Good Days Don't Just Happen In One Day

I want to tell you about something that felt really big this week.

You know those days as a parent where everything just… works? Not perfectly. Not unrealistically. But enough that you sit back at the end of the day and think, that was a good day.

My youngest had one of those days this week.

He was named Student of the Week at school — for the second time this year. It was the first thing he told me when I picked him up from the bus stop. I could tell he felt good. When he got home, he immediately started working on something I’d been asking him to do for several days. No reminders. No back-and-forth. He just did it. And he did it well.

Then that evening, I took him to his first official basketball practice of the season. Same coach. Same gym. Same team he’s been playing with for years. They were running drills, and at one point, the coach stopped and said he was the only one in the room doing the drill correctly.

If you know my kid, you know that moment meant something.

He came home, ate dinner, and went to bed tired in the good way — the way that comes from just the right amount of exertion and the satisfaction of doing things right.

When I tucked him in and leaned over to pray with him, I commented,

“I bet today felt really good.”

He smiled and said, “Yeah. It did.”

Then I said something I hope he remembers.

“Today didn’t happen because of what you did today. It happened because of what you did before today.”

You finished all your schoolwork while we were on vacation and turned it in as soon as you were able. 

You’ve spent years practicing on that basketball court with the same coach and the same drills. And you were able to do the thing I asked you to do at home because you remembered what you’d been asked earlier in the week. Those things don’t happen in one day, even if the recognition does. They happen from showing up over and over again.

Now here’s the part that matters to me as his mom. My son has pretty severe ADHD. By his own admission, he’s most motivated when he achieves his goals. But the reality is that days like this don’t come often for him. Not because he doesn’t try. But because ADHD makes something called executive functioning incredibly difficult. It’s the part of the brain that helps you organize, prioritize, decide what to do next, and follow through. For most of us, it’s happening quietly in the background all the time. For kids like him, it’s like trying to drive a car in traffic with the steering wheel missing. It’s not a lack of desire. It’s not laziness. It’s not stubbornness.

Sometimes it’s simply that his brain cannot line up the next right step the way ours does. Most days we are working hard just to get one thing acceptably done. Not three things in a row. Not public recognition. Not praise from coaches. Just one thing.

So when a day like this happens — when all the pieces line up — it feels like Mario hitting the flagpole at the end of a level and a little banner waving over the whole house.

It reminds me of something Scripture says about the way God works in our lives.

“Let us not grow weary in doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.”

— Galatians 6:9

Sometimes the harvest comes quietly.

A worksheet turned in.

A chore remembered.

A drill done right.

Those are the victories most people never see. They are considered insignificant successes. But I think the Lord delights in those kinds of wins with us just as much as he does the big wins.

Scripture reminds us that growth often happens slowly and faithfully, not just in dramatic bursts.

“The one who is faithful in very little is also faithful in much.”

— Luke 16:10

For kids like mine — and maybe for some of us adults too — faithfulness often looks like trying again tomorrow. And the beautiful thing is that God is patient with that process.

“The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in love.”

— Psalm 103:8

So when a good day comes along, we celebrate it. Not because it proves everything is suddenly easy. But because it reminds us that all those unseen days mattered.

Where in your life — or in the life of someone you love — are quiet, faithful efforts building something that hasn’t fully shown up yet?

Sometimes the harvest we’re hoping for is already steadily growing beneath the surface.

Lord, thank You for the small victories that remind us You are at work even when progress feels slow. Give us patience with our children, our families, and ourselves. Help us celebrate the good days without forgetting the faithfulness that built them. Teach us to see the quiet growth You are cultivating in our lives, and give us strength to keep showing up one day at a time. Amen.

Until next time, keep following the Plott, and I will be praying for us all. 💛