WHAT YOU’LL LEARN
Have you accepted a story about yourself? That you’re not a leader. Not creative. Not disciplined. Not the kind of person who changes.
And you’re going to live that story for the rest of your life?
Lectio Vitae – The Mindset Series | Episode 5: The Growth Mindset
In this fifth episode, we’re exploring what happens when you stop believing the limits you’ve been told—and start believing in the person you could become. When a fisherman becomes a rock. When failure becomes fuel. When “I can’t” becomes “I haven’t yet.”
Through Scripture, saints who transformed from the inside out, and the compound power of small, consistent growth: a growth mindset isn’t wishful thinking. It’s the belief that actually works. You’ll discover the difference between your current ability and your permanent ability. Between the ceiling you’ve accepted and the ceiling that was never real.
Your potential might be hidden. But your transformation depends on what you choose to believe about it.
Hosted by MP, CORAC’s executive director.
LISTEN TO EPISODE 5
THE GROWTH MINDSET
Introduction
Remember the first four talks? Focus showed you where you’re headed. Discipline kept the steering wheel pointed in the right direction. Perseverance kept you moving forward even when the road was invisible. Adaptability taught you to change course without losing your vision.
But here’s what I haven’t shared: All of that only works if you believe you can actually change.
And here’s something else I need to say upfront: Time matters. Growth matters. Now matters.
The Catholic Church teaches something that should terrify and motivate us in equal measure: Only the pure enter heaven. Not eventually. Not after some cosmic cleanup. Now. In their final state.
But here’s the mercy in that teaching: God doesn’t send us to purgation because He’s cruel. He sends us there because He loves us too much to let us stay broken. Purgation is what happens when we die still carrying the weight of our unhealed selves—still selfish, still prideful, still bound to things that don’t matter.
St. Paul understood this urgency. He wrote: “Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies.” (1 Corinthians 6:19-20)
That’s not just about physical purity. That’s about becoming pure—becoming whole, becoming holy, becoming the person God created you to be.
So here’s the question: Why wait until death to become pure? Why carry that weight into eternity? Why not get serious about transformation now?
Because the truth is this: The growth you refuse to do now, you’ll have to do later. And it will be infinitely harder.
Jesus said: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.” (Matthew 5:8) Not the perfect. Not the sinless. The pure in heart—the people who are committed to becoming clean, to becoming whole, to becoming who God made them to be.
That’s available to you right now. Not in purgation. Not after death. Now.
So today we’re talking about The Growth Mindset, something I sometimes think of as how to become dangerous to evil characters, a force to be reckoned with in our mission—but more cleanly put, how to become pure. This isn’t about positive thinking or affirmations that you say in the mirror while crying. This is about the radical belief that you’re not finished. That who you are right now is not who you’re going to be. That your limitations are not permanent—they’re just your current address, not your final destination.
And here’s the thing: Every day you delay that growth, you’re choosing a harder path. You’re choosing purgation over transformation. You’re choosing to carry that weight.
This is also, it turns out, extremely biblical. Which is funny because we’ve been preaching it for 2,000 years and only lately I decided to create some self-help talks about it.
The Lie We’ve Been Told
You’ve been fed a narrative your whole life: Your abilities are fixed.
You’re either good at math or you’re not. You’re either naturally gifted at public speaking or you’re not. You’re either creative or you’re not. You’re either a leader or you’re not. You’re either the kind of person who can change or you’re the kind of person who can’t.
This is the fixed mindset—and it’s basically spiritual laziness dressed up as realism.
Here’s the problem: If you believe your talents are fixed, then effort becomes pointless. Why practice public speaking if you’re “just not a speaker”? Why try to be more disciplined if “you’re just not a disciplined person”? Why attempt to grow if you’ve already hit your ceiling?
But what if that ceiling was imaginary? What if it was just a story you told yourself?
St. Peter understood this. Here was a fisherman. No formal education. No theological training. Impulsive. Prone to mistakes. The kind of guy who’d speak before thinking, act before planning, and then have to apologize later. He was basically the ancient equivalent of someone who’s terrible at first impressions—which is saying something for a guy who literally met the Son of God.
And Jesus looked at him and said: “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church.” (Matthew 16:18)
Jesus didn’t say, “You’re going to be the foundation of my church once you get your act together.” He said it right then—when Peter was still impulsive, still making mistakes, still very much a work in progress. Jesus saw not who Peter was, but who Peter could become.
The fixed mindset sounds just like Popeye: “I yam what I yam.”
The growth mindset says: “I am what I’m becoming.”
Those are two completely different universes.
The Man Who Denied Everything and Became Everything
St. Peter’s arc is basically the growth mindset in human form.
