This is our first faith and work issue. Work is tough, no matter what kind you do or where you do it. For our work, we as humans have grown, invented, created, dreamed up and manufactured countless somethings out of innumerable nothings. Religion isn’t perfect, but faith is what has helped so many of us reach our goals, get to the end game and persevere in the toughest of times. Without faith, hitting send on that email and hoping the response is “Yes, we will invest in your project” or “Of course, we want to partner up” would be like any other keystroke. What else moves mountains? Needs a leap of, show of or act of? This is our inaugural Faith and Work Issue. Work without a touch of faith is tough to imagine, but let’s try it anyway. Just for kicks. Without faith in the working world, you wouldn’t hear, “Let’s pray the merger/bank loan/payment goes through” or “Have faith it will all work out” in the boardroom. George Michael’s famous song playing on Pandora in your cubicle would be simply about a guy wearing ripped jeans, a black leather jacket and a cross-shaped earring. That rosary in your top desk drawer would look like just another pretty necklace. Without faith, the Center for Faith & Work in New York City would just be the Center for Work. That doesn’t sound fun. And its events and operations manager Stephanie Cunningham wouldn’t have done an incredible interview with us about her calling. Without faith, there would be nothing special about taking off work on Dec. 25 or a select lunch hour each February/March, only to return to the office with ash on your forehead. Without faith, at least some colleagues who say, “I would be dead or in the nuthouse without my faith,” would be dead or in the nuthouse. In this dim world where faith and work are not intertwined, holding hands and bowing heads before an event begins (like the way Nick Hall led his team at Together 2016) would look like a bunch of co-workers gathering to search for someone’s lost earring. Pointing to the sky after a big win would appear you’re saying, “I’m No. 1,” instead of thanking the man upstairs. The next time you mimic a sports announcer and shout, “Do you believe in miracles?” after finishing that PowerPoint presentation, everyone would look at you with confusion. For me, it means this magazine would be known simply as Connect. All of us could use more faith in our work and, frankly, a touch of it in everything else we do too. Proving that notion is our first-ever “Agents of Change” feature, featuring planners and suppliers who are driven to make sure their faith is their work—and vice versa. Yours in good _____, (You fill in the blank.)