This morning’s reading reminded me of something I don’t always stop to think about: I spend a lot of my life investing in other people.
At work, I pour into my team—trying to help them grow, think better, build better things, and become the kind of people who carry responsibility well. With Eminence FCA, I spend time with teenagers who are still figuring out who they are, hoping that something I say or do helps them take one step in the right direction. With my own kids, the investment is deeper than I’ll ever see. Every conversation, every moment, every lesson feels like planting something that might take years to show up.
Most of the time, those seeds disappear into the ground. You plant them and then… nothing. At least nothing you can see.But every once in a while, there’s a moment that warms my heart. A moment when I see the sprout. Sometimes it’s small—a leaf pushing through the soil. Sometimes it’s bigger—the first fruit.
I think about a young girl stepping onto the high school softball team and knowing I was given the gift of pitching to her as a five year old. I think about my son working his way through school toward a career in law. I think about teenagers I’ve mentored in church who eventually find themselves stepping into ministry in their own way.
Those moments feel like fruit on a tree. But the truth is, the most important part isn’t the fruit. It’s the growth. There are long seasons between seed and fruit. Long seasons where nothing visible is happening. Where you just keep watering, tending, and trusting the process. Those seasons can feel slow. Sometimes even discouraging. But they’re where the real work happens. Roots are forming where no one can see them. And if I’m honest, the Stoic reading today reminded me of something else too: the soil matters. The environment matters. The people around you matter.
I invest in others, but I also need to be invested in. Erin is one of those people. She sees things in me that I can’t see myself and reminds me of what matters when I start running too fast. The life group we’ve been invited into is another place where I can be known, challenged, and encouraged. Then there are the friends I train with, the partners I work alongside, and the people I spend life with outside of the responsibilities of work and leadership. Those people shape me just as much as I shape others. And that’s something easy to forget when you’re the one doing a lot of the planting.
Growth is not a one-way street. Just like a tree needs the right soil, sunlight, and surrounding environment to thrive, people do too. The people around us can either nurture growth or slowly pull us downward.
So today I’m thinking about both sides of that equation: the seeds I’m planting, and the soil I’m standing in. Because the real reward isn’t just seeing fruit someday. It’s knowing that growth is happening—even in the quiet seasons when it’s hard to see.
And sometimes, if you pay close attention, you catch a glimpse of that first little leaf pushing through the ground.
Those are the moments that warm my heart.
