The last months I spent traveling from Ireland to Kazakhstan, a.o. launching the Alpha Youth Series 3.0 across continents. Dublin. Almaty. Seoul. Australia. Dubai. Poland. Germany. Austria. Switzerland. Romania. London.
Somewhere over the Indian Ocean—or maybe Central Asia, they started blurring together—I realized something: I was moving constantly but what did I start with building?
Then in a hotel room in Zurich (or Vienna or was it at home?), I read about Abraham. 137 years old. Just lost his wife. God's promises still unfulfilled. And what did he do? He didn't wait for another burning bush moment. He rose from grief and acted.
That one decision changed everything about how I see "building the future."When you're caught in the whirlwind of urgent tasks, how do you know if you're building something that matters—or just surviving the calendar? Here my thoughts about this collision between motion and meaning.
