Let me tell you a pattern I’ve seen over and over again. Someone works hard. Builds the business. Hits the goals they prayed for. And then… something feels off. On paper, life looks good. But internally, they’re tired. Distracted. Pulled in too many directions. They don’t regret the success.They just didn’t expect it to cost this much. I’ve lived this. And I’ve walked alongside many people here who’ve felt the same tension. Here’s what I’ve learned the hard way: More doesn’t automatically mean better. More opportunities often mean more pressure. More income can mean less margin. More growth can quietly steal presence, peace, and clarity. That’s why I believe real prosperity doesn’t come from complexity. It comes from simplicity. Not quitting. Not shrinking back, But choosing what actually matters—on purpose. Most people never stop to define what “a good life” looks like so their business defines it for them. Deadlines decide their schedule. Demand decides their availability. Urgency decides their priorities. Simplicity flips that. It asks different questions: - What do I want my days to feel like? - Who do I refuse to be absent for? - What am I protecting, no matter what? When you answer those first, everything else gets clearer. Here’s something that changed me: Complexity always extracts a hidden tax. Mental fatigue. Emotional weight. Constant noise. Simplicity creates margin. Margin creates peace. Peace creates clarity. And clarity leads to better decisions. Even Jesus lived this way. He wasn’t rushed. He wasn’t driven by demand. He walked away from crowds when necessary. Not because the work didn’t matter—but because purpose mattered more than pressure. That’s a lesson many high performers never learn. There’s nothing wrong with building wealth. But when money becomes the measurement, joy quietly slips away. Simplicity doesn’t mean doing less of what matters. It means doing less of what doesn’t. Fewer commitments. Deeper relationships.

A long time ago, I made a decision. God and my family would come before my business. That decision wasn’t easy. It felt risky. It felt irresponsible at times. It felt like I was going against everything I was being told about success. I wondered if I could really do better in business by working less. Here’s what I learned. First, we don’t just set aside time for God — we include Him in everything we do. Yes, there are moments of quiet. Solitude matters. Sitting with Him matters. But God isn’t limited to early mornings or a prayer closet. He can be in your meetings. Your decisions. Your negotiations. Your work. Second, I learned I could be present for all my kids’ activities and still run a successful business. I learned how to be efficient. How to work without distractions. How to stop wasting time. I can accomplish in 15–20 focused hours what others need 40+ hours to do. That’s not magic. It’s focus. It’s intention. It’s working hard when I work. Third, if I compromise my schedule for money, I will always be willing to compromise. That line matters. Dinner with my family every day was something my wife and I decided on before our kids were born. We’ve honored that for 23 years. Are there adjustments? Of course. But work doesn’t get that time They said most kids aren’t as lucky as they are… because their dads have to work. I corrected them. I told them I do work. And I work hard. They just don’t see me work — because I’m always there for them. That’s the gift. Not the money. Not the business. Not what’s under the tree. Presence is the gift. If you’re an entrepreneur, I want to encourage you: It is possible to love God deeply. Show up fully for your family. And run a successful business. You don’t have to choose. What boundary would you need to set to protect your family better? What belief about work might need to change?