The Hidden Costs of Business Debt

You can’t serve two masters.
Not in life.
Not in faith.
And definitely not in business.

That’s the lens I’m looking through in this episode.
Because after a lifetime of being buried in debt — personally and professionally — I’ve started to understand what it really costs. Not just in dollars, but in leadership. In freedom. In people.

And I don’t think we talk about that enough.

Two Types of Debt (Only One Sets You Free)

Let’s strip this down.

Every business owner uses debt.
The question isn’t if — it’s how. And more importantly, why.

There are only two kinds of debt:

A Tool – Used to create value.
Think: a line of credit to bridge cash flow while receivables clear. Smart. Tactical. Temporary. It helps you do what you’re already built to do — just faster.
A Constraint – Used to consume value.
Think: borrowing money for a boat, or a bloated truck, or an office upgrade you think you need. It feels good. But it strangles your future.

The difference? One gives you momentum. The other steals your options.

What the Bible Says (and Why It’s Practical)

Even if you're not religious, the Bible’s financial wisdom is no joke.

In Proverbs 6:1-5, the writer says:

“Deliver yourself… like a gazelle from the hand of the hunter.”

Translation?
If you’re in debt, run. Fast. Don’t settle in. Don’t normalize it.

And in Matthew 6:24:

“You cannot serve both God and money.”

You will either be led by your mission or by your creditors.
One of them is always calling the shots.

As a Christian entrepreneur, this isn’t about being spiritual for the sake of it. It’s about understanding that freedom is the prerequisite for stewardship.

You can’t lead boldly when you’re weighed down by poor money decisions.

Business Owners Get This Wrong Constantly

Here’s what I see too often — and I’ve done it myself:

Borrow to buy something that doesn’t create value
Use “cash in the bank” as a signal of profitability
Assume busyness = success
Fail to understand the real burden you’ve placed on your team

If you're carrying $50K in debt that’s not producing $50K in returns, you’re not just hurting yourself — you’re limiting your people.

Because when you’re constrained, you can’t:

Hire well
Buy what matters
Move fast
Take risks
Say yes to the right things

A Better Framework: Stewardship Over Scale

I’m not anti-growth.
I’m anti-delusion.

If your business isn’t cash flowing—where you can pay bills without dipping into your line of credit—you’re already in trouble.

Real stewardship looks like:

Knowing your inflows and outflows
Drawing income from actual cash, not a borrowed float
Borrowing only when you know it will increase your capacity to serve

And let’s be honest: Most entrepreneurs don’t do that.
We confuse revenue for success and debt for leverage.

But freedom isn’t about scale.
It’s about control.

The Leadership Fallout

Here’s the sobering truth:

If you’re carrying the wrong kind of debt, your team feels it.

They feel it when you delay hiring.
They feel it when you can’t invest in better tools.
They feel it when opportunities are missed because your cash flow is tapped.

And worst of all?

You’ve told them you’re building something great.
But the debt you carry is telling a different story.

You can’t lead well if you’re always trying to serve both the mission and the MasterCard.

So What Now?

If you’re in debt, ask one question:

“Is this helping me create more value — or is it constraining what I can do?”

If it’s the latter, you have two choices:

Fix it.
Cut expenses. Shift models. Sell something. Free up cash.
Change it.
Refinance. Restructure. Turn the debt into something that does help you grow.

But pretending it’s fine? That’s not leadership.

Final Word: Lead Like It Matters

At the end of the day, I want the people who work under my leadership to leave better than they arrived. That means:

More valuable
More skilled
More free

Debt can block all of that.

So if I’m serious about creating value, I have to start by eliminating the things that steal value.

And 9 times out of 10, that’s debt I should never have taken on in the first place.