Peter starts as a fisherman. Jesus calls him. Peter follows. But here’s the thing: Peter is constantly getting it wrong. He misunderstands Jesus’s teachings. He speaks out of turn. He cuts off a guard’s ear in the garden. He’s the guy who’s always saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.
But Jesus doesn’t give up. He keeps teaching, correcting, pushing Peter to grow.
Then comes the ultimate failure: Peter denies Jesus three times. Not once. Not twice. Three times. He literally says, “I don’t know this man,” while Jesus is being tried for his life.
Peter’s done. He’s failed. He’s probably thinking, “Well, that’s it. I’m not cut out for this. I’m just a fisherman. I should’ve stayed with the nets.”
But then Jesus rises from the dead. And instead of firing Peter, Jesus restores him. Jesus asks him three times, “Do you love me?” (John 21:15-17) Peter gets to undo his denials.
Jesus is saying: “Your failure doesn’t define you. You get to grow past this.”
And Peter does. After the resurrection, Peter becomes the rock. He leads the church. He speaks with such power that thousands convert. He goes from the guy who denied Jesus to the guy willing to die for Jesus. And eventually, he does—crucified upside down because he didn’t feel worthy to die the same way Jesus did.
That’s transformation. Not because Peter was naturally talented, but because he refused to accept his failures as permanent.
He was a fisherman. Then a disciple. Then an apostle. Then the leader of the church. Then a martyr. Each stage required him to grow into something he wasn’t yet.
And he did it.
The Trap: Confusing Your Current Ability with Your Permanent Ability
Here’s where most people get stuck: They confuse where they are with where they’re stuck.
You’re not good at public speaking right now. That doesn’t mean you can’t become good at it. You’re not disciplined yet. You’re not creative currently. “Not yet” is very different from “never.”
The fixed mindset hears “You’re not good at this” and translates it as “You will never be good at this.”
The growth mindset hears “You’re not good at this yet” and translates it as “Here’s where I need to put in work.”
One is a death sentence. The other is an invitation.
Billy Graham understood this. Here was a kid from North Carolina with a thick Southern accent, no formal theological training, and a stutter. By conventional wisdom, he had absolutely no business becoming one of the most influential preachers of the 20th century.
But Graham didn’t accept the fixed mindset narrative. He practiced. He studied. He preached to anyone who would listen. He worked on his delivery, his theology, his ability to connect with people. He wasn’t born a great preacher. He became one.
The result? He preached to over 215 million people in his lifetime. Not because he was naturally talented, but because he refused to accept his current limitations as permanent.
He started as a nervous kid with a stutter. He ended as a prophet who shaped nations. The difference wasn’t his starting point. The difference was his belief that he could change.
The Three Movements of Growth
Movement One: You Have to See It First
Before you can become something different, you have to believe it’s possible.
Jesus doesn’t meet Peter and say, “Well, you’re a fisherman, so you’ll always be a fisherman.” He meets Peter and sees something Peter doesn’t see in himself.
Jesus says: “So you are Simon son of John. You will be called Cephas (which, when translated, is Peter).” (John 1:42)
In other words: “Your name is going to change. Your identity is going to change. You’re going to become someone different.”
Jesus gives Peter a vision of who he can become before Peter has any evidence it’s possible. Peter is just a fisherman. But Jesus sees a rock. Jesus sees a foundation. Jesus sees an apostle.
St. Francis of Assisi understood this principle of vision before evidence. He was a wealthy merchant’s son living a life of luxury and excess. He was vain, pleasure-seeking, and completely disconnected from any spiritual reality. By all accounts, he was the last person who would become a saint.
But then something shifted. Francis had a vision of who he could become. He saw himself not as a wealthy merchant destined to inherit his father’s business, but as a servant of God, radically committed to poverty, peace, and the poor.
He said: “It is no use walking anywhere to preach unless our walking is our preaching.”
Francis didn’t see himself as limited by his past or his circumstances. He saw himself as capable of becoming something completely different. He had the vision before he had the evidence. And that vision changed everything.
He became a saint not because he had extraordinary gifts, but because he had an extraordinary vision of who he could become and the radical commitment to pursue it. He renounced his wealth, embraced poverty, and became the founder of one of the most influential religious orders in history. He went from a spoiled rich kid to the patron saint of the poor and the environment. Talk about a growth mindset.
The growth mindset starts with vision. You have to see the possibility before you can pursue it.
Movement Two: You Have to Do the Work
But vision without effort is just daydreaming.
Peter didn’t just have a vision of becoming a rock. He had to do the work. He had to follow Jesus for three years. He had to learn. He had to fail repeatedly. He had to get corrected. He had to grow.
