Work Is Life’s Greatest Therapy “Jim McIngvale”
Highlights from Houston legend, Jim McIngvale’s speech today at the Houston Entrepreneurs Forum.
[Opening – Personal Setback / Humor]
Forty-six years ago, I was 28, living at home in Dallas, sacking groceries for $3 an hour—with a college degree and a chip on my shoulder the size of Texas.
One day, my boss at the “Stop & Rob” looked me dead in the eye and said, “Son, you’ve got a bad attitude.”
I said, “Yes sir, but I’m working on it.”
He said, “Well, work on it somewhere else.”
I got fired. Fell into a funk. Slept in, sulked, played the victim. I had a PhD in “Poor Me.”
[Turning Point]
Then one Saturday, I caught Oral Roberts on TV. Not my usual thing, but he said:
“The world doesn’t owe you a favor. You owe the world a favor.”
It hit me: Get up. Go to work. Make something of your life.
[Early Hustle]
I got a job at a small furniture store. No car—rode the bus two hours each way.
After 18 months, I had a dream: open my own store.
Told my girlfriend Linda, “We’re moving to Houston!”
She said, “No we’re not.”
By 11 p.m., she slammed her hand on the dash and said, “Fine—but you have to marry me first.”
I thought, “Where else am I gonna find an employee this loyal… for that price?”
[Launch & Grind]
We moved with $3,600. Slept on inventory. No plumbing. Sold out every weekend.
Rented a U-Haul, drove to Dallas at 2 a.m., loaded up furniture, drove back to sell on Sunday.
That was 44 years ago. Still at it. No regrets.
[Business Evolves]
But times change. Furniture’s at a 100-year low. Rates are high. People aren’t buying homes—or sofas.
So, we pivot. Shift to new markets. Launch new ventures. That’s what entrepreneurs do.
[Purpose & People]
But it’s not just profit. It’s purpose.
I’ve got former felons, addicts—guys who show up scared, unsure if they belong.
We feed them. No phones at lunch—just conversation.
They connect. They belong. And when their ride doesn’t show, they still find a way to work.
[It Takes a Village]
There’s a kid, Bryson. Met him at seven. Mom was a prostitute. Raised by his great-grandma—and 40 people at my store.
It takes a village. We used to have one. Now it’s time to build it again.
