Chapter 10Prosperous Patterns

The Christmas That Changed My Measure of Wealth

Can a family with very little show a child who has plenty what it means to be rich?

I was born into a relatively poor family. Within days—perhaps even hours—of my birth, I was taken to the Children’s Hospital for adoption. Twenty-six days later, a relatively wealthy family adopted me.

I still have keepsakes from those earliest days: the blue string and religious medal placed on me at the hospital, and the solid-gold baby rings given to me by my adoptive parents. Small objects, carrying the beginnings of a much larger story.

“I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need.”

A simple string. Two gold rings. Different keepsakes of the same beginning.

Neither could measure the worth of the child who wore them.

Philippians 4:12 reminds me that contentment must be learned in prosperity as well as in need. Whatever is in my hands, may gratitude and trust remain in my heart.

My dad owned Tastee-Freez and Dairy Queen franchises. When I was nine, he told me that, as the owner’s son, I could order whatever I wanted. Better yet, I could go behind the counter and prepare my own delights.

For a boy who loved ice cream, that was quite a privilege!

One thing is certain: I never lacked money or luxury. What I lacked was a devoted dad. His money was there. Too often, he wasn’t.

By age nine, I had become streetwise. I learned which buses would take me where I wanted to go, especially to the movies to see the latest James Bond films.

Sean Connery remains my favorite 007.

Bond. James Bond.

But I digress.

I loved exploring. Not far from our house, some neighborhood boys tried to bully me and fight me. I had watched enough boxing on television—and endured enough beatings from my dad—to stand my ground.

That first encounter was tough. But when they saw that I could withstand their barrage of punches without falling or quitting, they stopped. Eventually, they welcomed me into their world, their circle, their lives.

At home, Christmas was an extravaganza. Dad lavished gifts on the whole family. Packages spread out from beneath our beautifully decorated tree and filled so much of the living room that there was barely room to walk.

Then, one December, two older boys—twins—asked their parents whether they could invite me to spend Christmas Eve with them, including dinner. Dad gave his permission, and I gladly went.

Their family had very little money. When I arrived, the first thing I looked for was their Christmas tree.

I didn’t see one.

Nor did I see gifts on display.

“Where is your tree?” I asked. “And your gifts?”

“We don’t celebrate that way,” one twin explained.

His brother continued: “Instead of buying gifts for each other, we bring gifts to Jesus. Want to see?”

“Sure!”

What followed was far more than a Kodak moment—or even a Precious Moment.

It was one of those rare occasions when “Oh, my God” expressed actual wonder. I generally refrain from using those words casually. That evening, they felt like an expression of awe.

Where our living room overflowed with wrapped presents, theirs held an elaborate, handcrafted Nativity scene.

There was sand, running water, and miniature trees. The scene was breathtaking. I felt as though I had been transported to ancient Bethlehem.

Standing beside me were their grandmother, their younger sister, the twins, and their parents. They were smiling so joyfully—and my own delight seemed to make their smiles grow.

Each pointed out a personal gift to Jesus.

The women and girl had sewn clothing for the figurines. The men and boys had supplied the carpentry and plumbing. Their gifts were the work of their hands, offered with love.

Then someone switched on the little nighttime lanterns.

At midnight, the Star of Bethlehem lit up.

I got goosebumps.

They had invited me to dinner. They had also invited me into their joy.

Afterward, I could hardly wait to tell everyone. Running home in the dark, I kept saying to myself:

“That is what Christmas is about!”

“Dad,” I asked when I got home, “why don’t we have a Nativity display?”

“What’s that?” he replied.

His question stayed with me.

Our family had plenty of money. That evening, another family showed me something money alone could never provide: faith expressed through love, hope made visible, and joy shared freely.

Their gifts had no price tags. Yet I still carry their value more than sixty years later.

Have you heard the words from 1 Corinthians 13:13?

“The greatest of these is love.”

That Christmas Eve, I saw what those words could look like in a living room.

And my measure of wealth began to change.

