Dear Family,(Thank you Lord for the gifts and favor you have placed over my life. I pray those who read this message receive it as you intended and may this breadcrumb nourish our minds, bodies, and spirits. AMEN!)
Happy Wednesday. It's mid-week and it's a strong one. The last bit of May 2026. Time seems to be flying by. I mean, it feels like yesterday we were popping confetti, singing Bailey Zimmerman, and counting down the new year. And it's almost June? Already? Wow.
As a kid, it felt like summer was dragging its feet through the snow. But lately, the months have become weeks. And the weeks have become days. I wish you could hear me screaming into the abyss from the side of the boat right now: SLOW DOWNNNNN. Not to the boat. To the waves. The water. The wind pushing us at a speed I once dreamt of, but now seems to be… well, frightening.
What I learned from the times sitting on Grandma's couch listening to the adults talk is the importance of being present in every moment. Not for any other reason than, there's no moment like the present. So many times I've waited. Anticipating a moment. An event. A conversation. Only to finally get there and be half-listening. Distracted with my thoughts. Or more into the thing on my phone that could've waited until it was over. Then later, I find myself complaining how it wasn't what I expected. Or wishing I could go back. Try again. Because I don't really remember it. It went too fast.
But that's the thing. Life passes us by so abruptly. By the time you find your seat, the show is nearing its end.
Now, I know.
What do I know about that, right? I'm still young. But Priscilla Shirer said something once that stuck with me: "You don't measure you age from your birth date. You measure it from your death date." And unless you're God (which none of us are) than you don’t know when that day is coming. Meaning? A 50-year-old who will live until 110 is pretty young. But, a 30-year-old who will only live until 35 is pretty old.
So I say, get on with it. Embrace every moment. Put your phone down during the conversation. Quiet your thoughts and fix your gaze on the son, the niece, the grandkid, or the cousin when they show you that thing that's unimpressive and you've seen a thousand times.
What's one more?
Me? I'm actively working to give Rebekah my full attention when we're together. Because that's what makes life with her feel rich. Fulfilling. I find myself appreciating her more for the small things. When I slow down, I appreciate her smile. Her care for detail. The conversations we have.
But not just her. So many times I've sailed back home, jumped off the boat, and ran as fast as I could to my mom’s house. Out of breath. Most of the time too out of breath to even talk. So I get what I came for in silence. A hug. Yes. I go for a hug.(I can be a bit of a mommas boy) Sit and talk. Or listen to her talk. No phones. No thoughts. Why? Because there's nothing like it. And because I embrace the moment, the feeling lasts forever. Or, at least until I return for another one.
So you already know my breadcrumb for you this week, I assume? How have you been robbing yourself of a rich and meaningful life? Have you forgotten to embrace each moment? Seize the day when opportunity comes? Or simply clear your head and enjoy the breeze on your face?
I want you to choose one or two moments this week to be present. Going fishing? Leave your phone in the car. Having a conversation? Try shutting your thoughts off and give that person your undivided attention. Hugging a loved one? Hold just a second longer. A pinch tighter. Try being present. And see how much more enriching, how much slower your life will feel.
As usual, I love you.
TTYL.
— Earl
P.S. Listen, I know the chase of life gets to be a lot. Trust me. I am goal-oriented to a fault. Finances, health, business, family; I'm coming for all of it. So when I tell you to slow down, I'm talking about in moments youre not working, and I am preaching to me first. This journey has been teaching me something I didn't expect: it doesn't get better when I run faster. It gets better when I slow down and embrace the moments along the way. The hugs. The hour-long phone calls. The dinner I almost rushed through. So if you're ambitious like me and reading this thinking "Earl, I don't have time to slow down" — family, you don't have time NOT to. The goal will still be there tomorrow. But that moment? It won't be.
