grace given me

This past week was our company’s annual sales meeting. People from around the country converged in one place to share insights, research, and industry knowledge, revisit our core values, and cast vision for the year ahead. It’s always a meaningful time—full of learning, collaboration, and connection. 

Our company has historically been sales-driven, while I lead the marketing team. And if I’m being honest, for years I carried a quiet, unexamined belief that marketing was more important. More strategic. More intellectual. In my earlier identity—one marked by shaky unworthiness masked as confidence—I didn’t just prefer marketing. I never quite gave sales its due.

Marketing, in my mind, required an academic mindset. Sales, is often assumed, for people with charisma, thick skin, and the gift of gab. Whether consciously or not, I had associated sales with stereotypes of sweet-talking deal closers. I kept my distance, often making sure people knew I was in marketing.

Then, I read a book that disrupted me in the best way: Business Secrets from the Bible by Rabbi Daniel and Susan Lapin. I was stung by my own naïveté and closed-mindedness. The book is packed with insight, but what struck me most was the courage and optimism required to be in sales. The emotional resilience. The skill of engagement and connection. And the simple, undeniable truth: nothing happens until somebody, somewhere, sells something. Sales makes the intangible tangible.

Marketing can, at times, hide behind distance—behind data, messaging, campaigns, and strategy. Sales doesn’t get that luxury. In sales, you go all in. You put yourself on the line. You risk rejection. You risk misunderstanding. You risk failure. You must believe in what you’re offering.

As I sat among my sales peers this week, I found myself examining my faith through a sales vs. marketing lens. An honest assessment tells me I still live in the “academic” zone more often than I’d like. I read. I study. I pray. I praise. In quiet moments with God, I am all in. Among faith friends or within the safety of church walls—where belief is shared and reinforced—I’m all in. But when I step outside of those environments, when I try to carry hope and love into everyday spaces, I feel like Bambi on newborn legs. Wobbly. Uncertain.

At heart, I am a performance perfectionist. Afraid to say the wrong thing. Afraid to misrepresent God. Afraid to fail publicly. Afraid to risk. And yet scripture reminds us, “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and self-control” (2 Timothy 1:7).

Salespeople don’t wait until confidence is perfect. They move forward despite fear. They understand that belief grows through action, not avoidance. Jesus himself modeled this sold-out posture. “For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19:10). He stepped into broken spaces. He risked rejection. He spoke truth knowing it would cost him everything. “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23).

Being sold out doesn’t mean having flawless execution. It means having unwavering commitment.

For everything Jesus has done for me, I want to be sold out.

For the people I love, I want to be sold out.

For the people I have yet to meet, I want to be sold out.

For the plan God has for me, I want to be sold out.

I want to be fearless. Not because I won’t make mistakes, but because I’ll keep moving forward anyway. Because obedience matters more than polish. Because faith is not proven in comfort, but in action. I keep returning to a lyric from the song At the Altar that captures my heart perfectly: “I am running, stumbling I know but I’m coming… to give You this offering.” Not perfect. Not performative. Just surrendered. Fully, freely, faithfully—sold out.

Lord, you are the greatest example of being sold out, for us. You sent your one and only beloved son for us. It’s amazing to think of the risk you took with your rescue mission. Help us to risk, to sacrifice, to trust. Help us to step out of our comfort zones and be sold out. Sold out to speak life everywhere we go. Sold out to lay down our pride. Sold out to lay down our fear. Sold out to the identity you want to give us and the mission you want to send us on. I’m coming, stumbling, but I’m coming. Amen.