The Visionary Comes First

AUGUST THEME: THE LEADER BEHIND THE VISION

Last week, I introduced a definition that took me more than ten years of business ownership to find language for:

Business Architecture is the intentional design of a business where every part works together to sustain both the vision and the visionary.

I've been sitting with those last three words.

And the visionary.

Because they may be the most important part of the entire definition.

For years, I have said:

“I believe in the vision of the visionary.”

I have built much of my life's work around helping people strengthen what they have been called to build.

But lately, I have been thinking just as deeply about the person carrying it.

The visionary.

Because there is something I understand differently now than I did ten years ago:

The visionary comes first.

Before the strategy.

Before the business model.

Before the marketing.

Before the systems.

Before we decide what should be built, we need to understand the life of the person who will have to live inside of what we're building.

And this past week reminded me why.

52

I celebrated my 52nd birthday on Saturday.

This week, Victor and I will celebrate 31 years of marriage.

Our son Christopher will celebrate his birthday that same day.

We recently celebrated Victor turning 60.

Our grandson Cameryn became a Junior Olympics champion in the 400-meter dash and an All-American in the 200.

There has been a lot to celebrate.

But some of my favorite moments haven't been the big ones.

They have happened around a table.

Making dinner.

Talking with our children.

Watching the boys swim.

Playing games.

Laughing.

Drinking coffee.

Sitting together without needing to rush somewhere else.

After Cameryn's competition, our eldest son Tim drove up with the grandchildren. We had dinner together, watched the boys swim, played games and laughed.

And I remember thinking:

I haven't felt this good in years.

That thought stayed with me.

Because I know what it feels like to have a business doing well while parts of your life quietly absorb the cost.

One of our sons recently reminded me of that.

He remembered one of our strongest financial years in business.

But what he remembered wasn't the revenue.

He remembered that he didn't see Mom as much.

He remembered us ordering food more often instead of me cooking.

And he told me how much he had missed something that had always been normal in our family:

Mom cooking with us and for us.

Then he told me how glad he was to have it back.

Whew.

There are some business lessons you learn from a spreadsheet.

There are others you learn sitting across the table from your children.

Success Has a Cost Structure Too

We talk often about the financial cost of building a business.

Advertising.

Technology.

Team.

Operations.

Education.

Infrastructure.

But there is another cost we don't calculate nearly enough.

What does the way I have built this require from my life?

Every business has a demand structure.

It requires some combination of your time, attention, presence, decision-making, energy and capacity.

And if we never intentionally design those requirements, the business will happily consume whatever we continue giving it.

That includes things we never intended to put on the table.

Our rest.

Our relationships.

Our health.

Our creativity.

Our time with God.

Our ability to think.

Our ability to simply live.

That's why I no longer believe revenue alone tells me whether a business is working.

I want to know:

What did it require from the visionary to produce it?

Because if the business is growing while the person carrying it is disappearing, something in the architecture needs attention.

I Don't Want a Business I Need to Escape From

As I slowly return from this season of sabbatical, I have been very intentional about how I reenter my work.

I'm working only a few hours at a time.

I'm not filling the calendar simply because space exists.

I'm not rushing to take on additional assignments.

I'm writing.

Thinking.

Building.

Preparing.

And breathing through the process.

In September, I'll be speaking at the Pure Raw Worship Conference in La Mirada, California.

It will be the first time I publicly teach this emerging body of work around Business Architecture as I speak about designing a business when you are an oil carrier.

And as I prepare to steward that moment, I am also stewarding the vessel carrying the message.

Me.

That matters.

I don't want to architect a business that requires me to constantly recover from operating it.

I want room to work.

Room to think.

Room to pray.

Room to create.

Room to heal.

Room to make dinner.

Room to take a walk.

Room to spend time with Victor.

Room for our children and grandchildren.

Room to sit quietly when quiet is what I need.

And room for seasons when the assignment requires more from me without having built a business that requires everything from me all the time.

That is now part of the architecture.

The Visionary Comes First

This is where Business Architecture begins to become very practical.

If someone came to me today and said:

“Angela, I want to build a consulting business.”

I wouldn't begin by designing the consulting package.

I would want to understand the visionary.

What are you carrying?

What do you actually want to build?

Who are you called and equipped to serve?

What season of life are you in?

What capacity do you have?

What responsibilities are you carrying?

How much personal access do you want your business to require?

What kind of work gives you energy?

What kind of work drains you?

How do you want your days to function?

What does financial sustainability need to look like?

What do you want this business to make possible in your life?

Because the answer may not be a consulting practice at all.

It may be advisory.

Teaching.

Speaking.

Workshops.

Intellectual property.

Training.

Publishing.

Licensing.

A combination of several paid pathways.

The point isn't to squeeze the visionary into a predetermined business model.

The point is to architect the business around the vision, the visionary and the life that business needs to support.

That's a very different starting point.

Four Dimensions Before Construction

There is a framework I've used to think through important decisions called the 4-Dimension Decision Framework.

