When I started, I was full of ideas, strategies, and plans. But throughout this process, God taught me something deeper: true strategy begins with the soul.

We live in a world that’s always rushing. Everything is measured in KPIs, performance, and productivity. But there’s a question that is always on the first page of my work journal:

“What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul?” (Mark 8:36)

This verse disarmed me. Because, honestly, it’s easy to confuse progress with purpose. It’s easy to define yourself by what you create, how much you earn, or how many people applaud you. But at the center of our calling is not success, but Jesus. He didn’t call us just to be efficient, but alive—full of love, courage, and character.

In business, temptations are subtle. A license not acquired, a small lie, an “unimportant” compromise. But I have chosen transparency. Even when it costs. Because ethics aren’t a detail—they’re a testimony. And I want every line of code, every decision, every invoice issued to say something about Christ. Not perfectly, but sincerely.

In everything I do, I try to see beyond tasks and deadlines—to see souls. Every colleague, every partner, every client has a heart. And sometimes the greatest blessing isn’t a signed contract, but a real conversation. A simple question: “How is your heart?” Sometimes, that’s all God needs to start something new in the other person.

Then, I learned that true leadership doesn’t mean rising above people, but staying close to them. Being present, warm, attentive. A message of encouragement, a sincere compliment, a smile—these can change someone’s day. This isn’t strategy. It’s Christ living through us.

And there’s something else: discernment. When you’re full of ideas, it’s easy to act “from momentum” and not “from calling.” But I’ve learned to ask myself: “Does this bring me closer to God? Does it help others, or just glorify me?” Not all good projects are divine callings. Only those rooted in prayer and obedience bear fruit that matters in eternity.

And finally, I discovered the power of rest. In a world that glorifies exhaustion, Jesus showed us another way. He withdrew, slept through the storm, fasted. Rest is not weakness—it’s trust. It’s the declaration that God is in control, not me.

This is an invitation to a life lived with an awakened soul. A life in which Jesus is at the center of every decision, every dream, every pause.

I don’t know what plans each of you has going forward. But I do know this: regardless of your industry, numbers, or titles, what matters in the end is whether we stayed close to the One who gave us life.