For as long as I can remember, really going all the way back to college, I’ve been in some form of sales. And if I’m honest, there has always been this underlying tension in it for me. A quiet voice that said I was bothering people. Interrupting them. Asking for something they didn’t want to give. And when I felt dismissed, ignored, or brushed off, it only reinforced that belief.
I fought against that for years. There were moments where I caught glimpses of the truth, where I could see that what I was offering actually had value, that it could help people, that it mattered. But I never fully settled into that identity. I never fully embraced the idea that connecting with people, bringing ideas to them, and helping create solutions was not an intrusion but a form of service.
Now stepping back into this space again, connecting people with something that genuinely creates a win for everyone involved, I can feel that old friction rising up. That same internal resistance. That same question of whether I’m bothering someone. But I’m starting to see it differently.
That tension is not rejection. It is not proof that I am unwanted. It is the friction of relationship.
Anything meaningful has friction. Conversation has friction. Trust has friction. Even growth itself has friction. And maybe what I have always interpreted as something negative is actually the very place where something important is happening. It is the space where connection is formed, where understanding is built, where value is discovered.
Sebastian Junger said that people don’t mind hardship, what they mind is not feeling necessary. That hits me in a completely different way now. Because what if this role, this opportunity to connect, is actually about stepping into necessity. Not in a prideful way, but in a purposeful one. Being willing to show up in someone else’s world, not to take from them, but to offer something that could genuinely serve them.
When I read about Moses telling Joshua to be strong and courageous, that the Lord goes before him, it feels strangely connected. Because courage is not just for battlefields. It is for conversations. It is for stepping into moments where you might be misunderstood or dismissed, but showing up anyway because you believe there is something greater at work.
And then reading about John the Baptist, his mission to turn hearts, to prepare people, to bring them into something bigger than themselves. That is what stands out. He was a connector. A bridge. Someone who helped people step into a new identity and a greater story.
That idea changes everything for me.
Because being part of God’s Kingdom is not just a belief I hold, it is a role I step into. It is a shift from self-protection and self-promotion to service, love, and sacrifice. It is realizing that every interaction, every conversation, every opportunity to connect is a chance to help someone step into something better.
And maybe that is why we are wired for teams, for mission, for belonging. Because deep down we were created to be part of something bigger than ourselves. To contribute. To matter. To be necessary in the best sense of the word.
So if that is true, then even my work, even the act of reaching out, connecting, and sharing ideas, becomes something more. It becomes part of building something beyond myself. It becomes part of participating in the restoration of a world that so often defaults to selfishness and fear. The friction does not go away. But it is no longer something to avoid. It is something to lean into. Because on the other side of that friction is connection. And on the other side of connection is purpose.