Showing Jesus Before Telling Jesus: How Tyler Kamerman Found His Calling at Many Hands

A Curveball on a Tuesday

Tyler Kamerman had a plan. He was going to pitch Tim Brand, CEO of Many Hands, on letting him lead impact weekends — a curriculum designed to help people discover God's calling on their lives. It was the perfect platform for a guy building a podcast and chasing a public speaking career. He sat down ready to sell his idea.

Tim listened. Then he said, "Hold onto your chair for a second."

"I've had people outside the organization bring your name up. I've had people inside my organization bring your name up. And last week, I was praying over the campus, and I just felt like God said, now's the time. I want you to become my development officer."

Tyler sat with that for a moment. His entire fundraising résumé consisted of raising $5,000 for the epilepsy foundation once. He told Tim as much. Tim agreed — it was a far cry from what the role required. But that didn't seem to matter to either of them.

Three days later, Tyler's wife Jessica came home with news of her own: her boss had just offered her a path to become a licensed selling agent on his real estate team. The income gap that had made Tim's offer feel impossible had just closed — in 72 hours.

"Bonuses went away on Tuesday, and they came back on Friday. God was just like, no, it is going to work."

The Long Road Back

Tyler grew up in the church — Sunday school, catechism, youth group, the whole rhythm of a Reformed Christian household in a small Iowa town. He gave his life to Jesus at fifth-grade summer camp outside Inwood, Iowa. Then life happened.

College brought poor decisions. A move to Los Angeles brought a lifestyle he's candid about — one that didn't involve much of God. He met Jessica. They weren't walking with the Lord. But even then, something kept pulling at him.

"Even with the lifestyle that we were living, it was like at least once a month I was like, man, we should really go to church. God kept chasing us even when we weren't chasing Him."

Then, at 30, Tyler lost his father. The grief turned to anger — and the anger aimed itself straight at God. He kept showing up to church, but for all the wrong reasons. Then one Sunday, the pastor greeted him on the way out, looked him in the eye, and asked how he was doing. Not politely. Genuinely. Tyler nearly broke down right there in the lobby.

He booked time in the pastor's office. He laid everything out — the anger, the confusion, the unanswered prayers. The pastor listened without interruption. Then he leaned forward.

"So let me get this straight. You think the creator of the universe, the God who sent his Son to die on the cross for your sins — you think he can't handle Tyler Kamerman being mad at him?"

It wasn't a lightning-bolt moment. No bright light, no instant transformation. But something cracked open. A few years later, when his son Ian was born, Tyler started actively chasing Christ for the first time in his adult life. He was 33.

"I realized I had a great dad who led me to Jesus," he says. "And I needed to do the same."

Building the Skills Before You Know What They're For

Tyler's career looks like a winding road — Pella Windows in Los Angeles, a wood window and door company, a pivot to financial services at Principal when he decided he didn't want to travel after his son was born. Five years at Principal. A year at Bankers Trust. Four years at Bank of the West on the private banking side.

At each stop, he was building something he didn't fully understand yet: the ability to be comfortable with anyone. From a client writing a $10 monthly check to someone writing a six-figure one, Tyler learned how to enter people's worlds and actually help them.

"I need to be able to talk to somebody who's able to donate $10 a month and I need to be able to talk to somebody that's able to write a six-figure check and be comfortable in both of those roles. I really feel like through all these different twists and turns in my career, God was setting me up to do this job well."

Now, as Chief Development Officer at Many Hands, he gets to deploy every bit of it. The organization runs four — soon to be five — thrift stores across central Iowa that fund and introduce people to their mission in Haiti and Abaco Island in the Bahamas. Their approach is simple and convicting: meet physical needs first, then speak.

"We're showing Jesus rather than telling Jesus. How can we show the love of Jesus? Because when we show the love of Jesus, that gives us the credibility to talk about the love of Jesus."

He's quick to name what gets this wrong. Missionary work that strings a meal behind a salvation presentation misses the whole point. A starving person cannot receive a message — not until the hunger is addressed. Many Hands leads with the hands, then opens the conversation.

The Strength That Can Also Undo You

Tyler describes himself as impulsive. He moved from a town of 5,000 to a city of 27 million at 23. He pivots quickly, asks boldly, and charges forward where others hesitate. His first managing director at Principal told him that willingness to move was one of the main reasons he recruited him.

But that same trait can become a liability — at work and at home. Tyler has a daughter who matches his personality almost exactly. When she digs her heels in, he goes from zero to ten fast. He's learned to catch it.

"My faith has helped me discern between now's the time to be brave, now's the time to go — versus now's the time you need to chill. You need to be more intentional. You need to be more patient."

That discernment is spiritual work, not personality management. It's the kind of thing that doesn't happen without time spent listening.

The One Habit That Changes Everything

If Tyler could go back and hand his 20-year-old self one piece of advice, it wouldn't be about career moves or financial planning. It would be about mornings.

You get to know God the same way you get to know anyone — by spending time with him. And Tyler argues the best time is before the day starts. Not an hour-long commitment that burns out in three days. Start with five minutes. Read one chapter. Let it grow from there.

"Taking that time in the morning is crucial because it level sets. I'm surrendering the day and saying, I'm going to follow you. And let's be honest — there are times when I don't even make it 10 minutes down the road before I'm throwing that out the window because someone cut me off on the freeway. But if I didn't spend that 20 minutes with Jesus, I'd probably lose my peace and my mind. This way I might lose my peace, but I don't lose my mind."

His wife noticed the difference before he did. On mornings he skipped it, she could tell — and she'd ask. It wasn't accusation. It was witness.

Proverbs 3:6 says to acknowledge God in all your ways, and he will direct your paths. Tyler's story is that verse lived out — not in a straight line, not without detours through anger and bad decisions, but with a God who kept showing up anyway. The role at Many Hands wasn't in Tyler's plan. It was in a better one.

If you're a leader trying to integrate your faith with your work, Tyler's challenge is direct: stop waiting until you have it figured out. Start tomorrow morning, five minutes earlier than usual, with one chapter and an open hand. That's where the direction begins.