I told a friend last year that I tried to be a sheepdog rather rather a wolf or sheep. My son said that he’d like to be a sheep. I can’t remember why but he’s a perceptive kid who’s way smarter than his old man, so J listens. Recently, I taught him what I learned in Philadelphia – snitches get stitches. To my surprise, he got it immediately. I thought he would at least ask what that actually meant but I was impressed.

Anyway, I told my friend that I was probably the slowest sheepdog out there. He responded that may have been very true but I was the fiercest one.

Give them nothing, take from them everything.

My daughter said her brother was slow, like me.

But I think this can be a strength. People move too fast and it’s costly. Even if you want action, the best things can take time to mature and develop – food, wine, art, friendship, faith.

The many times incompetent idiots I has the dishonor and displeasure of serving with and under often moved quickly without much reflection. With disastrous consequences that resonate till today.

In the hospital, the doctors thankfully chose the slow heal approach versus the aggressive quick solution, which would have resulted in quicker pain alleviation but longer term damage. The key is to be patient and trust that the medicine flowing through your veins isn’t just water.

And so it is with the other less seen factors in life – grace and faith at the forefront.

They do their work.

Surely.

Fiercely.

Slowly.