
Summer has a funny way of changing our priorities.
The school year ends, routines loosen, and suddenly we’re spending our days chasing sunscreen, finding matching flip-flops, and wondering how we managed to go through an entire gallon of sweet tea in 48 hours.
Summer is beautiful. It’s a season of memories, family vacations, late-night conversations on the porch, and saying yes to things we don’t always have time for during the rest of the year.
But summer also presents a challenge. It can become a season of consuming rather than cultivating.
A few months ago, I was reading Nelson Nash’s Becoming Your Own Banker when I came across one of his most memorable illustrations: “Don’t Steal the Peas.”
Imagine you own a grocery store. You’ve invested your money, time, and energy into building it. You purchased the building, stocked the shelves, hired employees, and assumed all the risks that come with ownership.
One afternoon, you stop by the store to pick up a few groceries. As you walk past the shelves, you toss a can of peas into your cart. Then another item. Then another.
After all, it’s your store.
Why bother paying?
What’s the harm in taking a few groceries home?
Nash’s point was simple: the peas weren’t stolen by a stranger. They were stolen by the owner.
Every item that leaves the store without being properly accounted for reduces the profitability of the business. Inventory disappears, margins shrink, and financial statements become less accurate. Over time, the owner begins wondering why the business isn’t performing as expected.
The problem wasn’t the peas.
The problem was forgetting that ownership comes with responsibility.
As I reflected on that illustration, it struck me that summer is often the prime pea-stealing season. Not because people are walking out of grocery stores with unpaid merchandise, but because we all have a tendency to loosen our standards with the things we’ve worked hard to build.
We tell ourselves we’ll get back on track in the fall. We’ll revisit the budget after vacation. We’ll restart healthy habits when school begins. We’ll finish that project next month.
It’s only temporary.
We’ll make up for it later.
The reality is that most important things in life aren’t lost through dramatic mistakes. They erode through small decisions that seem insignificant in the moment.
A business owner stops following the systems that helped create success. An investor abandons a long-term strategy because a short-term opportunity seems more exciting. A family stops paying attention to spending because everyone is busy enjoying the season. An individual neglects habits that took years to build because “summer is different.”
None of these choices feels particularly consequential on its own.
They’re just a can of peas.
But stewardship is often determined by what we do with the small things.
One of the most valuable lessons in the Infinite Banking Concept has very little to do with policies, loans, or interest rates. At its core, it’s about learning to think like an owner.
Owners understand that every system requires discipline. They understand that today’s decisions affect tomorrow’s opportunities and that treating their own resources casually can be just as damaging as someone else mistreating them.
That’s true whether we’re talking about a family business, a savings strategy, a household budget, or the capital we’ve spent years building.
The temptation is always the same: because it’s ours, we convince ourselves the rules don’t apply.
But that’s exactly why Nash’s illustration is so powerful.
If you owned a grocery store, you wouldn’t want employees walking out the back door with inventory. Yet owners often do the very thing they would never tolerate from someone else.
This summer, I hope you’ll enjoy every bit of the season. Take the vacation. Go to the lake. Stay up too late around the campfire. Buy the ice cream.
Life is meant to be enjoyed.
But as you do, take a moment to think about the systems, habits, and resources you’ve worked hard to build. Are you strengthening them? Are you protecting them? Are you treating them with the same care and respect you would if they belonged to someone else?
Because whether we’re talking about a grocery store, a business, a family, or a banking system, the principle remains the same.
The peas aren’t usually stolen by strangers.
More often, they’re stolen by the owner.
And the best owners understand that stewardship isn’t just about building something valuable. It’s about having the discipline to protect it once you’ve built it.