Leadership

love/hate relationship

I have a love/hate relationship with asking boomerang questions. You know the kind: questions that invoke open criticism of yourself. We just finished up the debriefing session that is always the hardest for me. We gave the interns time to share any suggestions they have for improving the program.  We told them we wouldn't defend ourselves or even explain why things were done the way they were (unless we felt it was absolutely imperative ). So the interns had full permission to just say what they disliked about their year.

I love it and I hate it all at the same time.

I love it because I always want to get better at what we do. I want next year's interns to have an even greater experience than this year's. I want to learn from our mistakes and make things more effective as we go forward. I also just love giving someone the "ok", and making them feel comfortable enough, to share this level of honest feedback.

I hate it because it's hard to hear that sort of honesty about how I've failed. It's difficult to not defend or explain myself, but to simply listen for the issue that underlies what's actually being said. I hate it because I find it so hard not to take this kind of criticism personally.

In the long-run, I know that this morning's challenging conversation will lead to an improved internship program. This is the sort of thing that makes me a better leader. Even if I hate it while I love it.

What do you have a love/hate relationship with?

burden of leadership

I've been pondering the burden of leadership. Let me explain... A lot of people have come through the revolving door of our ministry in the past decade: interns, mission team members, staff. Many others are tied into us through their support. All in all, we have a huge spiderwebbed network of people that are connected to Thrive Africa. And that makes them connected to Niel and I.

While I don't personally stay in touch with every single person in the Thrive spiderweb, I correspond with as many as I can (and as many as want to write back!) and we pray often for our entire extended family.

The past few weeks have unraveled some heartbreaking things that are going on in our family members' lives. It culminated this morning with the news---before 8 AM, mind you---that two people had just lost loved ones.

And it's left my heart feeling heavy.

So I'm wrestling with this whole burden of leadership thing. I know I'm not responsible for people, only to them. I know I can't carry the burdens that others carry in their lives. I know that allowing myself to get "emotionally involved" with even a fraction of the thousands of people that are connected with Thrive is more than I could ever handle. I know that I can't be everyone's fixer, that I can't always have the answer, that I can't always be there for people. I know all of that.

But that still doesn't make it any easier to hear that people I know and love are facing

  • the deaths of two family members within 9 months

  • sexual abuse at the hands of someone they should've been able to trust

  • unceasing physical pain

  • emotional scars and hurts that have festered for years

  • inexplicable health problems

  • a long road ahead due to horribly wrong life decisions

What are your thoughts on the burden of leadership? Where's the line between compassion and an unhealthy taking-it-on-yourself-ness? How much caring is too much, and how much is not enough?

taking my pulse

My head and heart have been tsunamied in recent weeks, which has left me feeling disconnected not only from my friends but also from myself. I haven't been able to figure out how my heart is really doing, much less articulate that to someone else. This much I know is true: All too often in ministry, we want change for others more than they want it for themselves. I'm always left with a feeling of brokenness when I'm confronted with that ugly truth.

We ministered at a local church on Sunday, and before the service we shared a cup of tea and some conversation with the Mamoruti (pastor's wife). She shook her head and said, "You know, sometimes leadership is just so hard." Has she been reading my blog?! Although she and I lead in very different capacities, we both experience similar pressures and challenges as leaders. It felt strengthening to simply be understood.

I'm still not sure how to really answer "How are you?" right now. But I'm reminding myself that He sees, He knows, He cares. And He's holding my heart gently.

sometimes

I just wrote probably the hardest email I've ever had to write. It was slow-going. I stared at the blank email box for a long time, trying hard to formulate words that could somehow capture my heart. I came up empty handed. I started with that admission and then basically mumbled and fumbled my way through it. More than ever before, I wished I could crawl through the internet and have a face-to-face conversation rather than responding in email form.

But I did it. I found words and I hit send.

Sometimes, being in leadership just sucks.