Other bulls to ride

“I have a feeling my career has just peaked.” I think a lot of first chair leaders feel the same as Colin Firth as he accepted the Best Actor Oscar for The King’s Speech in 2011. That’s why, in this final post in my series on exiting, I want to focus on the last part of this quote from Vineer Bhansali1:

“In bull-riding, once the eight seconds are up, there is no glory in staying on the bull… There will be other bulls to ride.”

The real goal of any bull rider is to ride again. He wants to walk away at the end of the day and get to compete next weekend.

But many leaders can’t help wondering, will there really be other bulls to ride? When leaders fall into the trap of thinking this is the only opportunity they’ll get, they’ll hold on too long. There are a number of fears that leaders face when they think about what’s next.

  • Fear they won’t get another opportunity. The fact is that, while you can prepare yourself for a CEO role, unless you “happened to have” the particular set of skills and experiences the board was looking for in a specific search process, you wouldn’t have been selected. So take confidence in the fact you were chosen, but recognize that a success in one CEO position does not necessarily mean you fit what another search team is looking for. It takes imagination and some humility to let go of the illusion that you are merely a CEO looking for a like-for-like position.
  • Feelings of inadequacy. Maybe there’s a bit of imposter syndrome, even after many years in the role. “If the board had only known… they would never have picked me.” One way this manifests is in an unshakable feeling that people give you attention because of your title, and people won’t love you if they don’t have a reason to. There’s also a sense of inadequacy around skills, because the top role requires a unique collection of general leadership skills, and line management requires a greater level of specialization and expertise. See The ladder for generalists for more on this subject.
  • Fear of irrelevance. Once you’re not in the first chair, you might miss:
    • being part of the inner circle
    • the idea of being needed2—perhaps the go-to fire fighter and problem solver
    • knowing everything that’s going on
    • the opportunities to leverage the position as a bully pulpit for speaking, for writing or advocating your favorite causes. 
  • Fear of loss. There are a lot of things to love about high level leadership, and some of them are addictive: power, attention, travel, accolades, achievement1, and that nicer desk, office or parking spot. They might be more challenging to walk away from than you would have admitted.

The issue of what’s next can be especially acute if an organization took the risk of appointing a young leader who still has some years left in his or her tank. You aren’t ready to retire, but you also don’t want to be that athlete who can never really discover who he is after his glory days ended with two-thirds of his life still remaining.

Leader, you need to hear this: You wouldn’t have gotten to the position you held if you didn’t have courage. You have overcome fears many times before, and you’ll need courage to face your exiting fears as well.

So let me try to present a few steps in your journey that might help you move ahead. 

1. Take time to grieve

You’re not wrong about some of your fears and the things you’ll miss. These losses are real, and require some time to grieve and adjust. You likely need some time off before starting into something else. You may also find that grieving and decompressing takes years. There are specialized resources available for leaders who are dismounting the bull.

2. Take time for reflection

In The Making of a Leader, Bobby Clinton3 says that phases of significant leadership maturity need to be followed by phases of life maturing. He encourages reflection to learn the lessons that spring out of a position of leadership: the mistakes he or she made, and lessons that can turn into a leadership philosophy. 

Then, before seeking a new position, do some self reflection around this question: Are you a leader in search of a team or cause to lead, or are you more committed to the cause than any particular role?

3. Bring that reflection and some imagination to your next role

There are a lot of other roles out there once you start looking for the next chapter in your career. Don’t think of this move as “downward;” some positions are more interesting, less stressful and more satisfying than the first chair role. You could consider a reset, such as a study program. Or you could leverage your experience with a lateral transfer to another organization or a mentoring/consulting role. You might return to a previous area of expertise or something you found enjoyable. Each option requires a mindset shift from the leader, and an organization willing to create the context to help you succeed. 

My next steps were driven first by my passion for the Bible translation and language ministry cause. I also had family considerations that required me to be a digital nomad, able to work from multiple locations. Choosing to focus has been the biggest challenge. The first chair leader gets involved in everything, and the variety and breadth can be addictive. Picking one area, or a small handful of areas to focus on, requires strong self awareness and discipline. But the first role you try doesn’t have to be permanent. I moved into one specialty that I’d enjoyed in my first-chair role, but I’ve now raised up a successor for my role and will be moving again to a new challenge.

