A few weeks ago, a new friend, extraordinary businessman, and leader of a growing Christian ministry in Dallas gifted me with what has quickly become one of my favorite t-shirts. The front shares only a very simple statement: “Trust the Process.”

Each time I read it the pressure inside of my heart and mind slowly releases like air into the atmosphere. It relaxes me. Helps me breathe. Think deeply. Focus. The unnecessary (and unhealthy) pressure I feel on a regular basis to perform, do well, succeed and “not mess up,” subsides almost immediately when I read those 3 words. 

It's a beautiful feeling. A peace that I wish everyone could experience daily. I think my passion to share Lone Oak stems from the desire to create those peaceful moments for others.

A few weeks ago, I began wondering how and why that pressure builds up in the first place.

I remember, when I was a child, it was so easy to trust. I had everything I needed:  Food, Shelter, and Fun. I just trusted that each day would be filled abundantly with the same. Those things happened. And nothing else really mattered.

As I grew older, I found myself having to work harder at trusting that “process,” despite the fact that trusting people has always been relatively easy for me. I grew up with parents, siblings and friends that always fulfilled their word. I lived in a community where theft and vandalism were nearly nonexistent with the random exception of a random Halloween night, a carton of eggs, and the local sheriff's patrol car drifting slowly down our empty, small-town, Kansas, main street waiting for something “wild” to happen. 

Trust was so easy for me at an early age. I still don’t know why anyone would do anything to intentionally harm anyone else. And although my trusting nature has created some stressful situations in both my personal and business life at times, I still wouldn’t change the trust I have in humanity. 

About mid-way through my college career, I remember beginning to wake up earlier, already thinking about studies, jobs, finances, careers, girlfriends, car insurance, tuition fees, haircuts, workout programs, and other responsibilities that continued to grow. 

As the responsibilities grew, the level of trust I had in myself to succeed at these things began to drop. The more I took on, the harder I worked. I realized later that I wasn’t working harder to do a better job, but rather, I was working harder so no one saw me with a deficit. The weak one. The guy who couldn’t handle life.

The harder I worked, the more control I wanted. The more control I desired, the less I trusted the process, the harder I had to work to maintain control…and the cycle continued.

It wasn’t until years later, and after my responsibilities continued to grow with marriage, home and business ownership, children, vehicles and more, did I discover a way to “return” to the carefree lifestyle I remembered having as a child.

My sister helped me begin that journey during her untimely passing from a brain tumor when she was in her 30’s. A smiling mom, wife, marathon runner, nurse practitioner and delightful sister…here one day…gone the next. She helped me understand that today is what I have. Just today. 

In addition to Lisa’s lesson in freely living each day, I began to understand how busy and distracted my life and world had gotten. The noise, the speed, the competitive nature and the constant struggle to stay on top of the business and personal things was wearing me out. 

I decided to stop, find quiet, go outside, sit and walk, exercise a little more, put my phone down even more, read more, unplug even more, look people in the eye, and stop looking for a reason to start the next thing. My goal became: to simply enjoy this day.

I found “quiet” at Lone Oak (at work of all places, right?). It helped me eliminate the distraction and clear my mind. I found myself walking through the woods in the middle of the day, pausing for a minute to listen to birds, watch leaves in trees and a stream running. This process helped me to understand my very few, key priorities. Priorities that I knew were mine, and that I could release everything else.

The quiet gave me the personal security I needed to genuinely trust the process of each day. It allowed me to experience the beauty in allowing each day to play out. Using only my small humble hands as assistants. I began to enjoy "lightly guiding the steering wheel as opposed to a white-knuckled, death-grip with a glare in my eye and the pedal through the floorboard."

I’m sure it's possible to release the pressure valve in the hustle of city life. I’m fortunate enough to find myself in the peace of Lone Oak each day.

Our goal is to serve as many as possible in the most meaningful ways possible. 

Encouraging you to settle your heart and trust the process.

Enjoy the day,

Brian