That family practiced a pattern worth carrying forward: offer what you have, use your gifts with care, and make room for someone else. Prosperous patterns can grow through generosity, faithful stewardship, and love. Financial circumstances vary; our calling to love remains.

A Pattern Worth Passing On

Three years after our first daughter’s birth, we were expecting another blessing: our second daughter.

One weekend, while staying at my Dad’s house, I had an idea. Dad, my pregnant wife, and I would each write our preferred name for the baby on a separate strip of paper. Then our oldest daughter would have the honor of choosing her baby sister’s name.

Her eyes lit up.

“Really? I get to choose? Wow!”

And so she did. Their story as sisters began with a choice—and grew into a loving bond.

When our second daughter was born, the first words I said to my wife were, “My God, she’s beautiful! Perfectly beautiful!”

“She really is!” the nurses agreed in unison.

The doctor took another look, nodded, and gave me two thumbs up—even while finishing the delivery.

I’ll spare you the details. Some things belong in the delivery room. Others belong in a book!

As the girls grew, I established a daily rhythm:

“Make peace by dinnertime and hug it out. Before bed, say your prayers, give each other a kiss, and say, ‘I love you.’”

Little sister, who became a writer like her papa, added her own tender words: “And sleep with the sweet angels.”

Through childhood, their teenage years, college, and adulthood, they kept the tradition.

Years later, at her younger sister’s wedding, big sister spoke publicly about that memory—with affection and pride.

What began as a household routine had become something worth carrying into a new home.

“Train up a child in the way he should go, Even when he is old he will not depart from it.”

That proverb calls us to intentional nurture. Children still make their own choices; our part is to give them something faithful to carry.

In our home, that meant practicing peace, prayer, and spoken love—again and again.

When Our Prayers Grow Up

I suspect millions of parents would recognize something of their own hearts in this prayer:

“Oh, merciful and loving Heavenly Father, Creator of life and Giver of abundant blessings, may our baby be smarter, more talented, more successful, and more prosperous than I am.”

We hope our children will go farther, rise higher, and discover possibilities we never knew.

As I often say, “God doesn’t just show up. He shows off.”

Some roll their eyes. Others nod in agreement. Expressions of faith can draw very different responses. Jesus Himself said:

“If the world hates you, you know that it has hated Me before it hated you.”

He was speaking about the world’s hostility toward His followers. An eye roll is hardly the same thing, but His words remind me that faith will not always receive applause.

There is also a familiar saying: “If you don’t stand for something, you will fall for anything.”

I stand grateful.

Growing up, I performed and occasionally earned recognition as an actor, singer, and athlete. Later, as a married man, I pursued my ambitions as an entrepreneur, photographer, and writer.

Then I watched my children develop their own gifts—and go beyond my expectations.

After my daughters and I watched La vita è bella—Life Is Beautiful, I began affectionately calling each of them “Principessa”—Princess.

My firstborn became an extremely successful photographer with a studio of her own.

My middle child won her first talent show in elementary school, singing her little heart out. In high school, she frequently earned the leading female role in plays.

Then came a surprise: offered the role of Cinderella, she declined.

Why?

She wanted to play the wicked stepsister.

What? My sweet, gentle Principessa?

She nailed it.

Apparently, a princess can recognize a deliciously wicked acting opportunity!

And my son, their younger brother, was voted baseball MVP by his high school teammates and coaches two years in a row. As a senior, he received the coveted Academic Athlete Award with a 4.25 GPA.

I had prayed for children who would surpass me. Watching them grow, I recognized answers taking shape in their effort, their gifts, and their achievements.

Their accomplishments bring me joy. Their worth, however, has never depended on an award, a leading role, a thriving business, or a grade. They were loved before they achieved any of those things.

And as promised, there is more to come about my granddaughters.

I don’t share this to brag on me, but on my God.

Life has beaten me down, and I have failed more times than I care to count. Those experiences have humbled me. Yet alongside my regrets, God has given me some of my greatest joys: being a father, a homeschool teacher, a spiritual leader, and a grandfather.

