There’s this unspoken pressure in leadership, especially church leadership, that you always need to be doing something. Casting vision. Solving problems. Keeping things moving. Keeping people happy. Keeping the lights on.
It can sneak up on you, this expectation. No one says it out loud. But it hums under every meeting, every email, every check-in. You start to believe that your value is in what you produce. That stillness is stagnation. That if you’re not actively making something happen, you’re somehow failing.
Since this is my limb, I’ll say it…WRONG! (This is different from those afraid of making decisions.)
This is not just an innocent misunderstanding, but a distortion of what part of leadership is supposed to be.
Some of the most significant leadership moments I’ve experienced, both giving and receiving, haven’t come through action plans or bold speeches. They’ve come through listening. Deep, intentional, patient listening.
Not listening to respond.
Not listening to fix.
But listening to honour. To hold space. To let someone be seen.
There’s a difference between hearing and listening. Hearing happens automatically. But listening? Listening is a discipline. A spiritual practice. A posture of the soul.
It requires you to set aside your agenda.
To resist the urge to perform.
To let silence stretch a little longer than feels comfortable.
To trust that the Spirit might already be doing the work, you’re just there to witness it.
One of my favourite shows is The West Wing. There’s a scene in ‘The Dogs of War’ episode (S5E2), Leo McGarry turns to President Walken and says,
“This office isn’t always about doing something.”
That line is in response to Walken rushing to make decisions with the limited time that he has.
What if leadership isn’t always about what you do?
What if it’s not about how much ground you cover, but how present you are with the person right in front of you?
What if the most faithful thing we can offer as leaders is not clarity, but company?
In coaching, I often see this. People don’t come to me for answers, really. They come hoping to be heard. They want someone to reflect what they already know deep down but can’t quite access on their own.
Leadership isn’t always about doing something.
Sometimes it’s about resisting the urge to fix.
Sometimes it’s choosing quiet over control.
Sometimes, the most radical thing you can offer is your attention.
So if you find yourself weary from all the doing, here’s your invitation:
Close the tab.
Turn the phone face down.
Let someone else speak.
And trust that even in the stillness, even in the listening, God is still at work.
Photo by Caden Bern on Unsplash