Lately, I’ve watched some people walk away from Forged. Some haven’t been coming. Some need somewhere closer to home. Some are dealing with finances. Others want something different from their training. I understand those things. I also know how easily something we say matters can slide down the priority list until we stop showing up altogether. I’ve done it myself.
But understanding why people leave doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. When you teach someone, invest in them, and start to picture them as part of this community for years to come, you get attached. You care about who they’re becoming. You want to see what happens if they keep going. Then they leave, and you’re standing there wondering whether you could have done more. I’ve had some of those moments lately.
And yes, I think about the business. Forged has bills. My family has needs. I want this place to grow, and I’m not going to pretend that losing students has no effect on me. But underneath that concern, I’m finding something steady: faith that the Lord has a purpose for me and for Forged, even when I can’t see how all the pieces fit.
Recently, a parent told me their family was going to try another school. The drive was a factor, and they were looking at their options. That was hard to hear. I’d invested a lot of time in their child. I cared about his progress, and I wanted to keep helping him.
Later, I asked another parent how things were going for her kids. She’s quiet, so I asked a little more. Were they getting what they needed? Did I need to change anything? Should we be doing more with competition? She told me they had tried another school where competition seemed to be a bigger focus. What she wanted for her kids was tradition, structure, and help becoming good people.
Then she told me about the difference she was seeing in her son’s attitude at home. They still have their standoffs. He’s still a kid. But she felt that Forged was exactly where he needed to be. I needed to hear that. In the middle of questioning what I might need to change, someone reminded me why I built this place.
I’m a bit strict with the kids. I know that. I expect them to listen, treat their partners well, and give an honest effort. I care about how they respond when something is difficult. I care about their attitude when they don’t get their way. A child can struggle with a technique and still have a great class. They can get caught during a round and still make progress. Learning to stay calm, accept correction, and try again matters.
I want to teach good jiu jitsu. I take that responsibility seriously, and I have my own work to do to keep improving as an instructor. But I don’t need a room full of champions to feel that we’re succeeding. I want focused, committed, happy students. Kids who carry respect home with them. Adults who follow through on the promises they make to themselves. People who become dependable training partners and stronger members of their families.
That takes some grit. Some discipline. Some thicker skin. It takes being willing to hear that you need to improve without deciding you’ve been attacked. It takes showing up on the days when staying home would be easier. Those are things I expect from myself, too.
I also recently lost a student I felt a strong connection with. I liked having him here. I saw a future with him as part of this school, but he wanted something different for his training. I was hurt. More than I wanted to admit. Part of that was personal. Part of it was knowing that building a deeper room takes people willing to stay and help build it. You start seeing what someone could contribute here, and it’s hard to let go of that picture.
But my investment in someone doesn’t obligate them to stay. I can care about them, be disappointed, and still wish them well. I can also take an honest look at my teaching without letting every departure redefine the direction of Forged. That’s something I’m learning.
I don’t hear God’s voice very clearly. I still send my prayers up, though. I ask why things are happening. I ask what I’m supposed to learn. I ask for guidance. Recently, the answer I needed came in my wife’s voice: “These are not the people meant for you. What God has given, nobody can take or duplicate.”
Then she reminded me to ask God for people who value what we’re offering. People who want to find a Forged community. That stayed with me. I don’t take it to mean that someone who leaves is a bad person, or that I have everything figured out. I take it as a reminder that I cannot build this place around trying to keep everyone happy.
I have to be faithful with what’s in front of me. Teach well. Keep learning. Hold people accountable. Care enough to check on them. Set expectations and live up to them myself. Then trust God with the parts I cannot control.
Forged is for people who want to grow and are willing to participate in that growth. Parents who want their kids to learn effort, respect, and discipline. Adults who are tired of letting every other demand erase the time they said they would make for themselves. People who want training partners who notice when they’re missing.
You don’t have to arrive tough, fit, or confident. You do need to be willing to learn, accept some correction, and keep coming back. That’s where accountability through relationships begins. Over time, the people beside you become another reason to show up.
I believe the Lord has more in store for Forged. My job is to keep doing the work with the people He puts in front of me.
If that sounds like the kind of place you’ve been looking for, come take a class. Bring your kids. Come train yourself. Meet the people here and see whether this community is a fit for you. Your first class is free.
Forged Jiu Jitsu
773 N 20th St, Ozark, MO
Text 417-505-3011 to get started.
Discipline. Strength. Community.
