The slowest good news you'll get

Suppose the whole bill had arrived at once. Every cigarette, every restock, every little top up, added together and printed on one line. You'd have laughed and walked out of the room. It priced itself in pocket money so you'd never see the total.

Money left alone works like dough left overnight. You don't knead it or poke at it. You leave it, and it rises. It earns, and then what it earned starts earning too. The early part looks like nothing at all. The later years do most of the lifting.

You could spend today mourning what's already gone. Skip it. There's nothing back there to fix, and staring won't return a cent. The next ten years haven't started yet. They're sitting there untouched, and time is the one ingredient this needs. God grows most good things slowly, and He's patient with yours. Slow is exactly the speed money likes.

Open an account you won't touch and put the old weekly amount in today. Then set a calendar reminder for this date, ten years out, and call it Look. The waiting is the hard part, so give it away. Lord, make me patient with slow good things. Ten years from today, a reminder called Look is going to make your whole week.