My Haneni: Leading with Heart, and Healing Through Faith

Feb 6
3 min read

By Lisa Wheeler

For most of my early career, I lived almost entirely in the secular world — the world of high-stakes communications, over-scheduling, big personalities, platforms, and pressure. I learned quickly how to navigate rooms where faith wasn’t just uncommon; it was often unwelcome. You kept your spiritual life quiet. You kept your professional life polished. And somewhere between the two, you learned to survive by compartmentalizing.

But survival isn’t the same as calling.

Over time, I realized my faith wasn’t something to tuck away when I entered “real work.” It was the very thing that made my work worth doing. And the more I tried to keep the sacred and secular separate, the more God kept inviting me to bring them together — not perfectly, but courageously.

So when people ask, “How did you merge faith with modern leadership?” my answer is simple: I didn’t merge them. I let faith transform the leadership I already had.

My career began in spaces where metrics and momentum mattered more than meaning. But everything shifted when I started an agency of my own, a business that didn’t hide my faith but amplified it. A company that could stand as a bridge between the sacred and the secular, not choosing one world over the other, but refusing to abandon either.

Because the world of arts and entertainment is not godless. It is searching. It is hungry. It is full of people carrying silent wounds while producing loud projects. And faith doesn’t weaken in that environment — it shines.

I learned that in a profoundly personal way during my work on the film Breakthrough. I was exhausted — the kind of tired that sits behind your eyes and whispers, “Maybe you’re not cut out for this.” We were navigating the emotional weight of the story, the logistics of outreach, the pressure of expectations. One day, Jason Noble, whose family’s story inspired the film, said something that stopped me cold: all he wanted was to “make Jesus famous.”

Not make himself famous. Not make the movie famous. Make Jesus famous.

It wasn’t a marketing line. It was a heart posture. And in that moment, grace rearranged my priorities.

I had been leading with passion, yes — but also with an undercurrent of proving myself. I wanted the work to succeed. I wanted to get it right. But leadership rooted in faith isn’t about me carrying the whole thing. It’s about showing up faithfully and letting God be God. That moment didn’t remove the pressure, but it transformed it. I could breathe again. I could lead from peace instead of performance.

Grace became a gentle correction and a deep comfort. I had been striving in my own strength, but God reminded me that leadership rooted in Him doesn’t demand perfection; it asks for surrender. And surrender is where clarity lives.

It’s also where compassion becomes possible. The secular world teaches leaders to protect themselves first. The sacred world teaches that real leadership is stewardship of people, trust, influence, and impact. Compassion doesn’t weaken leadership; it purifies it. It grounds decisions in dignity. It lets truth and kindness sit at the same table. It creates teams where people can breathe enough to bring their best work forward.

A few years ago, a woman I deeply respect, someone who spends her life serving vulnerable children, spoke a Hebrew word over me: Haneni.

“Whatever You ask of me, Lord, I have already said yes.”

That word didn’t just bless me — it redefined me.

Haneni is the posture of a leader who refuses to choose between sacred and secular. It is the posture of someone willing to enter any room God calls her into — a boardroom, a film set, a studio, or a prayer space — and say, “I’m here. Use me.”

Now I wake up every morning and speak haneni over my day. Some days that yes is bold and public. Some days it is quiet and costly. But every day it is the bridge — the connection point between the world I came from and the Kingdom I now serve through my work.