The Cost of Becoming

When obedience doesn't pay...yet.

Good Sunday to you, wherever you are.

Over a casual morning chat at BestWork HQ today, we were talking about the opportunity we all have to archive our thoughts here on Substack. While it’s never fun to think about the end of our lives, there’s something freeing about imagining that every time I write something here, I’m leaving something - A trace of where my thoughts landed on a subject. A final paragraph, maybe, for someone I’ll never meet.

It deepens my conviction to tell the truth - so help me God (for real).

This week, I came back from what I’ll call a “vacation” spent with family in Alabama and Florida, and I returned with a fresh commitment to get back to writing. I hadn’t picked up the pen (keyboard) since last year, when I was deep in revelations about rest during my second brush with burnout. That topic changed my life. Until it became a cage. So we’re back at it. Rested. And ready to talk about what I’m learning on this journey of becoming our best work.

My co-founder Maya and I often talk about the “cold start problem” and how hard it can be to build momentum when you’re starting something new. Our anecdote? Start with a question. It doesn’t have to be deep or profound. Just honest enough to trigger your inner dialogue. Something like: So, what happened this week?

One consistent theme emerged from time with family to an afternoon catch up with my best friend.

We’re both in the messy middle. The vision is clear. The conviction is strong.

But the reward? The external evidence that obedience is “working”? It hasn’t shown up yet.

So here we both are. Sometimes fumbling through our words when someone asks,

“What are you up to now?”
“Are you still in entertainment?”

(You’d be surprised how far one throwback photo from a Tyler Perry movie press tour can travel in a Black family group chat.)

But beneath the small talk is a deeper tension - a spiritual one.

It’s the pull to do work that’s aligned with who you’re becoming…
and the persistent temptation to walk away from it and go find a job.
Not just any job - but the kind that quiets the questions, pays the bills, and restores your LinkedIn clout.

Now, to be clear: I know having a job is a privilege in these uncertain times. I’m not speaking against that. I’m speaking to the shame that shows up when you have the audacity to pursue calling over career and nothing’s “clicked” yet.

It’s the quiet fear of becoming one of those people posting on LinkedIn:
“Month 5 of job searching. Open to referrals. Anything helps.”
Or hearing echoes of your parents saying: “If you don’t have a job. You need to make finding a job your full-time job.”

That tension led me back to one of my favorite declarations from Jesus:

“You can’t serve God and money.”

And that’s where this begins.

That line used to confuse me. Now, it just exposes the real choice we’re all making everyday. About whether to leave a job or stay. Whether to stick with a business idea or abandon it. Whether to protest or stay at home. Whether to strike or return to work.

It comes from a section in the Bible where Jesus is giving one of his most popular addresses to a crowd. He’s speaking not to the wealthy elite but to his followers - ordinary people. Some entrepreneurs (fisherman), some government employees (tax collectors), some day laborers, farmers, some sick and unemployed. Regular people just trying to survive. People like us.

Because let’s be honest: most of us are trying to follow Jesus in some way, treating our neighbors as ourselves, looking out for the common wellbeing of others - but also trying to be practical and protect our own sense of safety and security.

When confronted with the question of following God vs money it often means us asking:

• How do I follow God and not go broke?

• Will obedience to God cost me the stability I worked so hard to build?

That’s where the tension shows up. And it’s subtle. Because we don’t ever say, “I’m choosing money over God.” We say, “Now’s not the right time.” Or, “I just need a little more clarity…a little more information”

But the indecision is revealing something deeper. And as a friend recently reminded me: the goal isn’t to judge indecision, but to get curious about it.

The Same Choice, Over and Over Again

When I trace my own journey, I can see the same decision repeating at every turn:
God and my gut said one thing. Money promised another.

• High school: pursue the arts (God) vs. attend a science and tech school for better career prospects (money)

• College: major in Public Relations (God) vs. stay in the business program for something more stable and broad (money)

• Post-grad: intern for free in fashion PR (God) vs. take a government job through a family connection (money)

• Early career: move to LA to be closer to the entertainment industry (God) vs. stay in a job in New York I didn’t enjoy because I had finally landed a role (money)

• Mid-career: leave a successful entertainment PR role to build a coaching practice (God) vs. stay in a role that had success and visibility but drained me (money)

• Recently: walk away from a high profile, high paying job that muted my voice (God) vs. stay for the paycheck and stay silent (money)

• Now: relentlessly pursue the vision that I have been given as an entrepreneur (God) vs. return to looking for the stability of a full time income (money)

And in every moment, the same question crept in: “What if serving God is going to cost me money?”

We Don’t Doubt God… Until it costs us something.

I returned to Jesus’ statement about serving God vs money and I realized that this is when when our faith gets foggy. It’s when practicality starts sounding like a moral compass. It’s when we start wondering: Is it God really speaking to me? God wouldn’t want me to struggle, right?

But here’s the truth: some decisions don’t give you room to play it safe. Some seasons of your life will require a full surrender - not just in spirit, but in your budget.

It’s a gift really - the opportunity to see what you trust in the most. It’s easy to say I trust God when it doesn’t cost you anything. And the stakes aren’t always about income. Sometimes it’s your image, or your convenience, or what people will think of you when you break away from a path that’s familiar to them or that makes them comfortable.

The Battle Is So Much Bigger Than You

This isn’t just a personal battle. It’s a cultural one. A Global one.

Look at the strikes in Philadelphia where union workers risked their jobs to get higher pay. What about the companies who choose to do layoffs while their CEOs get bonuses in the millions. What about people who choose to skip work so that they can protest unfair deportations.

All around us, people are being asked to make a decision:

Protect their livelihood, or protect their values. Stay in systems that reward silence, or speak up and risk loss. Compromise to keep a seat, or walk away and trust God will build a table.

These aren’t just career moves. These are spiritual battlegrounds. And in many places, money is winning.

But not everywhere. There are people choosing God. They’re turning down dream deals because of what it would cost their soul. They’re leaving high-profile roles because they know their voice can’t thrive there. They’re building in obscurity, waiting for fruit, and refusing to give up.

Not because they hate money. But because they trust what God is doing more.

Serving God is Not Anti-Money

Let’s be clear: God is not asking us to reject money. He’s asking us not to worship it.

When money becomes the filter for every decision, you will always hesitate to obey.
You’ll delay the launch. You’ll dilute the vision. You’ll stay longer in places you were meant to leave.

On the other hand - it’s the space where choosing God and waiting for it to pay allows you to discover that provision isn’t always a paycheck. Sometimes it’s clarity. Sometimes it’s peace. Sometimes it’s the courage to let go of what’s profitable and grab hold of what’s powerful.

A Season of Uncertainty

Let me speak to the one who’s still in the middle.

You said yes to a God vision, but the fruit hasn’t shown up yet. The account feels tight. The silence feels heavy. You’re not sure if you misheard or just need to wait a little longer.

You didn’t mishear.

You’re just in the part of the story where it costs more than it pays. Where faith looks foolish. Where the applause has faded but the instructions haven’t changed.

This is what obedience looks like. It’s not flashy. It’s not always public. But it’s holy.

You’ve just let go of a good amount of what seemed certain for a season of uncertainty. That’s all it is - a season.

The Paradox of Becoming

Here’s the truth: You can’t become the answer if you're always choosing comfort over conviction.

God’s path doesn’t always look profitable. But over time, it will produce a life that money can’t buy.

So let me ask you:

What are you doubting right now because money hasn’t shown up yet? What costs are you incurring to become the truest version of you that you’ve ever been?

I know it’s costing you something. But that’s how you know what and who you’re serving.

in this with you,

kevin