As you consider the next bull to ride, here are some other questions to guide you.

  1. Can you get excited about another cause, and transfer your skills to leading in a different context?
  2. How will you adjust to working under a single supervisor, with less autonomy?
  3. Of all the things you engaged in, which ones gave you life and a sense of success, and which ones drained you? These are clues to help you pick a focus. 
  4. Did you see any squandered opportunities from your vantage point that might give you a specific challenge to dig into?
  5. As you imagine your next step, examine your motivations and your working style. What are you trying to escape and what conditions need to be in place to help you succeed?

Stepping out of the first chair doesn’t have to spell the end of your career, but it does require retooling and rethinking your attitude. Irving Berlin took a humorous view of this challenge in the movie White Christmas, when he penned the lyrics to, “What Can You Do With a General?4 In spite of its age, I found it hit close enough to be poignant, but contained sufficient truth to be funny.


References:

  1. How To Ride A Bucking Bull: Stay Calm And Hang On…For Now, article by Vineer Bhansali, Forbes, Sep 19, 2018
  2. Skoog, Greer, and Doolittle. Lead with Prayer. Faith Words. 2024. p132.
  3. J. Robert Clinton. The Making of a Leader. NavPress. 1988.
  4. What Can You Do With a General?, from White Christmas (1954)

Leadership as bull riding series:

Unexpected faith

As I began to unpack in my last post, it’s easy to think that faith thrives when the environment shelters it. However, faith actually suffers when roots don’t need to run deep. There’s something about hostile or dry environments that draws out deep faith.

And when faith springs up and flowers in dark places, it shines even brighter. 

The Bible puts Sidon firmly in the “dark” category. The region became wealthy through the trading done by their sea merchants, and the triumvirate of Isaiah, Jeremiah and Ezekiel all predict Sidon’s downfall for her sins against God (Is 23; Jer 25:15-22; Ez 28:20–24). But it turns out that the widow’s faith is not exceptional; it’s actually part of a pattern. 

First, Yahweh’s Temple is built with Sidonian cedar (1 Chron 22:4). How did that happen? While God intended for Joshua to drive out the peoples in modern-day Lebanon (Josh 13:6), the Sidonians were among those who remained as a thorn in Israel’s side (Judg 3:1-4). But when King David sets up a system of tribute and forced labor for many of these tenacious peoples, he instead works out a cooperative relationship with Sidon and Tyre. 1 Kings 5 records that the king of Tyre loves David so much that he willingly contributes huge amounts of cedar and woodworkers to build the Temple. 

Jumping to the New Testament, Jesus shames the Galileans by telling them that if Sidon had seen the miracles he performed among them, they would have repented quickly (Matt 11:21). Clearly he sees them as spiritually open and much more willing to accept his words than his own people are. Indeed Luke 6:17 notes that large numbers of people from Sidon come to hear him preach and be healed. 

Then in Mark 7:24-30 and Matthew 15:21-28, Jesus brings his disciples to the area for a retreat. They’ve been running flat out, and John the Baptist has been martyred. Jesus intends to give them a break in a resort town, but a local woman recognizes Jesus and pesters his disciples relentlessly about her daughter’s demonic possession. Jesus first puts her off by saying his primary mission is to Israel. But her tenacity, her submission and her scrappy logic impress him. Jesus responds, “Woman, you have great faith!” He then rewards this faith by healing her daughter. The receptivity of this audience seems to change Jesus’ priorities in the short term. The next thing Jesus does is head for the Gentile region east of the Sea of Galilee. In fact, Jesus never commends the faith of anyone in Israel, but only among foreigners (for instance, Matthew 8:10). 

So the Sidonian widow is not really an aberration. There are a number of reasons why this woman might find Israel’s God appealing:

  • Power: Baal, her people’s god of harvest, seems powerless to defeat Yahweh’s control over the rain.
  • Compassion: Israel’s God shows himself willing to hear the cry of widows and orphans, even foreign ones. As Exodus 22:21–23 says: “Do not mistreat or oppress a foreigner, for you were foreigners in Egypt. Do not take advantage of the widow or the fatherless. If you do and they cry out to me, I will certainly hear their cry.” 
  • Grace: She’s encountering grace on a daily basis. In spite of her sin, Elijah and his God are still providing for her rather than judging her.

