When Stephen Curry was in high school, most major college programs overlooked him. Too small. Too skinny. Too unconventional. He didn’t fit the mold. The big schools said no. The media ignored him. Even his success at Davidson College wasn’t enough at first to convince most NBA scouts. But Curry kept working. Every day. Quietly. Obsessively. He chipped away — not just at his game, but at the world’s expectations of what greatness had to look like.

Years later, after changing how the game of basketball is played and becoming a two-time MVP and four-time NBA champion, people call him a “once-in-a-generation talent.” But that’s not really what he is.

He’s a stonecutter.

He just kept swinging.

Everyone wants to win — but very few are willing to do what winning actually requires. Everyone wants the breakthrough, the success, the moment the crowd cheers. But almost no one wants the hundred quiet swings of the hammer that come before it. That’s the difference. That’s the mindset.

Dr. Kevin Elko says it like this: “You lay the train tracks before you ever build the train.” In other words, you prepare the path long before there’s anything impressive to show. You show up, do the work, and keep laying track even when it feels like no train is coming. Most people never see the reward because they quit in the preparation phase. But the people who succeed? They’re the ones who stay with it — swing after swing, day after day — trusting that the train is coming.

This is what journalist and reformer Jacob Riis meant when he wrote:

“When nothing seems to help, I go and look at a stonecutter hammering away at his rock, perhaps a hundred times without as much as a crack showing in it. Yet at the hundred and first blow it will split in two — and I know it was not that blow that did it, but all that had gone before.”

Riis knew what he was talking about. He immigrated to the U.S. from Denmark in the late 1800s with nothing — no money, no job, no safety net. He slept in parks, lived on scraps, and worked whatever odd jobs he could find. But he kept showing up. Eventually, he became a journalist, and he used his camera and his pen to expose the brutal conditions of the New York City slums. He didn’t spark change overnight. It was the result of persistent work — blow after blow. And eventually, the stone cracked: housing reforms, labor laws, and the start of a national conversation. All because he refused to quit.

That’s the mindset I want you to carry.

Your grandmother Cookie has said it all her life:
“Slow and steady wins the race.”

And she’s right (yet again!).

The world will try to sell you speed, shortcuts, and instant results. But most of what really matters — building a career, a relationship, a reputation, a faith — requires patience, consistency, and grit. You’ll be tempted to give up long before the results show up. Don’t.

Because the problem with giving up is this: you never know which swing you’re on. You might be at blow number five. Or fifty. Or ninety-nine. And if you walk away too soon, you may never realize that one more strike could have changed everything. That’s the dangerous part — when you give up, it often feels logical. It feels justified. But the truth is, you may have been right at the edge.

So when things get tough — and they will — don’t flinch. Don’t panic. Don’t complain. Get back in the game. Swing again.

Now, I want to be clear: not every situation deserves your persistence. The stonecutter’s mindset only works if you’re swinging at the right rock. If you’re in a toxic relationship, a company with no integrity, or a dying industry that can’t be saved — don’t confuse that with noble perseverance. That’s misalignment. That’s wasting your hammer.

You need to know the difference between a challenge that’s shaping you and a situation that’s slowly draining you. One builds your future. The other steals it.

Pope Francis once said, “Without progress, there is fossilization.”
When we stop growing, we don’t stay neutral — we harden. We shrink. We lose vitality. Whether in life, faith, work, or relationships, movement is essential. You can’t just keep busy — you have to keep moving forward. If you’re no longer learning, evolving, or becoming more of who you were made to be, then you’re not standing still — you’re calcifying. That’s why you must not only persevere — you must evaluate. Your hammer matters. But your direction matters more.

There is honor in staying the course when the work is good. There is wisdom in walking away when it no longer is.

So hold both truths: Stay in the game long enough to get lucky. But only if you’re playing the right game.

Be patient, but not passive.
Be resilient, but not rigid.
Persevere when others quit — but stay alert to when it’s time to pivot.

You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to be the kind of person who doesn’t walk away from hard things too soon. You don’t complain. You reset. You get back in the game. And you keep swinging.

You may not see the crack forming, but it is. Every swing counts. The hundredth blow only works because of the ninety-nine that came before it.

And then, one day, the stone splits.

It may not happen with fireworks. No crowd will roar. But something in you will shift. You’ll feel it — that quiet click of inner certainty. The work paid off. The habit held. The breakthrough came. And you’ll know — with total clarity — you did it.

That moment stays with you.

Because it’s not just about the result. It’s about what happened in you while you kept showing up. You became the kind of person who doesn’t quit. The kind of person who does the work — even when it’s hard, even when it’s invisible. That shapes something permanent in your character. It builds a kind of self-respect that can’t be bought or borrowed.

And from then on, something powerful happens:
You start to trust yourself.
You start to believe that if you show up and do the work, things will move.
You start to carry the quiet confidence of someone who knows how to build momentum — in anything.

That’s how real confidence is formed. Not by hype. Not by success handed to you. But by becoming the kind of person who earns it — swing by swing.

And once that’s in you, it’s yours for life.