Walking Differently

As I’ve been writing for you this month, I’ve noticed something happening in me too—my pace, especially my thoughts, has become slower, steadier.

The IMAX film Rocky Mountain Express quietly reshaped how I think about my life, my business, and my creative work.

In this series, we’ve talked about the hard days when we only see “five feet of progress.”

And we’ve talked about the “twenty years of preparation” needed before a single step is taken. Preparation that tests our patience and resilience. It tempts us to give up with a frustrated sigh of, “It’ll never happen.”

Last week I shared the light of hope that gets us through—the power of vision to carry us through these slow seasons.

One movie. Three different stories. One shared truth.

A meaningful life isn’t built in dramatic leaps. It’s built in small, faithful steps. In seasons of preparation that no one sees. In days when vision is the only thing that helps us keep going.

But now we’re a month into the new year—January is nearly behind us. And another question has surfaced for me, one that I hope has risen for you as well.

How do we live differently because of what we’ve learned?

It’s easy to read something, nod in agreement, and then slip back into old patterns of pressure. Old habits of urgency. Old thoughts that say, I should be further by now.

But what if this month could be more than inspiration?

What if it’s about how you approach your days—what you carry with you, and what you let go of?

What if five feet a day wasn’t just a story—but a new pace?

What if preparation wasn’t something to rush through—but something to respect?

What if vision wasn’t about getting there faster—but about remembering why we’re walking at all?

Maybe the shift isn’t in what we’re doing.

Maybe it’s in how we’re doing it.

What if you could build your dream for the future with:

• Less striving.

• More steadiness.

• Less comparing.

• More faithfulness.

• Less pushing for arrival.

• More trust in the forming.

Because the truth is, most of life is lived in the middle. Not at the beginning with excitement, and not at the end with resolution. But here—in the ongoing building, planting, praying, and showing up.

That’s where our growth happens.

That’s where character is formed.

That’s where unseen roots grow deep enough to hold what’s coming next.

As we move into the rest of the year, consider that the lesson of the Rocky Mountain Express isn’t an invitation to do more.

Maybe it’s to learn to walk differently.

To remember that slow progress still counts.

That long preparation is not wasted.

And that staying connected to the vision gives meaning to even the hardest days.

So instead of asking, How can I get there faster?

Maybe we ask:

How can I live this season more faithfully?

Because in the end, it’s not speed that builds a life.

It’s steady steps, taken with trust.

Yes, I’ve slowed my pace this month.

Today, I invite you to do the same.