Then after the resurrection, Peter had to keep working. He had to preach. He had to lead. He had to face opposition. He had to travel. He had to suffer. He had to die.
The growth didn’t happen because Jesus waved a magic wand. It happened because Peter was willing to put in the effort.
St. Ignatius of Loyola understood this. He founded the Jesuits with a radical commitment to “finding God in all things.” But that wasn’t passive. It required constant work, constant discernment, constant growth.
Ignatius said: “Act as if everything depends on you; pray as if everything depends on God.” Put in the work. Do your part. Don’t sit around waiting for miracles—create the conditions for them.
Ignatius didn’t just have a vision. He built systems. He created disciplines. He trained people. He did the unglamorous work of actually making transformation happen.
The Jesuits became one of the most influential religious orders in the world. Not through magic, but through thousands of people committing to daily growth, daily practice, daily improvement.
Vision plus effort equals transformation.
Movement Three: You Have to Learn from Failure
Here’s where most people quit: When they fail.
They try something. It doesn’t work. And suddenly they’re convinced they’re not cut out for it. They interpret failure as evidence of permanent inability instead of evidence that they need to try a different approach.
But Peter had a different relationship with failure. Peter failed constantly while following Jesus. He misunderstood teachings. He spoke out of turn. He acted impulsively. He made mistakes.
But he learned from every failure. Jesus would correct him, and Peter would adjust. Peter would try again. Peter would grow.
Then came the ultimate failure: denying Jesus three times. Peter probably thought his life was over. “I’m not cut out for this. I failed when it mattered most.”
But then Jesus appeared after the resurrection. Instead of condemning Peter, Jesus restored him. Peter got to undo his denials. Peter got to grow past his failure.
Mother Teresa had a similar relationship with failure. Her first years in Calcutta were chaotic. She was working with people dying in the streets with no system, no resources, no experience. She failed constantly.
But she learned from every failure. She adjusted her approach. She built the Missionaries of Charity not from a place of perfection, but from persistent learning.
She said: “If I ever become a saint—I will surely be one of ‘storm.'” Translation: My path won’t be smooth, and that’s exactly how it should be.
The growth mindset doesn’t say “Don’t fail.” It says “Fail, learn, adjust, try again.”
The Compound Effect
Here’s what most people miss about growth: It’s not about one massive transformation. It’s about consistent, incremental change over time.
Think about it:
The person who reads one book a year will have read 50 books in 50 years. That’s expertise.
The person who practices one skill for 30 minutes daily will be world-class in a few years.
The person who learns from every failure becomes virtually unstoppable.
Peter’s transformation wasn’t overnight. It took three years following Jesus. Then years leading the church. Then decades preaching, traveling, suffering, and growing. By the time Peter was martyred, he had become something completely different from the impulsive fisherman he started as.
But it didn’t happen all at once. It happened through thousands of small decisions to learn, to grow, to try again.
Ronald Reagan understood this principle perfectly. Reagan wasn’t born a great communicator—he became one through decades of deliberate practice. He started as a radio sports announcer, fumbling through broadcasts. He moved into acting, spending years honing his craft in B-movies, learning how to move, how to deliver a line, how to connect with an audience.
But Reagan didn’t stop there. He spent years as a corporate spokesman for General Electric, traveling the country, giving speeches, refining his ability to communicate complex ideas simply.
By the time Reagan became president, he had spent over fifty years developing his communication skills. He wasn’t a natural orator who just showed up and was brilliant. He was a man who had put in the work. He had failed in movies. He had bombed speeches early in his career. But he kept working. He kept improving.
The result? One of the most effective communicators in American history. Not because he was naturally talented, but because he refused to accept his current abilities as his final abilities.
Reagan often said: “The greatest leader is not necessarily the one who does the greatest things. He is the one that gets the people to do the greatest things.” And he understood that to do that, he had to keep growing, keep learning, keep improving.
This is the compound effect of the growth mindset. You don’t transform overnight. You transform through thousands of small decisions to improve, to learn, to try again. Reagan didn’t become “The Great Communicator” overnight. He became it through fifty years of consistent effort, failure, learning, and adaptation.
C.S. Lewis understood this too. He was brilliant, but his early writings were clunky. His arguments needed refinement. His prose was pedestrian. But he kept writing. He kept learning. He kept improving.
By the time he wrote Mere Christianity, he had become a master of his craft—not because he was naturally talented, but because he had committed to consistent growth. He had written hundreds of thousands of words. He had failed publicly. He had learned from every failure.
The result? One of the most influential Christian books ever written.
The Reframe
Here’s the practical stuff: The moment you reframe your limitations as challenges, everything changes.
Instead of: “I’m not good at public speaking.” Try: “I haven’t developed my public speaking skills yet.”
