Do Well With This

by Larry Lundstrom

Pray. Work. Vow. Vote. Rest.

Arguably, some of the most important things you’ll do in life. These five actions affect every decision, every corner of your being. They don’t just shape the days we live—they determine the legacy we leave behind.

I’ve lived enough years to know that simplicity often holds the deepest wisdom. These five principles—pray, work, vow, vote, rest—aren’t a to-do list. They’re a rhythm, a cadence that beats steady through joy and pain, triumph and tragedy. And they began for me on a warm September afternoon at a little white church on the shores of Lake Conroe, Texas.

That was the day I said “I do” to Myra.

She walked down the aisle to the sound of rustling pine trees and a faint breeze off the water. The way she looked at me—like we’d already spent a lifetime together—made the moment holy. There were no grand cathedrals, no orchestras, no gilded altars. Just her, me, and a promise. A vow to love, honor, and fight for one another no matter what came next.

What came next was a lifetime.

We disappeared to Wimberley for our honeymoon, a small Texas hill country town where the cypress trees arch over the Blanco River. We spent hours walking beneath those trees, dreaming about our future. Back then, we couldn’t have known what it would hold: three beautiful children, more joys than we deserved, and grief that could shatter a heart.

Blake, now 27, serves in the U.S. Coast Guard. Chloe, 22, is soaring through the skies with Breeze Airways, based in Charleston, South Carolina. And Colby… Colby would have been 24. But God had other plans.

We only had eleven days to fight alongside Colby at Texas Children’s Hospital in Houston. Eleven days that stretched into an eternity and ended far too soon. Leukemia claimed his body, but not his soul. He’s in Heaven now, where I imagine him running, laughing, and waiting for us to join him.

I remember the day I prayed for God to move mountains so I could have just one more hug with my boy. It was the kind of prayer you don’t plan or rehearse. It was raw and desperate, the kind of prayer that only comes when every human effort falls short.

That’s when God answered.

It happened in a storm. Rain poured like oceans spilling from Heaven. I sat in the car, numb and broken, and suddenly, it was as though God Himself entered that space with me. His love crashed over me in waves, relentless and tender, filling every crack in my shattered heart. It wasn’t a hug from Colby, but it was something better. It was the assurance that Colby was safe, that Heaven was real, and that God’s love was more than enough.

That moment anchored me. It’s why I can pray, even when the answers don’t look the way I expect.

So, if you ask me what it means to do well with a little, I’ll tell you this: start with these five things.

Pray like the world depends on it. Work like you’re building something eternal. Keep your vows, even when it’s hard. Vote with wisdom, not just for yourself, but for the generations to come. And rest, knowing that it’s not all up to you.

And maybe, just maybe, you’ll find that a little becomes more than enough.

Do Well With a Little

The power of prayer has carried me through every season of life. It is the lifeline that connects us to the One who created us, the One who already knows the storms ahead and walks with us through them.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:6-7).

That peace—the kind only God can give—was what we clung to when we said our vows at the little church on Lake Conroe. We had no idea what was in store for us. We couldn’t have imagined the struggles we’d face, the heartbreak we’d endure, or the ways our faith would be tested. But we had each other, and most importantly, we had God.

On that day, we vowed to stand together in sickness and health, in joy and sorrow, for better or worse. What we didn’t know then—but have learned over decades—is that God’s presence in our marriage was the glue that held it all together. In Him, our promises became more than words. They became a covenant, an unshakable foundation for our life together.

The Significance of Work

Work is another thread in this tapestry of life, woven tightly with prayer and faithfulness. Work is more than a paycheck or a way to pass the hours; it’s a calling. God’s first command to Adam and Eve in the garden was to work: “The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it” (Genesis 2:15).

Whatever the task—whether it’s raising children, serving in the Coast Guard like Blake, or soaring through the skies like Chloe—our work is an act of worship. It’s a way to glorify God by using the gifts He’s given us. Even in seasons of grief, I found purpose in work, trusting that the effort I put forth would bear fruit in God’s time.

The Importance of Voting

Voting may seem like a small act, but it’s a profound one. It’s the moment when we step outside ourselves and consider the world we’re helping shape. When I vote, I think about the kind of future I want for my children, for Blake and Chloe, and for the world Colby would have grown up in.

“Seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper” (Jeremiah 29:7).

We may not always agree on policies or candidates, but we can agree on the importance of being faithful stewards of the opportunities God has given us. Voting is a way to love our neighbor, to seek justice, and to stand for what is good and right.

The Necessity of Rest

Finally, there is rest. Rest is not a luxury; it’s a command. In a world that glorifies busyness, rest reminds us that we are not God. It is He who holds the world together, not us.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:28-29).

When Colby went to Heaven, rest felt impossible. But I’ve learned that true rest isn’t just physical—it’s spiritual. It’s trusting that God’s plans are good, even when they don’t make sense. Rest is laying down our burdens at His feet and allowing Him to carry what we cannot.

Connecting the Dots

Each of these—prayer, work, vow, vote, and rest—is hugely important. They are not isolated acts but interconnected threads that form the fabric of a life well-lived. Prayer fuels our work. Work strengthens our commitments. Our vows guide the way we vote. And rest reminds us that all of it rests in God’s hands.

“Pray as though everything depended on God. Work as though everything depended on you.”

– St. Augustine

Looking back, I can see how these principles have shaped our family. The day we said “I do” at that little church on Lake Conroe, we didn’t know the future, but we knew God.

That was enough. It still is.

Through prayer, we’ve found peace. Through work, we’ve found purpose. Through our vows, we’ve found strength. Through voting, we’ve shaped the world around us. And through rest, we’ve found the assurance that no matter what comes, God is with us.

And that is how you do well with a little—by trusting the One who can turn it into more than enough.