It looks at four things:

Vision.
People.
Timing.
Sustainability.

And I've realized how deeply these four dimensions belong in Business Architecture.

Vision

What have you actually been entrusted to build?

What do you see?

What problem are you equipped to solve?

What contribution are you here to make?

Before we start choosing business models and creating things, we need clarity about the vision itself.

People

Who is this meant to serve?

Who needs to participate in carrying it?

Who will be affected by the way it is built?

That last question matters.

Your business doesn't exist in a vacuum.

Neither do you.

Timing

What season are you in?

Some things can be right for the vision and wrong for the season.

Capacity changes.

Responsibilities change.

Families change.

Health changes.

Opportunities change.

Wisdom asks more than, “Could I do this?”

It also asks:

“Is this what I should be carrying now?”

Sustainability

Can this continue?

Can it support the work financially?

Can the systems support its growth?

Can the visionary continue carrying their portion without becoming the infrastructure holding everything together?

Sustainability forces us to look beyond whether something can make money.

We ask whether the way it makes money makes sense for the life and vision we're building.

Vision. People. Timing. Sustainability.

Informed by faith.

Aligned in purpose.

Built to last.

These questions happen before construction.

Because architects don't begin by purchasing materials.

They begin by understanding what needs to be built.

Maybe “Booked and Busy” Isn't the Goal

For years, especially in faith-centered spaces, there has been a certain kind of success that photographs well.

The flights.

The stages.

The conferences.

The packed calendars.

The speaking engagements.

The constant movement.

Booked and busy.

There are seasons when travel and visibility are absolutely part of the assignment.

But movement itself isn't evidence of stewardship.

Neither is exhaustion.

I don't want my “day in the life of a CEO” to require sixteen hours of movement to prove that I'm successful.

Some days, success looks like writing something meaningful for two hours and making dinner afterward.

It looks like taking a walk.

Having coffee with my husband.

Talking with my children.

Reading.

Thinking.

Praying.

Building something that continues working after I've closed the laptop.

That isn't a lack of ambition.

That's the life I want the architecture to protect.

Your version may look completely different.

And that's precisely the point.

Architecture doesn't prescribe the life.

It supports the life the visionary has intentionally chosen to build.

Build for Who You Are Now

There is another layer to this that I think we miss.

We can spend years maintaining a business designed around a previous version of ourselves.

Previous capacity.

Previous goals.

Previous family responsibilities.

Previous interests.

Previous definitions of success.

Then wonder why something that once felt exciting now feels heavy.

I understand that personally.

Part of the work I've been doing with The Myles Factor has required me to ask:

Who am I now?

Not ten years ago.

Not when I first became a consultant.

Not when I was building everything I could see.

Now.

What do I understand now?

What do I value now?

How do I want to work now?

What do I want my business to make possible now?

Those answers have changed.

So the architecture has to change with them.

You are allowed to build for the person you have become.

In fact, eventually, you have to.

This Is Stewardship Too

Faith-rooted leaders understand stewardship.

We talk about stewarding money.

Opportunities.

Influence.

Gifts.

Calling.

But you are also something God entrusted to you.

Your capacity deserves stewardship.

Your relationships deserve stewardship.

Your body deserves stewardship.

Your time deserves stewardship.

Your attention deserves stewardship.

Your vision should have somewhere sustainable to live.

And so should you.

That is why I believe the visionary comes first.

Because we aren't simply trying to build something impressive.

We're trying to faithfully construct something the visionary can actually carry.

And eventually, something that doesn't require them to carry every piece at all.

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The Architect's Question

Last week, I asked you to consider what people could experience from your expertise without everything depending upon your constant personal presence.

This week, I want to move one layer deeper.

Ask yourself:

If I designed my business around the life I actually want to live, what would need to change about the way I am building it?

Don't begin with what everyone else is doing.

Don't begin with what looks successful online.

Begin with the visionary.

Vision.
People.
Timing.
Sustainability.

Look at the whole picture.

You may discover that your vision doesn't need you to work harder.

It needs you to design differently.

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Until Next Week

I'm still moving slowly.

Still listening.

Still architecting.

Still enjoying meals around the table.

Still preparing for what comes next.

And I'm becoming increasingly convinced that the business I'm building in this season will be stronger precisely because I'm no longer willing to disappear inside of it.

Neither should you.

The visionary comes first.

Then we architect what the vision requires.

Grace and peace,

Angela Myles
Founder, The Myles Factor

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P.S.

If you're a church, ministry, or faith-based nonprofit leader looking for practical tools, training, and resources to help strengthen your organization and become more fundable, you'll now find that work exclusively at The Fundable Church.

The Myles Factor is dedicated to helping faith-rooted leaders architect sustainable businesses.

The Fundable Church is dedicated to helping churches and nonprofits build organizations prepared to receive funding.

I'd love to serve you there, too.

Because organizations don't become fundable by accident. They become fundable by design.