Bourbon makers know something we sometimes forget: the same spirit ages differently depending on where it sits. Every barrel starts with the same mash bill, the same new oak, the same distillery. But once they go into the rickhouse, the placement changes everything.

Top floors get the heat — the pressure, the intensity — and the bourbon ages fast. Bold. Spicy. Sometimes unpredictable.

Bottom floors stay cool and steady. The change is slow. The bourbon is gentler. Softer edges. More time to breathe.

Same beginning. Different levels. Entirely different flavor.

I’ve had my own rickhouse levels.

I started college at Stetson thinking I knew who I was and what I’d be. Then I failed out. That was a top-floor season — all heat, all pressure, no control. That led to three hard years in the Air Force, still not sure where I belonged.

Then UNF. A restart. Cooler air. A chance to mature differently.

I thought I’d be a journalist forever — one year at a newspaper in Harlingen proved otherwise. Then came nonprofit magazines. Then being downsized. Then seven years as a church administrator. Then a divorce I didn’t see coming. Then the surprise of a second marriage I am profoundly grateful for. Then teaching — a career I never planned, but now can’t imagine not doing.

Along the way I lost three parents. Along the way I gained a daughter. And now a grandson. So many faces on the walkway of my life — some gone, some still here, all part of who I’ve become.

My life looks nothing like the one I imagined at 18. But the barrel I’ve become? I like the way it tastes.

Not because I picked the level — I didn’t.

But because, as Paul said, “We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him” (Romans 8:28).

Because sometimes the heat was the only thing that could change me.

Sometimes the quiet cool was the only thing that could rest me.

Sometimes both were grace.

James reminds us, “Let perseverance finish its work, so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” (James 1:4). The rickhouse isn’t random. The aging has purpose. The changes mean something.

And Ecclesiastes whispers it in the background: “He has made everything beautiful in its time.” (Ecclesiastes 3:11)

Not instantly. Not painlessly.
But beautifully.

We don’t get to choose our level.
But we do get to choose our response.

May whatever floor you’re on today — heat or cool, fast or slow — bring out the kind of depth no quick life ever could.

🛢️ Same spirit. Different levels. One Master Distiller.
And He doesn’t waste a single season.

Copyright © 2025 Doug DeBolt.