Can Ambition and Faith Live Together in Silicon Valley?

Today, I began a nine-month Missional Vocation Pathway. It is a serious time commitment, but I signed up because I want to be better equipped as a faith-driven executive coach and to mentor mission-driven entrepreneurs with greater depth.

Our first conversation began with a simple question: Which statement feels most true to you?

    1    My work is not really important in God’s view.

    2    My work is the most important thing about me.

    3    My work matters deeply to God, and God matters deeply to my work.

Most people in the room chose the second answer:

My work is the most important thing about me.

That answer reveals something about Silicon Valley. In many places, people work to live. Here, work easily becomes the center of life. We introduce ourselves through our companies, titles, achievements, and ambitions.

I understand this deeply.

For 15 years, I was an entrepreneur and CEO. Building companies gave me purpose, recognition, excitement, and a strong identity. When people admire what you have built, it is easy to believe that your value comes from your output.

But when the business struggles, your energy runs low, or you no longer carry that title, it can feel like you are losing yourself.

There is a dark shadow behind Silicon Valley’s drive. Yet I do not believe ambition itself is the enemy. That same drive can build companies, solve difficult problems, create jobs, and serve people. The question is whether our ambition is rightly ordered.

Is work our god—or is work a gift from God?

When work becomes our god, we cannot put it down. Every result becomes proof of our value. Rest produces guilt. Failure becomes personal collapse. People can slowly become resources we use to reach our goals.

When work becomes a gift, we can still work hard and pursue excellence. But our identity no longer rises and falls with every result.

My biggest takeaway today came from another question: What would Jesus do if He were me, in my current situation?

Not an abstract “What would Jesus do?” What would He do as me—with my personality, my experience, my relationships, my responsibilities, and the assignment in front of me today?

That question felt very personal.

Choosing to become a coach has meant accepting a much more frugal life and less predictable income than I had before. There are months when the path feels clear, and months when I wonder how long I can continue.

I do not want to romanticize that uncertainty. Bills still need to be paid. A family still needs to be cared for. Faith does not remove practical responsibility.

But I also know that I could not continue this work without a deep passion for serving people and a strong faith that this is where I am called to be.

Coaching allows me to sit beside founders and executives in moments few people see—the fear behind confidence, the loneliness behind authority, and the cost hidden behind achievement.

Sometimes my work is helping someone think through fundraising, team conflict, or business growth. Sometimes it helps a tired leader recover enough mind capacity to make a wise decision. Sometimes it is asking a question that brings them back to who they are and why they started.

Faith and work integration does not mean preaching in every coaching conversation. It means I try to show up as one whole person.

It means listening before judging. Telling the truth with love. Treating people as human beings, not projects. Doing my best work even when nobody is watching. Knowing when to persist—and when to surrender the outcome to God.

A job is only one assignment. It is not the whole calling.

My identity as a tech CEO ended, but the years I spent building companies were not wasted. The pressure, ambition, loneliness, mistakes, and resilience have all become part of how I serve leaders today.

Perhaps this is what it means for work to matter deeply to God, and for God to matter deeply to our work.

We still build. We still strive. We still carry responsibility. But work no longer has to tell us who we are.

As I begin this nine-month journey, I am holding one question close:

If Jesus were living my life today, with exactly what has been placed in my hands, what would He do next?

Maybe that is a question worth carrying into work tomorrow.