From Pharmacist to Fun Zone: How Brad Goedeker Grew Two Businesses on Faith, Service, and the Golden Rule

Comfort Is Not the Same as Calling

By every measurable standard, Brad Goedeker had made it. A pharmacist by training, he had climbed to a director-level role at a health plan — a position that, as he puts it, "was the envy of a number of people." The title was solid. The income was steady. The path forward was clear.

And yet something wouldn't let him settle.

"I didn't think I was using the talents that God had given me in the best way possible," Goedeker says. "And so it was like, okay, what else do we do?"

That honest reckoning — the kind that happens quietly in the middle of a successful career — set off a chain of decisions that led him to become Managing Partner of Rascals Fun Zone, a family entertainment center in Whiteland, Indiana, and a partner at Glass House Gallery, a luxury window and door company based in Carmel. Neither move was safe. Both required faith.

"That whole process took a lot of risk, a lot of faith, a lot of prayer to decide — okay, we're going to leave this comfort that we've created and try this new thing."

His brother Jeff, who became his business partner, helped provide the push Goedeker needed to take risks he admits he might not have taken alone. "Having such a close-knit family has really been such a blessing and helped me to answer God's call — to do new things and try to impact people in a broader and better way than I was before."

The Golden Rule, Lived Out at 90 Employees Strong

Walk into Rascals Fun Zone on a summer weekend and you'll find go-karts roaring, arcade games flashing, and families creating memories together. You'll also find a staff of roughly 90 people — many of them teenagers working their very first job. For Goedeker, that's not just a workforce. It's a responsibility.

He doesn't lead from a distance. He gets to know his team, makes himself available, and speaks plainly about what he expects — not just in terms of performance, but in terms of how people treat one another. He traces that approach directly to Scripture.

"Almost everybody knows the Golden Rule," he says. "How would you want to be treated if you were going out and doing something with your family, or working with other vendors or strategic partners? Let's make sure we're treating them exactly the way we would hope to be treated in the best possible scenario. That sets the tone for all other interactions and relationships."

It's a principle simple enough to engrave on a wall and profound enough to reshape a company culture — if you actually live it.

You're Not the Finish Line. You're the Starting Line.

Goedeker is clear-eyed about the nature of his workforce. Most of the young people at Rascals won't be there long. They'll move on to college, careers, trades, and lives he can't yet imagine. He doesn't see that as a problem. He sees it as a purpose.

"We're under no notion that these people are going to be with us long term. So we want to help prepare them for what comes next. We get to take their attention and effort while they're here, and hopefully we can impact them in a very positive way now so they can do well later."

That means investing in his emerging leaders — not just managing them. Over the past several months, Goedeker says his focus has shifted toward identifying high-ceiling team members and pouring resources into their growth. When they come to him unsure of how to handle a situation, his response isn't judgment. It's collaboration.

"Let's solve this together. Let me help you really reach your potential." The goal, he says, is that when the day comes for someone to move on, it's a celebration — not a loss. "We're going to be thrilled when they leave. We're going to be rooting for them."

That posture reflects something deeper than good HR practice. It reflects a theology of stewardship: the people on your team are entrusted to you for a season, and what you do with that season matters eternally.

Renewal Is Not Optional

If there's one discipline Goedeker returns to again and again, it's the practice of spiritual renewal — and the very real consequences of skipping it.

He attends Mass weekly, and not merely out of habit. He's learned to read his own soul well enough to notice what happens when he misses. "I can tell when I don't go," he says. "You didn't have that time with God to kind of reset yourself and your mindset. And then you're not as patient. You're not as quick to accept bad news."

He makes worship non-negotiable even while traveling, even when it complicates logistics. "Sometimes it makes things difficult," he admits, "but in the long run it's more difficult when I didn't establish what my priorities were and I let something else dictate it."

That same intentionality shapes how he vocalizes his values — to his team, to his partners, to anyone listening. He's learned that saying what you believe out loud creates accountability. "You put it out there: this is how we operate. And then you can't do the opposite of it."

What Goedeker Would Tell a Younger Leader

For Christian business leaders early in the journey of integrating faith and work, Goedeker offers counsel that's honest rather than polished.

The intention to lead from faith is real. But then the day starts, the inbox fills, and that intention quietly steps aside. He knows because it happens to him.

"You have to renew that thought every day. Make some goals, try to hold yourself accountable, know you're going to fall short, and then try again. It is not easy. God is right there to show us and tell us — and sometimes we're just not looking that way."

His advice isn't a formula. It's a posture: stay humble, look inward when things go wrong, ask for direction, and remain open to following it when it comes. Don't assume you have all the answers — because, as he says with a laugh, "I certainly do not."

There's freedom in that admission. And there's power in a leader willing to say it out loud.

Building Something That Lasts

Brad Goedeker left a comfortable career not because it was failing, but because he sensed he was made for more. Today he runs two businesses, coaches his kids in baseball and cheers on his daughter in volleyball, invests in community coaches who are "on fire" for the next generation, and shows up every Sunday to reset with the One who called him out of comfort in the first place.

The throughline in all of it is service — to his team, his guests, his family, his community. Not as a strategy, but as a calling.

"Being a servant to other people," he says, "is the way I need to view things. And so far, I think it's treated me right."

That's not a business philosophy. That's a life well-built.