Work: The Discipline That Shapes Us and the Provision That Sustains Us

18.2.6 Load-Bearing Series: Essay 6

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Related: Load-Bearing Series Introduction · Foundation Series Introduction · Essay 1 (Family) · Essay 2 (Faith) · Essay 3 (Community) · Essay 4 (Health) · Essay 5 (Passions)

Welcome

Work has always carried meaning in my life. The ethic came from my parents and grandparents, who taught that labor is not only about income. It is also about responsibility, accountability, connection, and contribution. Through their example, I came to understand that effort is both a privilege and a calling. It shapes character and allows us to provide for the people we love.

Over time, it became clear that this pillar has two sides. One side is discipline. The other side is provision. Discipline is the act of showing up, completing the work that is ours to do, and continuing to learn. Provision is the gift that flows from labor and creates stability, opportunity, and generosity for others. This essay holds both sides together. It is written for my daughters so that they may define a healthy and grounded relationship with work and provision as they grow.

Early Lessons: Small Ventures and Standing Up

Some of my earliest memories involve the small neighborhood ventures that my brother Paul and I created together. One of our first ideas featured marigolds planted in Styrofoam cups, stacked in our Radio Flyer wagon, and sold door to door for twenty-five cents each. Not long after, we began making bath salts in the basement laundry room. Baking soda, food coloring, and fragrance became part of a tiny assembly line. We spooned the mixture into mason jars, added fabric and ribbon, and sold them for around two dollars each. Those jars carried more than bath salts. They carried lessons in creativity, courage, and follow-through.

By age ten, my attention shifted to the golf course near our home. I searched the creek and the roughs for golf balls in the early morning and late evening. At home, the balls were cleaned, sorted, and returned to the pro shop where I sold them for twenty-five cents each. One afternoon, I arrived with a bag of sixty or seventy balls. The man behind the counter grabbed the bag, announced that he had finally found the boy who had been collecting the balls, and sent me away with nothing.

When I told my mom what had happened, she asked me to sit in the front seat of the car. We drove to the pro shop. She spoke calmly and firmly. The man paid fifty cents for each ball. With that money, I bought a live trap that I used at our family cabin to study squirrels and chipmunks before releasing them. Eventually the trap disappeared, but the lesson stayed. Hard work has value. Some people will try to take advantage of that value. Sometimes we need the courage to stand up for ourselves and for others.

By age fourteen, a small animal business had taken shape. Hedgehogs and other unusual animals were bred and sold. Even with that success, each of us in the family was expected to have a job outside the home. One sibling worked at McDonalds, another at TBCYogurt, another at Padelford Riverboats, and another bagged groceries at Byerlys. My later teenage years were spent working at Mail Boxes Etc., now known as The UPS Store. Packing, shipping, and serving customers became an unexpected source of interest. The income was mine to keep, but the message was clear. Work mattered. Work was expected. Work was honored.

Detours, Education, and a New Direction

As the years passed, work became closely tied to calling. My first trip to Indonesia, Malaysia, and Singapore came at age seventeen. Soon after graduating high school early, I returned to Indonesian New Guinea at age eighteen for my first true adventure alone. The experience confirmed what I believed to be my direction. Wildlife conservation and community development felt like the path I was meant to follow.

At the same time, something painful unfolded at home. After subtle signs that none of us could explain, my mom received a diagnosis of early-onset Alzheimer’s when I was nineteen. My dad rarely asked anything of me, but he asked me to attend university. I had struggled throughout school with ADHD and dyslexia. School had never felt like a place where I belonged. I had convinced myself that I would never go to college. I had not even taken the ACT or the SAT.

Yet I agreed. My mom and I drove to the University of Saint Thomas a week before the fall semester began. Somehow, the admissions office allowed me to enroll. It became a turning point for two reasons. It pulled me away from what I believed to be a direct route back to the jungle. It also became the first time I truly enjoyed education. Professors invested in me. Friendships formed easily. My business degree grew out of a sense of purpose that had never felt possible in earlier years.

When I accepted admission, I asked for one condition. I needed flexibility to continue my work in Indonesia. Through creative planning and generous support, I spent roughly half of each year there. Longer summer breaks and extended trips during the academic year allowed me to serve, learn, and deepen my love for that part of the world while also preparing for a future career.

Paying Dues and Finding Gratitude in My Career

After graduating in 2000, I returned to Indonesia hoping to remain indefinitely. After a little more than a year, the events of September 11 reshaped the world. It became more difficult to remain overseas. I returned home to Minnesota during a time when few companies were hiring. I sent proposals to Cargill and Toro, offering to work for free if there was a pathway back to Asia, the place that had captured my heart and imagination.

