The Cost of Conviction
When You Dare to Believe for More
It didn’t take long for Gunnar’s quiet decision to ripple into a storm.
He hadn’t planned on becoming a lightning rod. He simply started talking about the idea that business wasn’t just a machine for profit—it could be a stage for God’s Presence. A place where integrity mattered more than margins. Where faith wasn’t reserved for Sundays, but lived out on payroll, contracts, and product lines.
And suddenly, the air changed.
Some colleagues nodded politely, then never returned his calls. Others mocked him outright—called him naïve, out of touch, even dangerous. Investors pulled back. A few employees wondered aloud if this new conviction meant the company was going off the rails.
Resistance has a way of exposing the truth:
Conviction costs something.
If you’ve ever felt the sting of stepping out—if you’ve dared to say, I believe God has more for this work—you know the loneliness that follows.
We’d rather believe the myth that faith will make everything easier.
That clarity will always breed favor.
But often, clarity breeds opposition.
And sometimes, conviction looks suspiciously like foolishness to those still content with the status quo.
I think about Gunnar in those months.
How he must have replayed the doubts late at night.
How the question “Is this it?” evolved into “Have I made a terrible mistake?”
This is the hidden chapter no one tells you about when you decide to live with integrity:
There will be a cost.
There will be a thinning of the crowd.
There will be moments you wonder if you should have just kept your head down and your mouth shut.
But here’s what history shows us—and what faith reminds us:
Resistance isn’t a sign you’ve lost your way.
It’s often proof you’ve finally found it.
When you choose purpose over applause, you will draw fire.
When you name the emptiness, you will unsettle those who prefer the illusion.
When you live as though God is real and present and interested in your spreadsheets, you will offend those who think faith belongs in a box.
This is how movements begin—not with unanimous approval, but with a few souls willing to bear the weight of misunderstanding.
If you are facing your own resistance right now—if you feel the edges of your convictions being tested—take heart.
You are not alone.
You are in good company.
The pioneers always are.
This is how remembering becomes resistance.
Not by shouting louder, but by standing firm.
Not by appeasing everyone, but by living with the quiet conviction that God’s Presence is worth more than your reputation.
Next time, we’ll look at what happens when conviction collides with desperation—the moment when faith has to move from theory to survival.
Until then, hold your ground.
Let the opposition refine you.
And remember: what feels like loss may be the first step toward the only kind of success that matters.
By the way, this is a creative retelling and application of a small portion of Gunnar Olson’s story. To purchase a copy of his book, Business Unlimited, contact office@uk.iccc.net or listen to it as an audiobook.
Phew, that is deep, but encouraging.
May all who choose to walk this path be encouraged to keep faith until they see breakthrough.
May the path they bravely choose, light the path fir other kindred spirits