10 mins

For those of you who don’t know me yet, I’m happily married—coming up on six years—and I’m the proud father of a daughter who’s nearly two. I’ve been holding off on writing about this topic until I could say that, because I guess I felt it would give me a bit more credibility when talking about something as challenging and personal as work-life balance.

I’ll be honest: work-life balance wasn’t something I thought much about before becoming a father. Back then, I was young and ambitious, and the more hours I could pour into building my career, the better. But after our daughter was born, something shifted. I started to realise there’s so much more to life than work—and that realisation pushed me to find a healthier balance.

I’ve always considered myself deeply dedicated to my work, but I think it’s important to distinguish that from being a workaholic. In his book The Juggling Act: Bringing Balance to Your Faith, Family, and Work, Pat Gelsinger (former CEO of Intel) makes this distinction clear. A workaholic often sacrifices personal relationships, health, and well-being for work. But someone who’s dedicated finds a way to honour their responsibilities without letting work overshadow the other important parts of life—like family, faith, and personal health.

Make no mistake, there are definitely days when you’ll catch me working at odd hours. But when I’m with my family, I make a conscious effort to switch off and be present. That’s still a muscle I’m learning to strengthen, but it’s one I’m committed to developing.

In many ways, I can relate to someone like Pat. His book helped me understand how he managed to “juggle” his work, faith, and family responsibilities over the years. I love how he describes his experience, and I couldn’t agree more—because when life hands you a busy, demanding season, it truly can feel like you’re juggling multiple balls at once. In those moments, it becomes essential to recognise which balls are made of rubber, and which are made of glass. The rubber ones can bounce back if dropped—but the glass ones? They shatter. And those are the ones you must protect at all costs.

Personally, I think it’s okay to go through intense seasons of life. But it’s worth asking: Is this pace sustainable—and for how long? If I decide to go the extra mile at work, will those extra efforts be recognised? In his book Fit for Success, Nick Shaw warns that if you keep your foot on the proverbial gas pedal too long, your tank will eventually run dry. I once heard it framed another way: Show me a wealthy person who drives a Rolls-Royce 24/7 without stopping to refuel or service the car. It’s simply not how machines—or people—are built. Even the finest engines break down without rest and care. And so do we.

Over the years, I’ve discovered a handful of tactics that have truly helped me find a better balance between my work and personal life.

• Inject a healthy dose of margin into your life

In his book The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry, John Mark Comer describes margin as “the space between our load and our limits.” I can vividly remember seasons in life when that space simply didn’t exist. At work, my plate was overflowing—I couldn’t take on a single extra task. At home, we had a lot going on and a baby to raise (in a foreign country with no family to support us). If life had handed me anything more during those moments, I would’ve likely tumbled—and I shudder to think about the repercussions.

So here’s my advice: know your limits, and keep a close eye on your load. You may go through seasons where margin is nonexistent, but that should be the exception, not the norm. One thing that’s helped me create a healthier margin is learning to say no more often. The truth is, we often run out of space not because life demands too much—but because we say yes too easily.

• Recharge regularly

In his book The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari, Robin Sharma tells the tale of the Sages of Sivana and how they “all took time daily to silently contemplate not only where they were in life, but where they were going. They took the time to reflect on their purpose and how they were living their lives, every day.”

Similarly, in The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry, John Mark Comer explores four practices for unhurrying your life, drawing inspiration from the life of Jesus Christ. One of these practices is silence and solitude. He explains how, after Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness (to be alone), he emerged at the height of his spiritual power. In another instance, the Gospels describe how Jesus spent a month and a half in a quiet place, returned to Capernaum for a single day of busy activity, and then immediately withdrew again to the eremos to pray. Comer emphasizes that solitude wasn’t a one-time event for Jesus—it was a consistent rhythm in his life. In fact, the busier and more in-demand Jesus became, the more he retreated to his quiet place.

In today’s fast-paced world, escaping to the mountains or completely withdrawing from society isn’t always realistic. But if we take our well-being seriously, we can—and should—create space to recharge physically and mentally. I’ve gone through seasons that felt like storms, and what always carried me through was carving out time in the morning for my “quiet time.” Recharging can take many forms, including but not limited to meditation, mindfulness, prayer, journaling, nature walks (or other physical activity), and breathwork. Whatever form it takes, the key is consistency. Even a few minutes of intentional stillness each day can help restore clarity, energy, and peace.