Toro responded first and sent me to Singapore for four months as an intern. I have remained with the company ever since. During those early assignments, when I was paid to travel the world, I sometimes had to pause and take in what was happening. It hardly seemed real that I was serving people I admired in countries I had always wanted to visit. I built relationships, gained experience, and contributed in ways that brought meaning and joy.

That chapter did not appear without the chapters that came before it. Each earlier venture, from marigolds to golf balls to hedgehogs, taught discipline, resourcefulness, perseverance, resilience, and gratitude. When I look back at my work life, it is clear that paying my dues became preparation for later opportunity. Work is not always easy. It is not always glamorous. Yet it often becomes meaningful in ways that cannot be seen at the beginning.

Do I have my dream job? No, at least not my definition of one. Have I experienced a career filled with moments of joy, learning, and blessing? Absolutely yes. Some tasks can be tiring. Some stretches of time feel stagnant. Some responsibilities feel heavy. Even so, I have been able to contribute, provide for my family, travel to remarkable places, meet new business partners, solve real problems, and learn every single day. For that, I am deeply grateful.

Compassion, Provision, and Financial Stewardship

Whenever I reflect on work and provision, which I do often, I think about those whose experience has been more difficult. Some people do everything they can. They arrive early, stay late, and sometimes hold two or three jobs at once. Even then, they struggle to meet basic needs. When I meet someone who has lost a position or feels the weight of financial insecurity, my heart goes out to them. The ache of wanting to provide yet feeling unable to do so is real.

For this reason, those who have stable and gainful employment carry a responsibility not to take that stability for granted. A paycheck is not only a reward. It is a trust. It allows us to care for our families, support our communities, pay taxes that sustain schools and services, and show generosity to others. God gives hands, minds, and outlooks so that work can create a better world, not only through the tasks we complete but also through the way our resources are used.

My parents modeled this stewardship. They taught that money is a tool, not a scoreboard. They also showed that consistent discipline creates a freedom that may not be visible at first but becomes meaningful over time. That discipline begins with showing up and continues with the choices we make with what we earn.

Saving, Investing, and Living Below Our Means

One of the most practical lessons my dad taught me was the value of saving and investing. When I joined Toro as an intern, my wage was ten dollars an hour. Eight months later, after I was officially hired and became eligible for the company 401(k) plan, my dad strongly encouraged me to participate, even though my income was modest. Parting with those dollars was difficult, but I listened.

From the moment I was eligible, I contributed as much as possible. For a long time, the contributions felt invisible, almost as if they were disappearing into a fog. Slowly, compounding began to reveal itself. What seemed small at first became noticeable, then meaningful. I studied where each dollar was invested, made thoughtful adjustments, and learned not to overtend the account.

The week between Christmas and New Year’s has long been a time of rest and reflection. It also became the week when I review my portfolio, study performance, and rebalance if needed. The process has never been perfect, but it has been consistent. That consistency has quietly strengthened the provision pillar of my life.

Along the way, lifestyle decisions reflected the same discipline. My first home was modest. I have never upsized. I do not purchase new cars. Every vehicle I have owned, other than my first two, has been bought used. I learned that each dollar invested today carries the potential to multiply over time through compounding. This does not mean we never spend. It means we choose with care.

I also learned the difference between frugality and cheapness. Frugality means choosing the best quality we can reasonably afford so that things last and sometimes gain value. Cheapness is short-sighted and often leads to more waste. In every community where I have lived and worked, I have tried to be generous without chasing purchases that offer only temporary satisfaction or the hope of impressing someone else. Financial discipline is not about fear. It is about freedom.

Conversations That Shape How We See Work

Over the years, I have had conversations that reminded me how important it is to pass on what we have learned. While hunting for my last car, I spoke with a young salesperson who told me that this might be the right time to enroll in the 401(k) plan the dealership offered. The salesperson was twenty-four years old. I asked how long this person expected to work and heard an answer close to age sixty-five.

We then did some quick math together. I explained that if someone at his age is able to contribute meaningfully to a 401(k) between ages twenty-four and thirty, each year of investment has several decades to compound. Under the right conditions, it is possible for a single year of early contributions to grow into a very large amount by retirement. We spent more time with a calculator than we did talking about the car. Financial knowledge and discipline are among the greatest gifts my parents gave me, and sharing that knowledge with others feels like one small way to honor that gift.

Another conversation that stays with me took place with an intern who sat just outside my office one summer. This person did not report to me, but we often found ways to collaborate. One day, as the internship was drawing to a close, the intern mentioned that once full-time employment began after graduation, they expected to be able to complete forty hours of assigned work in perhaps twenty-five hours.

When I heard this, I smiled and said something like, “Now imagine what you can do with the additional fifteen hours you will still be committed to the company that hires you.” The intern looked slightly puzzled. I continued, sharing that if someone is paid for forty hours, it is reasonable to offer at least that much in return. The extra time, after the core responsibilities are completed, is often where the magical work begins. That is where new skills can be built, special projects can be taken on, colleagues can be supported, and value can be created that no one explicitly assigned.

