Over the past few years, I’ve fallen hard for golf. (And yes, “fallen” feels like the right word—it’s not a sport for the faint of mind or heart.)

So I take encouragement wherever I can find it.

One of my favorite sources is a podcast called Chasing Scratch. It follows two middle-aged dads, Mike and Eli, who’ve spent eight years trying to become “scratch” golfers—basically, ridiculously good.

Reflecting on their journey, Eli shared something I’ve been thinking about ever since:

“Whatever it is you’re trying to get good at, don’t just get a coach—find one who’s invested in your growth.”

The difference hit me immediately.

I’ve had plenty of teachers—but only a few who challenged me to reach my full potential. (Thank you, Mrs. Throneburg and Mrs. Bechtold.)

I’ve had plenty of pastors—but only a few who took personal interest in my spiritual development. (Thank you, Ryan Berg and Ken Raymond.)

I’ve had plenty of mentors—but only a few who believed in me from the jump. (Thank you, Tim Hoerr and Graham Berry.)

The difference isn’t usually in what they do. It’s in what they feel toward you and how they make you feel about yourself and your capabilities. 

A teacher can teach you.

A mentor can guide you.

But someone invested in your growth? They care about your aspirations almost as much as you do.

And, in my experience, that kind of investment changes everything.

So let me ask:

• Who’s someone who has invested deeply in your growth?

• What would stop you from thanking that person with a short call, text, or email today?

• Whose growth are you investing in right now?

Thoughts from fellow travelers

The newsletter about defining success seemed to strike a nerve with people (I mean that in a good way). I appreciated the pushback I received from one reader, who suggested that the “scoreboard” Maxwell offers is somewhat dangerous if untethered from an understanding and acceptance of Grace, and I wouldn’t disagree. 

In a way, this reader was speaking to one of the great existential tensions of my life—wanting to strive for greatness, but doing so as one who has “already won.” I’ve concluded this is a tension to be managed, not resolved, and I’m thankful I get to do so with you all.

As a next step in that journey, I’ve decided I’m going to read the latest book by Wright Thompson—”The Cost of These Dreams: Sports Stories and Other Serious Business.” If you’re interested in reading it alongside me, let me know, and maybe we can pull together that virtual book club I’ve mentioned before.

Carry on fellow travelers, we’ll talk soon!