Some answers to prayer arrive in our arms.

Then we spend years watching them grow.

The apostle Paul gives words to the gratitude I want to express:

“so that, just as it is written, ‘Let him who boasts, boast in the Lord.’”

He echoes that truth in 2 Corinthians 10:17:

“But he who boasts is to boast in the Lord.”

Now another generation is growing. My two beautiful, blessed, blue-eyed granddaughters, born five years apart, celebrated their fifteenth and tenth birthdays this year.

As a proud papa and abuelo—Grandpa—I have much more to say about all my children. Someone ought to make a soap opera called All My Children.

Oh, wait. Someone beat me to it!

For now, let me tie a little bow around this story.

The family members mentioned here were together in Hawaii, celebrating my older granddaughter’s Quinces—her fifteenth-birthday celebration. By God’s grace, they enjoyed beautiful weather: a calm before the storm as Hurricane Nolo approached.

Praise the LORD of lords—the One who commands the waves, the Only One who saves!

In an upcoming book, I’ll share more about my granddaughters, pushups and rainbows, our first ocean cruise together, and a story involving “the rapture.”

For now, this is the pattern I treasure: make peace, pray together, and say the love out loud.

What loving practice could you begin today that someone might remember with gratitude years from now?

Until then and beyond:

Stay tuned.
Stay connected.
Stay in prayer.
Stay blessed.

Praying Beyond Their Success

If their worth does not rest on achievement, our deepest prayers need not rest there either.

We can ask for their safety on the road and in the world. For friends who are honest and kind. For strength under the pressures they carry. For character that holds when no one is watching, wisdom in the choices ahead, and a relationship with Jesus that is truly their own.

These prayers do not end when children grow up. They change shape. An adult son or daughter may need our listening more than our advice. A grandchild may simply need someone steady and near.

Prayer walks beside attentive love. We listen, we notice, we protect where protection is wise, and we offer guidance when it can be received. Still, we cannot control every choice or outcome. Prayer is not a formula, and hard seasons are never a verdict on how faithfully anyone prayed. It is a way of placing those we love into hands stronger than ours.

Paul prayed for those he loved in this spirit:

“And this I pray, that your love may abound still more and more in real knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve the things that are excellent, in order to be sincere and blameless until the day of Christ;”

One way to begin: choose one child or grandchild this week, ask an open question about what they are carrying, and listen without correcting. Then pray for what they shared.

A Noble Prayer

Patterns shape lives.

Some patterns are obvious.

We wake up at a certain time.

We reach for the phone.

We eat.

We work.

We react.

We repeat.

Other patterns are harder to see.

How quickly do I worry?

How quickly do I pray?

How long do I hold resentment?

How often do I give thanks?

Do I act before discerning?

Do I listen before answering?

Do I finish what I begin?

Do I return to God after the crisis passes?

A life is not formed only by major decisions.

It is formed by repeated responses.

That is where another meaning of PPO began to emerge:

Prosperous Pattern Objectives.

Not prosperity as accumulation.

Not prosperity as comfort.

Not prosperity as proof that faith is stronger.

Prosperity in the deeper sense:

a life becoming fruitful,
faithful,
wise,
generous,
grounded,
and increasingly aligned with God.

A prosperous life is not built from one dramatic moment.
It grows through faithful patterns repeated over time.

PPO Means More Than Prayer Post Office

Prayer Post Office is the front door.

It is where we bring the message.

Say it.

Send it.

Surrender it.

But what happens after the prayer?

How do we live differently because we prayed?

That is where Prosperous Pattern Objectives enters.

Prayer changes more than circumstances.

It can change our patterns.

The goal is not to create a rigid spiritual checklist.

The goal is to recognize which repeated habits move us toward good fruit—and which repeatedly pull us away from it.

Pattern One — Abide Before You Act

One of the healthiest patterns we can develop is simple:

Abide before action.

Pause before impulse.

Pray before reaction.

Seek God before speed.

