Burn the Ships: Committed and Unapologetic
“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
In 334 BC, Alexander the Great set sail with 75,000 troops to confront his greatest enemy—the Persian Empire. At just 22 years old, he had adequate military experience to know they’d be severely outnumbered once they reached land. As his soldiers stepped onto the beach, Alexander made a bold and decisive command: burn the boats.
His men questioned him, and he simply replied, “We go home in Persian ships, or we die.” There was no apology or justification, only a steadfast commitment to fulfill his purpose. With no option for retreat, they fought and went on to conquer the Persian Empire. Today, Alexander is remembered as one of history’s greatest military strategists.
A similar event occurred in 1519 when Hernán Cortés and his fleet of Spaniards arrived in what is now modern-day Mexico. The Aztec Empire was known for its immense treasures. Many had tried—and failed—to conquer it. Knowing he needed unwavering commitment from his outnumbered troops, Cortés gave the same infamous order: burn the ships. There was no turning back; they advanced and ultimately overtook the Aztec capital of Tenochtitlan.
I can’t help but imagine what those poor soldiers must have felt in the moment. Perhaps they were fearful, panicked, or maybe even frustrated with their leader…But something incredible happened when their fear gave way to unwavering courage.
Have you ever experienced anything like this? Where you committed so fully to something—despite the fear, despite the risk of failure—and there was no turning back? A few readers just thought, “Yes…when I got married.”
Lately, I’ve been thinking about these stories in a new context.
Many of us have metaphorical ships we need to burn: a toxic relationship, a destructive habit, or a negative thought pattern. Maybe it’s a place, a possession, or even a type of food. Whatever it is, you know it’s not good for you, and you know it’s holding you back.
What comes to mind? What is your stronghold?
Here are two of mine:
First, I consider relationships.
You’ve heard the sayings: “You are who you surround yourself with,” and “You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.” What is your environment like? Are you surrounded by people who bring out the best—or the worst in you? If it’s the latter, what concessions are you making for them?
In Saint Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, he warns, “Do not be misled, bad company disrupts good character” (1 Corinthians 15:33).
As I grow older, this becomes more obvious as I spend time with acquaintances who do not share the same values I do.
One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned in business and life is this: only work with people whose values align with your own—no exceptions. Every time I made an exception, I paid the price.
Next, I consider expectations.
This year, I burned the ship of expectation—specifically, the concern of what other people think of me. It occurred after my husband directly pointed out, “Kari, you want to be successful, but you want everyone to be ok with your success.” His words struck me, because he was right.
This led me to ask myself, why do I care? Why do I accommodate other people's opinions of who I am? More importantly, why do I constantly feel like I am not enough? Many of us go through life trying to live up to someone else’s expectations, or what we perceive their expectations to be. The problem becomes, no level of achievement is ever enough.
Burning the ship of expectation means letting go of that pressure. It means showing up not to impress others, but to faithfully say yes to God's calling.
What does this look like? It is taking the road less traveled. Does it look silly? Probably. Inconsistent? Perhaps. Do I care? Momentarily, until I remember that saying yes to God is an adventure, and that’s the life I aim to live, despite what others think.
What is the effect of burning the ship of expectation? It’s experiencing a deeper love for who God made me to be, because I’m no longer trying to fit in someone else’s box. It is the willingness to be bold and try new things that don’t make sense. It is sometimes failure. It's getting back up, pivoting, and trying again. It is choosing authenticity over popularity. It is saying and writing what God has put on my heart—even if it challenges the status quo.
What has God placed on your heart? What would it look like if you burned the ships?
I’m not talking about burning bridges or being reckless. I’m talking about commitment—removing that one toxic thing in your life that drags you down, drains your energy, and bears no fruit. The one you keep going back to, simply because familiarity is easy, and absolutes are hard.
I have good news: do you know you don’t have to make this commitment alone?
Psalm 37:5 (ESV) states, “Commit your way to the Lord; trust in Him, and He will act.” He will act – what an important concept. If committing feels like too much, pray for Him to help you. If you show up, you can bet God will too.
When I think about the men standing on the beach, watching the ships be destroyed, I think about how they must have felt. They may have thought, What are we going to do now? Yet, there was only one logical answer – commit and fight.
Change is hard, especially when we’re letting go of something or someone familiar. However, there is freedom in aiming upwards, living right, and making a healthy choice.
Today, I encourage you to take the leap and make the hard choice. Remember, He will act and give you the courage you need.
Commit to burning the ships. Commit to who God is calling you to be. No excuses, no precepts, just authentically and unapologetically you.
Godspeed, my friend.
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“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”