There’s something about Sidon, this land in such close proximity to God’s people, struggling to hold onto its beliefs and stand against Israel’s religion. Spiritual sensitivity and hungry seekers keep popping up from that region throughout the Bible. Perhaps this is the ultimate answer to Jesus’ provocative question to the Jews: if there were lots of widows in Israel, why did God use a widow in Sidon? (Luke 4:25-26). 

But what if these aren’t one-off examples? What if the roots are connected? What if the widow is open to Yahweh because of David’s kindness to King Hiram? What if the woman with the demon-possessed daughter reaches out to Jesus because the story of that widow was embedded in her culture? A seed had been planted centuries before.

Something similar happened in Ethiopia. My wife Becky and I once had the opportunity to visit an Ethiopian Coptic Church in Israel. The priest we spoke with recalled the Church’s long history, pointing to a tapestry behind him depicting the Queen of Sheba’s visit to King Solomon (1 Ki 9). He then connected her story to a God-fearing Ethiopian who centuries later made his own pilgrimage to Jerusalem (Acts 8:26-40) and was baptized as a Jesus-follower. Both the Coptic Church and the Beta Israel community in that country have ancient roots.

In Wycliffe, we hear about these seeds all the time. Before a missionary sets out for the most distant place she can imagine, she needs to understand that God is there and working before she arrives. As I noted in my last post, there’s a second narrative: the purposes God is pursuing in the lives of the people before the missionary arrives. If you have any doubts, read Don Richardson’s 1981 classic, Eternity in Their Hearts

Faith can spring up in surprising contexts, standing out even more because of the darkness it’s set against. And dormant seeds that were sown centuries before can suddenly spring to life.

Do you have one of those stories, where you’ve seen God at work in unexpected places? I’d love to hear examples of God revealing a little spark of faith where we’d never expect it. Leave me a comment with your story.


Elijah series:

Unexpected testing

In my last post I looked at the remarkable sources of God’s provision for the prophet Elijah: God mobilizes scavengers, multiplies the assets of the poor and enables the marginalized to contribute. In doing so, God challenges the assumptions and mental blocks of the privileged and presumptive sources of provision—people like me. In fact, the story is told in a way I can identify with, because its focus is Elijah.

However, even as God is working his purposes in Elijah’s life, he’s also working in the widow’s life. He yearns for her to know him, and he’s using Elijah to bring about his purposes for her. The widow’s version of this story might read a lot differently, but there’s not much detail on which to build that retelling. So we try to read into the woman’s actions and the small handful of words captured in this story.

For instance, I would like to know if, when she enters the scene, she already has a spark of faith. Did God reveal in some way, prior to her meeting Elijah, his plan and calling to her? Even as she has lived on the edges of Israel’s border, has she been seeking Israel’s God? I also wonder how this widow responds to God’s daily miracle. 

In the previous act of this story (1 Ki 17:8-16), this widow took a leap of faith to trust the man of God. In this final act (1 Ki 17:17-24), she faces a crisis of faith. Just as things are starting to look hopeful, her son dies, and this setback seems to confirm her worst fears: that this God is just like all the others.9 For most people in her situation, there is no rags to riches outcome. She may even have been bracing for bad news because it figures, after the series of misfortunes she has experienced. Her words reveal her resentments and core beliefs: she asks Elijah what he has against her, but she’s really asking what God has against her. This loss might not be as painful if her heart hadn’t opened a bit.

It’s interesting that she raises the issue of sin (v18). Romans 5:13 tells us that “sin is not charged against anyone’s account where there is no law” (see also Rom 5:15); therefore, she’s not under the Hebrew Law. However, she understands in some way that she has missed the mark; she’s not in right standing with God. 

In that comment, she reveals that she understands sin has a price. But she also reveals that she was expecting grace, the primary characteristic of Yahweh she has personally experienced so far. In her pain and anger, she reveals a level of conviction and a fragile faith. 