Instead of: “I’m not a leader.” Try: “I’m learning to become a leader.”
Instead of: “I’m not disciplined.” Try: “I’m building my discipline muscle.”
See the difference? The first is a death sentence. The second is an invitation to growth.
St. Peter understood this. After denying Jesus, he could have stayed stuck in shame. He could have said, “I’m a coward. I’m a failure. I’m not cut out for this.” He could have gone back to fishing.
But instead, Peter reframed his failure. He didn’t say, “I’m a coward.” He said, “I failed, and now I’m learning what it means to be brave.” He didn’t say, “I’m not a leader.” He said, “I’m becoming a leader through my failures.”
And that reframe changed everything. It allowed Peter to grow past his denial. It allowed him to become the rock Jesus said he would become.
The Integration with Adaptability
Here’s where the growth mindset connects to everything we’ve talked about before.
Remember adaptability? It’s about changing your method while staying committed to your goal. But you can only do that if you believe you can actually change.
If you have a fixed mindset, adaptability is just spinning your wheels. You change your method, but you don’t believe the new method will work because you don’t believe you can work.
But if you have a growth mindset, adaptability becomes powerful. You can change your method because you believe you can learn the new method. You can pivot because you believe you can become someone who thrives in the new direction.
The growth mindset is what makes adaptability actually work.
Peter experienced this. His original calling was to be a fisherman. But then Jesus called him to something completely different. Peter had to adapt. He had to learn new skills. He had to become a new person.
With a fixed mindset, Peter might have thought: “I’m a fisherman. That’s who I am. I can’t learn to be an apostle.” And he would have stayed in the boat.
But Peter had a growth mindset. He believed he could change. So when Jesus called him to adapt, Peter was willing to do it.
The commitment stayed. The method changed. And Peter grew into his new calling.
You were a sidewalk counselor for five years, but you’re burning out. With a fixed mindset, you think: “I guess I’m just not cut out for pro-life work.” You quit entirely.
With a growth mindset, you think: “This particular form isn’t working for me anymore. But I’m committed to defending life. What’s a different way I can do that?” Maybe you become a fundraiser for a pregnancy resource center. Maybe you shift to adoption advocacy. Maybe you become a mentor to women after they’ve chosen life. Maybe you step back and serve part-time while doing something else.
The commitment stays. The method changes. And you can make that shift because you believe you can actually grow into the new role.
The Seasons of Growth
But here’s something important: Growth doesn’t look the same in every season.
Peter’s growth looked different at different times. When he was first following Jesus, his growth was about learning and understanding. He was asking questions. He was making mistakes. He was growing in knowledge.
But after the resurrection, Peter’s growth looked different. It was about leading. It was about speaking with authority. It was about suffering for his faith. The season changed, and the way Peter grew changed with it.
There’s a season when you’re on fire with new faith. You’re reading the Bible constantly. You’re going to every event. You’re telling everyone about Jesus. You’re basically that friend who won’t stop talking about their new passion. This is beautiful. This is necessary. This is also exhausting.
But if you try to maintain that season forever, you’ll burn out. The intensity becomes exhausting. The fervor becomes performative. You lose the depth.
Maybe it’s time to shift into a season of contemplation. Maybe it’s time to go deeper rather than wider. Maybe it’s time to practice silence instead of constant activity. Maybe it’s time to remember why you started this in the first place.
St. Pier Giorgio Frassati understood something crucial about seasons of growth that most young people never learn. He was a young Italian Catholic—handsome, athletic, popular, the kind of guy who could have had it all in the worldly sense. But he made a choice to live differently.
Frassati didn’t become a monk or a priest. He stayed in the world. He went to university. He had friends. He went hiking and skiing. He lived a normal life on the surface. But underneath, he had a radical spiritual commitment. He visited the poor in the slums. He gave away his money. He prayed constantly. He lived with a joy that confused people who knew him.
He said something like: “To live without faith, without a patrimony to defend, without a continuous struggle against evil, is not to live, but to vegetate.” He understood that real growth—real living—requires struggle, requires choosing something higher even when the world is offering you comfort.
But here’s what makes Frassati different from the typical “suffering saint” narrative: He also understood that growth happens through joy, through friendship, through living fully in the world. He wasn’t grim or self-punishing. He was radiant. He was alive. He showed that you don’t have to choose between spiritual depth and human connection, between faith and friendship, between holiness and happiness.
He died young—at 24—from typhoid fever. But in those 24 years, he lived more fully, grew more deeply, and impacted more people than most people do in a lifetime. He showed that growth isn’t about the length of your life; it’s about the depth of your commitment.
