"For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many." - Mark 10:45

Everything changed on June 3, 2011.

Until that morning, I had little interest in God, religion, church, or faith. I was self‑directed and self‑referential. I trusted my own ambition, discipline, and success to give my life meaning. In practice, I had positioned myself as both god and congregation, organizing my life around achievement, admiration, and control.

That morning, I was sitting alone at a Starbucks in Winter Park, Florida, reading a small Christian booklet that a man from my gym had given me months earlier. I had carried it around without much thought, until something compelled me to open it.

As I read, the words refused to stay abstract. Page by page, they confronted the story I had been telling myself about power, worth, and success. What I had pursued as freedom began to look more like captivity. What I had called strength began to look fragile.

By the end of the booklet, I made a decision that reordered my life. I gave my life to Christ.

That moment did not erase my past or instantly

resolve the patterns I had built. But it did introduce a new center of gravity. For the first time, my life was no longer oriented around being served, admired, or protected. It was oriented around surrender and service.

From that day forward, a new question began to shape my choices: What does it mean to give myself away in love?

The ambition that once fueled self‑promotion began, slowly and imperfectly, to be redirected toward service. My growing conviction was simple and demanding: real life is not found in proving my worth, but in laying it down in the service of others.

This marked the beginning of a long, unfinished journey of learning how to die to myself and live for the sake of others—especially those who are overlooked, oppressed, or carrying burdens they did not choose.

I did not yet know where that path would lead. But I knew, with clarity I had never known before, that I could no longer live for myself alone.