Digging further, history tells us that worship of Baal sometimes required child sacrifice. Now the God of Israel seems to have taken her son. So again, is this God any different? It’s an enormous test of her faith, beyond what many fledgling believers could withstand. 

In fact, this is where Western believers sometimes get tripped up in their faith. Why would God allow this kind of trial when the woman’s faith is so fragile? It’s appalling to read stories like Jesus confronting the rich, young ruler and then watching him walk away (Matt 19:16-22) or offending his followers and chasing away those who weren’t serious (John 6:60-66). Why wouldn’t the God who doesn’t snuff out a smouldering wick or break a bent reed (Is 42:3) shelter this widow’s simple expression of faith until it’s strong enough to withstand a storm? What if her faith breaks? 

Elijah’s response suggests he has the same mindset; he even seems to be having his own crisis of faith. He doesn’t speak to the woman at all: no compassion expressed for her loss, but instead, a brusque, “Give me your son” and a march up the stairs to his room. His prayer reads to me as rather accusatory: God, did you bring tragedy on her? Did you kill the boy? Perhaps he expected his presence in her home to have brought her some kind of covering rather than make her life worse.

The passage says God listens—even to sullen, angry prayers like Elijah’s. Yet, for Elijah, the son’s resurrection was probably more of a relief than a moment of great joy. Maybe the woman’s faith will survive this crisis now.

Don’t miss the amazing faith in Elijah’s prayer; he asks God for something no one had ever dared to dream of before. Up until this moment, death was always the end. We get used to the New Testament stories, but this was the first recorded resurrection in the Bible.

Take a minute to read one of them: Luke 7:11-17. Jesus is traveling in Galilee when he encounters a funeral procession. The only son of a widow has passed away. Jesus raises the young man to life, then gives him to his mother. In this parallel story I see two insights into the Zarephath story.

First, Jesus responds with compassion and cares for the widow before addressing death. The contrast to Elijah’s bedside manner exposes where his response was lacking. Perhaps the difference is simply one of character and personality: Elijah was full of faith, but he was also a flawed individual who was prone to emotional ups and downs. But it also reveals power and knowledge: Jesus knew how the story would end, because even then he had authority over death, while Elijah was pleading for the impossible.

Second, we see the response of the witnesses: fear seizes them and they glorify God. They conclude two things: Jesus is a great prophet, and God has visited his people. The Sidonian widow concludes the same thing about Elijah and God:

  • She says, “Now I know.” She has experienced it herself.
  • She recognizes Elijah as a prophet—his words are truth, and in his mouth are the words of Yahweh.
  • When she identifies Elijah as a man of God, she refers to God as Elohim—the supreme God, the God of gods, the God over Baal.
  • The deeper message is a profession of her belief in God. She no longer refers to Yahweh as Elijah’s God, as she had in v12. God has visited her.

In God’s miraculous resurrection of her son, she encounters even greater power and even greater grace than she has been experiencing on a daily basis.

So why does God give her such an extreme test? I believe he knows that her faith can’t stay in its current condition. Elijah will soon be leaving, and she needs to be able to stand on her own feet. It is time for her to reach a decision about whether she and her household will believe, and serve the Lord (Josh 24:15).

I started this series researching to see how non-Westerners read this chapter. The North American approach would likely be to coddle such fragile faith by protecting the seedling, growing it carefully and guarding it from any real test in the early years. Many in the East and the South would say that’s unrealistic and point out that too much water or protection of a plant leads to shallow roots. Years later, when the plant is growing and should be mature, it is actually still fragile because of its roots. They would expect sacrifice, suffering and danger to come for a new believer, and rapid root growth is necessary for resilience.

We don’t know what happens with this woman after this. But her story can’t be looked at in isolation. Her line will now continue, and when seeds of faith are planted, you never know when they might pop back up again. We’ll look at that in our final post in the series.


References (intentionally seeking non-Western views)

9. Tse, Justin. “Elijah.” (Hong Kong) A Sermon for Revised Common Lectionary, Year C, Proper 5. Patheos. 27 July 2016. https://www.patheos.com/blogs/ecperson/2013/06/10/preaching-elijah/


Elijah series: