It was homage to our ancestors. As we stood here recording the 2026 Black Women Sell Live commercial, all I could think was: We are making them proud. I couldn’t help but wonder… What would Madam C.J. Walker say about the 2 million+ Black women–owned businesses operating today? What would Maggie Lena Walker say about the $98.3 billion our companies generate? What would she say about the fact that we’ve more than doubled our average annual revenue since the pandemic— even while traditional banks still hesitate to believe in our visions? What would she say about our ability to love each other, collaborate, and support one another— even in a world designed to fracture us? I don’t care what anyone says. Dedicating my life’s work to helping Black women experts rise and dominate their lanes was the best pivot I’ve ever made. Our history is RICH. Our creativity is RICH. Our love is RICH. We are all that and a bag of chips. When I wrote the script for the Black Women Sell Live commercial, I knew I couldn’t do it alone. I needed actresses to portray Madam C.J. Walker, Maggie Lena Walker, Ida B. Wells, and Mary Ellen Pleasant. I needed a full production team to bring the vision to life. I needed a director who could steward the assignment with excellence. And although I’ve written small commercial scripts before, this one was different. The first draft was 25+ pages… for a 5–10 minute commercial. Too long. But every word mattered. I had to research the figures. I had to build a narrative where the past and present collided. Some of it is fiction. Much of it is historically accurate. So who carried the vision mattered. So who did I call? A Black woman–owned production company. Of course. It’s fitting that a commercial about Black women’s economic power was built by sisters—and supported by strong men who honor that power. It’s fitting that I had to release control and trust other Black women to steward the vision. It’s fitting that this required collaboration, discernment, and trust

I was sitting in the shop getting my daughter’s hair done. Laptop open. Finishing touches on our sabbatical plan. Thirty days. Again. Nigeria. Ghana. The Philippines. Bali. Dubai. Bangkok. Thailand. Family fun. Rest. God. Dreaming. This is our third one. And I’m excited. But here’s what I told my husband recently. The weeks leading up to a sabbatical? I work like a mad woman. Not because the business needs it. Not because clients demand it. But because somewhere deep down… I don’t always feel like I deserve this much time off. Corporate taught me that rest has to be earned. That joy must be justified. That abundance should be balanced with exhaustion. So even as an entrepreneur with freedom, I found myself recreating the same trap. Overworking. Overproving. Overexplaining. Just in case God changed His mind about blessing me. And that’s when it hit me. Rest isn’t a reward. It’s a responsibility. If I say I believe in freedom, but only feel safe resting after punishment-level productivity… then I’m still operating from corporate conditioning. My daughter doesn’t need a mom who “earned” joy. She needs a mom who models it. My husband doesn’t need a wife who burns herself out first. He needs a partner who trusts what we’ve built. And my clients don’t need another exhausted expert. They need proof that alignment actually works. So this sabbatical isn’t just about travel. It’s about unlearning the lie that rest requires permission. Clarity doesn’t come from grind. It comes from trust. Justin-Welsh-style punchline: You don’t earn rest. You practice it. P.S. If you want help landing rich clients using your authentic voice, go to landbigclients.com. It’s just $97 until further notice.

I used to say, “Chris and I left ministry…” but the truth is—we didn’t. It just looks different now. Chris was in seminary to be a pastor. Third-generation preacher’s kid. His dad pastors a historic apostolic church on the west side of Chicago. Me? I didn’t have that same call to the pulpit, but I was down to serve right alongside him. At 22 and 24, we were young and married—learning, growing, doing street ministry, feeding folks, running youth programs. We loved the people and the purpose. That heart to serve never left. It just evolved. When we started Speak Your Way To Cash®, we thought we were stepping away from ministry. Turns out, God was just giving us a new platform. Now, every event we host cording to @yolanda_k_churchwell feels like “business church.” People tell us they feel different after attending—and that’s because love, faith, and service are built into the DNA of everything we do. Our whole family’s involved—Chris, my mom, my brothers, my baby girl, my nieces and nephews. It’s a full-blown family mission. Ministry didn’t end. It expanded. So if you’ve ever felt called to serve but thought, “I’m not supposed to be in a pulpit,” hear me—ministry isn’t confined to a stage. It’s anywhere you love, lead, and lift people higher in the name of Jesus. It’s wear you surrender your plans to the guidance of the Holy Spirit. And hear me on this; whatever you put your hands to do you’re supposed to work as unto God. That means learning and executing in excellence. That includes investing to be the best at your craft and putting in as much time as it takes to be great. If your business is a gift from God treat it with the respect such a gift deserves. God can use your voice—right where you are. Maybe more of us are in ministry than we think. 😉