If I could whisper one piece of hard-won wisdom to my 25-year-old self, it would be this: don’t play the game.
Everything from age 15 to 25 had prepared me for it, the relentless competition of corporate America. As a Gen-Xer, this was the gospel we received: earn a degree from a reputable college, land a job at a Fortune 500 company, and climb that ladder rung by rung toward the American dream.
I made the best of it. God’s invisible hand and the Holy Spirit guided me through the journey despite my contrarian spirit. But it’s not the path I’m recommending to my children as they stand at similar crossroads. I want them to learn from my experiences, mistakes and all, so they can live with greater freedom than I discovered.
There’s a story Jesus tells that’s been echoing in my mind lately (Luke 14:7–11), where He watches guests scrambling for the best seats at a banquet:
“When someone invites you to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor… But when you are invited, take the lowest place… For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”
– Luke 14:8–11 NIV
It’s a simple image, but it cuts deep, especially if you’ve ever sat in a boardroom, eyed a promotion, or felt the suffocating pressure to prove your worth in the corporate arena.
In corporate America, the banquet is always in full swing. Tables are arranged by title, salary, and influence. Everyone’s jockeying for the top seat: Vice President, Managing Director, C-Suite. It’s not just about where you sit; it’s about being seen sitting there. Visibility becomes currency. Recognition becomes survival.
But here’s the twist that took me decades to understand: the game itself is the trap.
We elevate ourselves out of fear of being overlooked, undervalued, replaceable. Pride becomes our armor. We hustle not just to succeed, but to be seen succeeding. Yet the higher we climb, the more precarious the perch becomes. The top of the wheel is the most anxious place to be, because everyone below is trying to spin it.
Jesus’ advice isn’t just spiritual. It’s strategic. “Take the lowest place,” not because you’re lesser, but because you’re opting out of the game entirely. You’re refusing to hand your peace over to the fickle approval of others. You’re choosing substance over performance.
In my own journey, I’ve witnessed how seductive the climb can be. I’ve also experienced how hollow it feels once you reach what you thought was the summit, only to realize the view isn’t what you hoped for. The corporate game promises fulfillment but delivers exhaustion. It rewards pride but punishes authenticity.
The most profound discovery of my career? Learning to “die to self.” Not because I’m weak, but because I’m wise enough to see through the illusion.
This dying to self isn’t a single dramatic moment. It’s a daily practice. I’ve learned to move forward 1% at a time through what I call “micro-deaths,” small moments where I subordinate my will to God’s will, my plans to His plan for my life.
The refusal to die to self is the root cause of all discord with others, with ourselves, and ultimately with God. When we seek only to please our Creator rather than climbing toward earthly approval, real freedom begins to unfold.
The Foundation That Changes Everything
Through a small group Bible study based on The Discipleship Gospel by Bill Hull and Ben Sobels, I’ve discovered seven truths that anchor everything:
Four Declarative Statements:
- The Kingdom of God is here
- Jesus is the Christ
- He died for our sins
- He rose again on the third day
Three Imperative Commands:
- Repent
- Believe the Gospel
- Follow Jesus
These aren’t religious platitudes. They’re the bedrock of a life lived outside the corporate game’s endless cycle of striving and anxiety.
Your Advocate in the Journey
Here’s the beautiful paradox I’ve discovered: Jesus serves as our Advocate in what Joseph Campbell called the Hero’s Journey. We need only take His hand and accept His help. But here’s the twist that transforms everything. We can only become the hero of our own story when we’re willing to ride “shotgun” while Jesus takes the wheel.
The corporate ladder will always be there, gleaming with false promises. But the narrow path that leads to life? That’s where the real adventure begins.
What game are you ready to stop playing?
MindWolves 