For twenty-five years, while I was building a career as a pharmaceutical executive and management consultant, I was also teaching Sunday school to teenagers. Most people in my professional world didn't know this. It wasn't on my resume. It wasn't a credential that opened boardroom doors. And for a long time, I kept the two worlds relatively separate. Not because I was ashamed of either, but because I hadn't yet understood how much they were teaching each other. Then I realize

David's most powerful weapon in the valley of Elah was not his sling. It was his voice. For forty days, an entire army had been paralyzed by the story fear was telling them. David walked onto the same battlefield and introduced a different one. Who is this uncircumcised Philistine that he should defy the armies of the living God? One question reframed the whole situation. The army's options didn't change. The story they were telling themselves about those options did. I've s

Not the literal answer. The other one. The leadership persona you put on before you walk into the room. The management style. The tone. The version of yourself you've decided is "professional." Before David faced Goliath, King Saul offered him his royal armor. The tunic. The coat of mail. The bronze helmet. The sword. The full equipment of the most powerful military leader in Israel. David put it on, took a few steps, and took it off. I cannot go in these, he told Saul. I am