This is Elias. He is my youngest of four kiddos, which means at any given time he as up to five people telling him what to do. And out of all my children, he is the craziest. He is full of passion, life, and commitment. And when he is frustrated, when his older and stronger siblings and parents don't let him finish his thought, when we fail to understand his needs, or when we just simply don't have time for the irrational rationalizations of a four-year-old mind, sometimes his only outlet is to scream, to throw a fit, and slam a door.

Those types of reactions often incite his sibling and parents to also react, creating a downward and mixed spiral of less-than-productive emotions and actions.

The other night, as I overheard him and his oldest older sister get into it, I quickly made my way to them, my irritation rising (can I never finish a sentence with my wife!!!) and ready to intervene with barks and demands. Yet, when I got there, I suddenly felt the urge to respond differently - I remembered the October Double-Stretch!

Instead of reacting, I gave just a bit more. I reminded myself that he had had a long day at school and daycare, that being the youngest is hard, and that a four-year-old doesn't always behave rationally. I reminded myself that at the end of a long day, he's tired. I reminded myself that he is four, and that I am the adult.

So instead of snapping, I picked him up and held him, patting his back, and speaking smooth encouragements.

Almost instantly he stopped crying. He then spent the next five-ish minutes with his head resting on my shoulder (something he rarely does). I thought he fell asleep. But then, in the gentlest of voices, he raised his head and said, "I'm ready to make it right with Eden now." And he did.

This simple moment reminded me that we're all trying our best - even our kiddos! But sometimes, every one of us - even the best of us - just need a few extra minutes, an extra hug, or an extra helping of grace. Sometimes, we all just need a little extra. And that is okay.

Where can you “double stretch” today, this weekend, or in the final weeks of October? With a friend, a family member, your job, or yourself?

If you have a story or two that celebrates the October Two-Stretch, let me know! I'd love to hear it:)