That insight came from my dad as well. He told me that when we are fortunate to have a position that offers some flexibility, we should first complete the tasks that are clearly expected. Once those responsibilities are met, we can use additional time to make the organization better, to simplify broken processes, and to grow ourselves. Over the years, I have met people who want to jump directly to the most exciting parts of a job without first mastering what they were hired to do. The order matters. First we meet expectations. Then we build something special on top of them.

Pulling It Together: Key Practices for Impact (my KPIs)

In the Load-Bearing Series Introduction, I reframed the familiar term KPI as Key Practices for Impact, a way to think about daily choices rather than business metrics. Many leaders associate KPIs with financial performance. I see them as anchors that align intention, behavior, and legacy. Work and provision form one of those load-bearing pillars. They stay strong only when supported by habits that hold character, contribution, and stewardship together.

Prioritize: Remember that my vocation is not just about income. It is about character, contribution, and the ability to provide for others with integrity.

Practice: Show up fully in the role I have today, complete the responsibilities that are clearly mine, and then use extra time and energy to create additional value and to keep learning.

Impact: Let the way I work, give, and invest become visible in the security of my family, the health of the communities I serve, and the opportunities I am able to create for others.

Measurable Elements

• In my daily role: Complete the core responsibilities of my position with excellence, communicate clearly with colleagues, and regularly look for one or two ways each quarter to improve a process or serve a partner more effectively.
• In periods of uncertainty: Maintain a rhythm of investing, even if the amount is small, and avoid impulsive financial decisions driven by fear, comparison, or ego.
• In generosity: Set aside a consistent portion of income for giving, supporting causes and people that align with my values and help build a more just, hopeful, and compassionate world.
• In lifestyle: Choose homes, cars, and possessions that align with long-term peace rather than short-term status, and remember that living below my means increases my ability to serve others.
• In mentoring others: Share what I have learned about work, provision, and investing with younger colleagues and friends, especially when they ask honest questions about money, calling, and long-term planning.

Reflection Point

Work is not only the task in front of us. It is the discipline that shapes who we become and the provision that allows us to care for those entrusted to us.

The Lesson: Work and Provision as a Load-Bearing Pillar

• Work is a place where character, competence, and calling meet. It is not only what we do, but who we become while we are doing it.
• Provision is more than a paycheck. It is the stability, opportunity, and generosity that careful stewardship can create across decades and across generations.
• When we combine steady effort with thoughtful saving, giving, and mentoring, our labor becomes part of a story much larger than our own careers.

Practical Takeaways

1. Clarify the expectations of your current role. Write them down, review them, and make sure you are consistently meeting what is clearly required before reaching for what is optional.
2. Look for ways to create value beyond your job description. Use the extra time that comes from working efficiently to support others, improve systems, and build new skills.
3. Begin or continue a disciplined pattern of saving and investing. Even modest contributions can grow significantly over time when given the gift of consistency and compounding.
4. Choose lifestyle decisions that support long-term peace. Evaluate housing, vehicles, and other major expenses through the lens of freedom, generosity, and future opportunity, not only through the lens of today’s desires.
5. Notice those who are working hard and still struggling. Offer encouragement, practical help when appropriate, and a listening ear that honors the weight they carry.

Two Questions to Explore

• When you look at your current work, what parts are shaping your character in ways that you are grateful for, and where might you choose a different response to grow in a healthier direction?
• What is one concrete step you can take in the next thirty days to strengthen your provision pillar, whether through saving, giving, learning, or adjusting a lifestyle decision?

Further Resources

• Every Good Endeavor by Timothy Keller with Katherine Leary Alsdorf. A thoughtful exploration of how faith, calling, and daily labor can be woven together in a way that brings meaning to both work and rest.
• The Millionaire Next Door by Thomas J. Stanley and William D. Danko. A research-based look at how ordinary families build quiet wealth through discipline, frugality, and long-term thinking rather than status-driven spending.
• Your Money or Your Life by Vicki Robin and Joe Dominguez. A practical and reflective guide to aligning spending, saving, and work with the values that matter most, and to seeing money as a tool for freedom rather than a measure of worth.

Thank you for being part of my journey. Putting these thoughts on paper reminds me how much work and provision, when approached with humility and discipline, can serve not only our own households but also the wider communities we love. I hope these reflections encourage you to see your own labor and resources as part of a larger story of meaning, service, and hope.

Live. Lead. Love.
Billy

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Explore the Load-Bearing Series · Explore the Foundation Series · Essay 1 (Family) · Essay 2 (Faith) · Essay 3 (Community) · Essay 4 (Health) · Essay 5 (Passions)