We often want fruit without roots.

Results without abiding.

Direction without stillness.

But fruit grows from connection.

Not striving.

The question becomes:

Am I moving because I am led?

Or because I am restless?

Abide first.
Fruit follows.

Pattern Two — Discern Before You Decide

Every opportunity does not deserve a yes.

Every fear does not deserve obedience.

Every idea does not deserve execution.

Discernment slows the rush.

It asks:

Is this wise?

Is this true?

Does this align with Scripture?

What fruit is likely to grow from this?

Will this move me toward faithfulness—or simply toward novelty?

Prosperous patterns are not about doing more.

They are about doing what matters more faithfully.

Pattern Three — Gratitude Before Complaint

Complaint is easy.

Gratitude requires attention.

That does not mean we ignore what is wrong.

It means we refuse to let what is wrong erase everything that is still good.

Before complaint becomes the dominant story, pause and ask:

What remains?

What grace is already here?

What provision have I overlooked?

What can I thank God for before I say anything else?

Gratitude changes the atmosphere in which the problem is considered.

Gratitude does not silence truth.
It restores proportion.

Pattern Four — Finish Before You Chase

New ideas are exciting.

Finishing is often quieter.

New opportunities stimulate us.

Follow-through forms us.

One of the most prosperous patterns we can practice is:

Before pursuing something new,
see what you have already begun all the way through.

Think it through.

See it through.

Let truth come through.

A fruitful life is not built from endless beginnings.

It is strengthened by faithful completion.

Pattern Five — Give Before You Grasp

Scarcity asks:

What can I keep?

Generosity asks:

What can I share?

That does not mean reckless giving.

Wisdom still matters.

Stewardship still matters.

But generosity trains the heart away from fear.

Time.

Attention.

Encouragement.

Prayer.

Resources.

Opportunity.

Whatever we hold too tightly can begin to hold us.

A closed hand cannot give.
It also cannot receive very well.

Pattern Six — Ask Better Questions

Questions shape attention.

Attention shapes decisions.

And decisions shape direction.

A poor question can trap us.

Why is this happening to me?

A better question may open us:

What can God form in me here?

What is true?

What am I missing?

What needs to change?

Who can I serve?

What would faithfulness look like next?

The right question does not always give us the immediate answer.

It can give us a better direction.

A thoughtful question can become a turning point.

Pattern Seven — Return to God Again

Even good patterns break.

We get distracted.

We react badly.

We forget.

We wander.

The goal is not perfection.

It is return.

Return to prayer.

Return to Scripture.

Return to gratitude.

Return to wisdom.

Return to surrender.

Return to Christ.

A prosperous pattern is not never failing.

It is learning where to return when we do.

Objectives, Not Obsession

Prosperous Pattern Objectives should never become another form of self-reliance.

The point is not:

I will perfect myself through better habits.

The point is:

I will cooperate with God by practicing patterns that keep turning me toward Him.

That distinction matters.

Christian growth is not self-salvation.

Discipline cannot replace grace.

Patterns do not become idols.

They become pathways.

The pattern is not the power.
Christ is.

Reflection

What Keeps Repeating?

Ask yourself:

What pattern repeatedly strengthens my faith?

What pattern repeatedly weakens it?

What do I do when I am afraid?

What do I do when I am blessed?

What do I do when I am disappointed?

What do I do when I am excited?

What do I do when I do not know what to do?

Then ask:

Which one pattern, if changed, might improve several areas of my life at once?

Application

Your Turn

Choose one Prosperous Pattern Objective for the next seven days.

Keep it simple.

Examples:

Pray before reacting.

Give thanks before complaining.

Read Scripture before scrolling.

Finish one meaningful task before starting another.

Ask one discerning question before saying yes.

Encourage one person each day.

At the end of each day, ask:

Did this pattern produce good fruit?

Do not aim for perfection.

Look for direction.

Then write:

“Lord, build in me patterns that keep turning me toward You.”

A Noble Prayer

Prosperous Patterns