What Is Your Family’s Enough?

I spend a lot of time with entrepreneurs who are, by most measures, winning.

Revenue is climbing. Opportunities are multiplying. The calendar is full. They are doing the thing so many people only dream about.

But every so often I find myself sitting across from someone and thinking, quietly,
This is killing you.

On paper they are crushing it. In real life, you start to notice the cracks.

A marriage that is more like a business partnership than a covenant.
Kids who are basically growing up without dad.
A body running on caffeine, takeout, and four hours of sleep.
No meaningful friendships. No real connection to a local church.
Very little joy. Just the next target.

And underneath it all there is a single, familiar lie:

“Just a bit more.”

Just a bit more revenue.
Just a bit more margin.
Just one more launch, one more year of grind, and then I will slow down.

The problem is that “a bit more” never stops. It just keeps quietly raising the bar.

The verse we love but rarely obey

There is a short line in Scripture that cuts right through this:

But godliness with contentment is great gain, for we brought nothing into the world, and[a] we cannot take anything out of the world. But if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content.

1 Timothy 6:6-8

Not godliness with achievement.
Not godliness with scale.
Not godliness with a certain revenue target.

Godliness with contentment.

Most of us nod along to that verse. We agree with it in theory. If you are a Christian entrepreneur, you probably believe it is true.

But functionally, many of us are living like the real equation is:

Godliness + hustle + aggressive scaling = great gain.

We baptize our ambition with a little spiritual language and assume God is thrilled, because we are “stewarding our gifts” and “maximizing our impact.”

Meanwhile, our actual life - the one our spouse and kids experience - tells a very different story.

The moment that shook me

Not long ago, I was in a coaching conversation with a business owner I genuinely like and respect. He is smart, driven, creative. The kind of guy you would bet on.

As he talked, though, I could see it:

His schedule was out of control.
His marriage was strained.
His kids were getting the leftovers.
His health was paying the price.

He was building something impressive. But it was hollow. There was almost no space left for the relationships and responsibilities that actually matter most.

And sitting there, listening to him, I had this sobering realization:

If I am not careful, I could become him.

Not because I want to neglect my family or burn out my body. Nobody sets that as a goal. But because the pull of “just a bit more” is incredibly strong, especially when you are wired to build and achieve.

That conversation forced me to come back to a simple, uncomfortable question:

What is our enough?

If “godliness with contentment is great gain,” then at some point you and I have to wrestle with this:

What is my family’s enough?

Not in theory. Not in some vague spiritual sense.

Practically.

What is enough income for our household to live simply and generously?
How many hours a week can I realistically work and still be present as a spouse and parent?
How much travel is enough before it starts to chip away at the relationships I say are most important?
What level of business growth is healthy, and what level starts to crowd out obedience in other areas?

Most entrepreneurs never answer those questions. They just keep raising the ceiling.

Even studies on happiness and income point to this reality: once basic needs and a few meaningful comforts are met, the return on “more” drops off fast. You might feel a temporary bump, but it does not solve the deeper hunger.

If we do not decide our enough on purpose, the market will gladly decide “never enough” for us.

A simple practice for this week

Let me offer you a small but serious experiment.

Some time this week:

Get quiet before the Lord.
No laptop. No notifications. Just you, a Bible, and a notebook.
Pray a simple, honest prayer.
Something like:
“Lord, you say that godliness with contentment is great gain. Show us what ‘enough’ looks like for our family. Help me see where I have believed the lie of ‘just a bit more.’”
Write down what comes to mind.
Do not edit it yet. Capture specific thoughts about:
- Income
- Work hours
- Travel
- Commitments you need to release
- Rhythms you need to protect at home and in your church
Talk it through with someone who knows you.
Ideally your spouse. If you are not married, a trusted friend who loves you enough to tell you the truth.
Ask each other:
- “If we really believed this was our enough, what would need to change?”
- “Where are we already over the line?”
- “What is one step we could take in the next 30 days to move toward this?”

You do not have to solve everything in one conversation. In fact, you will not. But naming your enough and bringing it into the light is a powerful first step.

The kind of gain that actually lasts

I am not anti-growth. I love building things. I think excellence matters. Profit matters. Stewardship matters.

But if your growth comes at the expense of your marriage, your kids, your health, or your walk with God, that is not wise stewardship. That is just disobedience with a nice business case around it.

At the end of your life, it will not be your revenue chart that matters most. It will be the people God entrusted to you and the way you loved and served them.

So before you chase “just a bit more” this week, stop and ask:

What is our enough?

You might discover that the real gain you have been chasing was never in the extra revenue in the first place.

To thriving,

Zach