Sven Johansson was the kind of employer people loved to work for. He was fair, kind, and deeply committed to his company’s success. He had built the business from the ground up, starting with a dream and a small office in his garage. Years of long hours and sacrifice had turned that humble beginning into a thriving enterprise. Now Sven was searching for a new manager—not just someone qualified, but someone “all in.” He wanted a leader who would treat the company as their own, share his vision, and stay for the long haul.
One Monday morning, while reviewing resumes, one application caught his attention. The experience was impressive, but it was the cover letter that stood out. The candidate wrote about wanting more than a paycheck. They wanted to invest somewhere meaningful, to contribute to something bigger than themselves. “That’s the kind of person I’m looking for,” Sven thought as he set up an interview. But as he reread the words, an unexpected question surfaced: Would I hire myself if the roles were reversed? The thought unsettled him. He brushed it aside at first, but it lingered.
That night, sitting alone in his study, the question returned. By every outward measure, Sven was successful. His employees respected him. Clients trusted him. The company was growing. Yet in the quiet, a verse from his recent devotional came to mind: James 4:8 says, “Purify your hearts, you double-minded.” The words struck him. Double-minded. Divided. Sven realized he had been completely devoted to his business. His time, energy, and even his identity were wrapped up in its success. But could he honestly say the same about God? Yes, he attended church. Yes, he gave. Yes, he prayed—when he could. But if he were honest, his relationship with God often felt secondary, squeezed into leftover time.
He leaned back and whispered, “Am I double-minded?” Deep down, he knew the answer. He had been serving two masters, and most days his business came first. The next morning the conviction remained. He found himself asking questions he had avoided for years: What truly matters most? Where does my loyalty lie? Jesus’ words echoed in his heart: Matthew 6:24 says, “No one can serve two masters.” Sven saw it clearly. He had pursued excellence in business while neglecting the deeper call of God’s kingdom. He had built something impressive, but parts of his soul had gone unattended.
He thought again about the applicant’s words—“something bigger than themselves.” At first, he assumed they meant the company. Now he sensed God was asking him the same thing. “Sven, are you all in for My kingdom?” That evening he knelt beside his bed. It had been years since he had prayed with that kind of surrender. “Lord, I’ve given You part of my life, but not all of it. I don’t want to be divided anymore. I want You to be first.”
Something shifted. The next morning, Sven approached work differently. The business was no longer his identity—it was a tool. A stewardship. A platform to reflect Christ. He set aside consistent time for Scripture and prayer, not as a task but as a priority. He began leading his employees not merely toward profit, but toward encouragement and integrity. Excellence still mattered, but it no longer ruled him.
A few weeks later, he hired the candidate whose letter had stirred his heart. They proved to be an excellent manager. But the greater transformation had already taken place. For years, Sven had searched for someone fully committed to his company. All the while, God had been seeking the same thing from him—an undivided heart. He learned that purifying the heart is not simply about removing sin; it is about reordering priorities and choosing who truly sits on the throne.
And in surrendering fully, Sven discovered deeper peace and purpose than success alone could ever give. The truth became personal to him: 2 Corinthians 5:15 (NIV) says, “And He died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for Him who died for them and was raised again.” Being “all in” was never meant for a company. It was always meant for God.
