Leading Through Changing Seasons--Taking the Dock Out
This particular dock is meaningful. Over the course of four years of a running streak, I have gone often to it through all types of life trials and triumphs. When I was at my most unbalanced, I clung to the glistening reflection of the sun off the water in numb hope that somehow the light would filter back into my soul, and I might revive.
It is at that dock where I finally fell to my knees in humble prayer to finally release my will and ask God to take my burdens from me. To lift my feet and guide my steps into His will for me because I was not cutting it on my own. And boy, has my life changed since that moment!
When the dock is out for this LENGTHY winter season, I will no longer have a physical space to kneel, stand in awe of the waves, the birds flying over head, the creak of the boards in rhythmic beat to my breathing patterns.
But I do have its memory and the hope for the thaw. And I will explore new spaces because I will be made to do so. The shift in seasons comes both physically and in life changes. As leaders, we learn to embrace the shifts. To root ourselves not in places but in moments, people, and our faith for renewal. To engage with the joys that come with a change of scenery and condition.
I have never learned these lessons more profoundly than in this season of my leadership where I have no dock to go to for work. There is no building. Only my home office. And I am grateful for the lesson to embrace the excavation of a new season.
Today, I was supposed to sub for a local elementary principal. He cancelled yesterday, and I find it not surprising at all that I was given the gift of watching my dock removed instead. Yet another reminder for me to allow the season to grow me, to release the location, and to explore this new season without looking back so much.
What might you be clinging to in your own leadership, and how can you embrace the metaphorical release of your own dock?