The growth mindset recognizes this. It says: “I’m growing, but my growth looks different in different seasons. Sometimes it’s about intensity, sometimes it’s about joy. Sometimes it’s about solitude, sometimes it’s about community. And that’s okay. That’s actually how it’s supposed to be.”
The Challenge
So here’s what I’m asking you:
1. Identify One Fixed Belief
Write down one area where you’ve accepted a limitation as permanent. “I’m not creative.” “I’m not good with people.” “I’m not disciplined.” “I’m not smart enough.” “I’m not the kind of person who can change.” Whatever it is, write it down.
2. Reframe It as a Challenge
Now rewrite it as something you’re developing, not something you lack. “I haven’t developed my creativity yet.” “I’m learning to connect with people.” “I’m building my discipline.” “I’m developing my intelligence through learning.” “I’m becoming the kind of person who changes.”
This isn’t positive thinking nonsense. This is the truth. You’re not finished. You’re not broken. You’re in progress.
3. Take One Action
Do something that scares you a little. Read a book on the subject. Take a class. Practice for 30 minutes. Fail at it. Learn from it. Do it again.
Don’t do something massive. Do something small. Consistency beats intensity every time.
4. Adapt Your Method
If the first method doesn’t work, try a different one. Don’t quit. Don’t assume you’re incapable. Assume you just haven’t found the right approach yet.
Remember: The goal is the same. The method can change.
Final Takeaways
You are not finished. You are not fixed. You are not limited by your past, your present circumstances, or your current abilities.
You are limitless—but only if you believe it and act on it.
The growth mindset isn’t about positive thinking. It’s about positive action backed by the unshakeable belief that you can evolve, improve, and become more than you are today.
St. Peter lived this truth. He went from an impulsive fisherman to the rock upon which the church was built. Not because he was naturally perfect. But because he refused to accept his limitations as permanent. Because he believed he could grow. Because he kept trying, kept learning, kept adapting.
Peter said: “Like newborn infants, long for the pure, spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow into salvation.” (1 Peter 2:2)
That’s a growth mindset. That’s a resurrection mindset. That’s the mindset of someone who refuses to accept limitations.
Jesus said to Peter: “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church.” (Matthew 16:18)
He didn’t say, “You will become a rock once you get your act together.” He said it right then—when Peter was still impulsive, still making mistakes, still very much a work in progress. Jesus saw the growth before it happened. Jesus believed in Peter’s potential before Peter believed in it himself.
Now it’s time for you to do the same. It’s time for you to believe in your own potential. It’s time for you to see the growth before it happens. It’s time for you to become who you’re meant to be.
So here’s my question for you: Are you willing to grow?
Because if you are, there’s nothing you can’t achieve. Not because you’re naturally talented. Not because life is easy. But because you’ve decided that your limitations are temporary, your challenges are opportunities, and your effort is never wasted.
That’s the power of a growth mindset.
Now, go grow. And may God bless you.
ACTION ITEMS
5 Things You Can Start Doing Now
1. Reframe One Fixed Belief into a Growth Challenge. Identify one limiting belief (“I’m not a leader,” “I’m not disciplined,” “I’m not creative”). Reframe it: “I haven’t developed leadership skills yet.” Post it visibly. For 30 days, take one small action weekly toward this skill. Track progress. Prove to yourself that limitations are temporary.
2. Find a Growth Accountability Partner. Pair with another CORAC member committed to breaking through a fixed belief. Meet weekly to share: What action did you take? What did you fail at and learn? How are you reframing setbacks? This partnership becomes the infrastructure for consistent growth.
3. Identify Your Current Season and Adjust. Reflect: Are you in a season of intensity (building) or contemplation (deepening)? Solitude or community? Learning or leading? Align your growth efforts to what this season actually requires. This prevents burnout and honors the reality that growth looks different in different seasons.
4. Start a CORAC Growth Experiment Group. Gather 3-4 members to develop one specific skill (public speaking, spiritual leadership, practical skills, etc.). Meet monthly to: learn together, practice together, fail together, encourage each other. This normalizes that expertise comes through thousands of attempts, not natural talent.
5. Commit to a 12-Month “Becoming” Project. Identify one significant area where God is calling you to grow into something different. Create a plan with: Vision (who you’re becoming), Work (specific actions required), Failure Integration (how you’ll learn), Community (who believes in you), Milestones (quarterly check-ins). Share this with CORAC. Let them witness your growth journey.



































































































































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