As a family, we also try to carve out space for a weekly sabbatical—a day to slow down, unplug, and just be. But if I’m honest, we’re still figuring out how to protect that time. It’s so easy to let little things creep in—errands, distractions, etc.—and before we know it, the day doesn’t feel much different from the rest of the week.

When we do it right, though, we feel lighter, more connected, and genuinely refreshed. It’s like giving our souls a chance to breathe. That’s why we’re learning to be more intentional about what we allow in on that day. Stressors can wait. The world can wait. Because this time is sacred—and we need it more than we sometimes realise.

• Understand your circle of control and know what’s in it

Stephen Covey is well known for introducing us to the concept of the Circle of Control. He explains it in the following way in his book The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People:

• Circle of Concern: Everything you care about or worry about.
• Circle of Influence: Things you can affect but not fully control.
• Circle of Control: The innermost circle—your thoughts, actions, and decisions. These are all things that you can control.

Whenever I feel overwhelmed in life, I try and take stock of what’s on my mind and weighing heavy on my shoulders. More often than not, I allow things outside of my circle of control to weigh me down and impact my day. However, I now try and focus on only those things that I can control and influence. Over the years, I really have grown fond of the serenity prayer:

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,  courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.”

• Create healthy boundaries

Establishing healthy boundaries isn’t just important—it’s essential. As Henry Cloud and John Townsend write in their book Boundaries, “the inability to set appropriate boundaries at appropriate times with the appropriate people can be very destructive.” And it’s true: people won’t know your boundaries unless you show them.

I’ve had to set some very specific boundaries at work to protect my well-being. When I joined my current employer, I made a deliberate choice not to install any work apps on my phone. I know colleagues who were replying to emails and messages while on vacation in Greece. No thanks—I’m not signing up for that.

I’ve also negotiated flexibility in my working hours. Every second Tuesday, I take the day off to spend with my daughter (due to daycare limitations). Sure, I make up the hours on other days—and trust me, some of those days are long—but it’s worth it. That time with her is sacred. My colleagues know: every other Tuesday is off-limits for Jacques.

I feel genuinely grateful to live and work in a country that values a healthy work-life balance. In the Netherlands, it’s common to be offered a 36-hour workweek, and many people (like me) take a day off every other week. This rhythm has had a positive impact on me—not just personally, but professionally as well. Having more time to recharge allows me to bring greater focus, creativity, and energy to my work.

• Never lose perspective

Even though I remain deeply committed to my work and genuinely enjoy the challenges I get to tackle with my colleagues, I’ve reached a point where I see my job more as a means to an end than the end itself.

Karl Pillemer once interviewed a thousand elderly Americans to uncover the most important lessons they’d learned over a lifetime. What they valued most weren’t promotions or packed schedules—they spoke about quality friendships, being part of something bigger than themselves, and spending unstructured, meaningful time with their children.

It’s well known that almost no one lies on their deathbed wishing they’d spent more time at the office. Work matters, of course—but it’s not everything. It’s easy to lose perspective and let seemingly urgent but ultimately trivial issues pull us away from what truly counts. Someone once said, “I can remember every major event in my kids’ lives that I missed. I can’t remember any of the reasons I missed them.” That line stuck with me.

Not long ago, I had a rough day at work—one of those days where I felt like a punching bag. But during my lunch break, something shifted. I was reminded that my life is so much more than my job. That moment helped me shake off the negativity. I thought of my wife and daughter, my friends, our life here in the Netherlands. That’s what really matters and what gives my life meaning.

I want to end with a passage from The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari that continues to shape how I think as a husband and now father:

“What is the point of climbing the steps of success if you have missed the first steps of your own kids? What good is owning the biggest house on your block if you have not taken the time to create a home? What is the use of being known across the country as a red-hot trial lawyer if your kids don’t even know their father?”

These words remind me that real success isn’t measured by titles, wealth, or recognition—it’s found in the quiet, meaningful moments we share with the people we love. No achievement is worth sacrificing the relationships that give life its deepest meaning.