When I was about 17, I met a man I thought was the very picture of success. He was involved in a few business ventures, though I never really knew what they were. What stood out to me was his attitude—he believed building wealth was possible through discipline. To my young ears, it sounded as easy as plucking an apple from a low-hanging branch.
He told me I could be a millionaire by 30 and never work again. I believed him and repeated that plan to my friends—even though I had no idea how to make it happen.
Years later, as a high school teacher, I recognized that same big-dreaming spirit in my students. I saw myself in those wide-eyed young athletes, holding fast to big dreams with little idea of what lay ahead.
One, an accomplished athlete, said his dream was to be a professional football player. He stuck to it with a single-minded focus. But I knew the odds; in all my years teaching, I’d seen only a handful from our district ever make it to the pros, and their careers lasted weeks, not years.
Dream big, I’d tell my students, but always have a backup plan. I never wanted to dash their dreams or quietly send good kids off to ordinary jobs far from where they hoped to be.
A few years later, that same student visited. He’d tried out for a small college team, but didn’t make it. “Those guys were more talented than I expected—and it wasn’t even a big-name school!” His humility and maturity impressed me. If you ask me, that’s what success looks like as it unfolds.
Today, he’s a devoted husband, father, and a respected officer. I couldn’t be prouder.
Looking back on my own plan, I have to smile. I never became a millionaire. But I’ve been married 45 years to the best person I know, and every morning I’m still amazed by my wife. Our three grown children are kind, hardworking, and decent. Two grandsons are bright and sweet.
Along the way, I’ve also gathered a beloved family of friends—people who’ve stood by me and made life richer. I wouldn’t trade those friendships for anything.
Like the then actor Ronald Reagan said in the silly film, Bedtime for Bonzo: “By golly, I’m the richest man in six counties.” That line feels more profound now than ever.
Despite my youthful goal, I can’t imagine a more satisfying life than what God has given me. But I guess that’s a perspective that comes from a life spent growing in wisdom.
It’s sobering how often lives of wealth and fame end in sorrow. We watch people who seem to have it all struggle publicly under the crushing weight of “success.” I’m grateful for quieter blessings.
The Bible says, “When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. But when I grew up, I put away childish things.” (1 Corinthians 13:11, NLT)
The older I get, the clearer it becomes: youthful ambitions are mostly about loving ourselves. In the end, fulfillment isn’t found in wealth, but in the love we give and receive.
. . . and that’s what I know today.