You Make More of a Difference Than You Think

Every now and then, I try to take stock. Just an honest look in the mirror. What have I been given? What am I growing into? What can I offer?

I’m not naturally comfortable answering the question, “What are you good at?” It feels like walking a narrow ridge between false humility and quiet pride. But as I move through this season of transition, I want to reflect with clarity—naming some of what’s true, even if imperfectly so.

So here’s a kind of personal inventory. Just a few things I think I do reasonably well—paired with the grace that makes them possible.

1. Seeing What Could Be

I’ve always had a sense for potential. Whether it’s in people, ideas, or quiet spaces waiting to come alive, I find myself asking: What could this become? I’m not necessarily the first to speak, but I’m often the one asking, “How can we help this person thrive?” or “What would make this actually work?”

It’s not that I see everything clearly—I’ve missed the mark more than once. But I think I’ve been shaped by a desire to look past the surface, to honour hidden gifts, and to build structures that invite others to grow.

2. Making Connections That Matter

I’m not the loudest voice in the room, but I often find myself helping the room make sense—bridging people, ideas, or organisations that otherwise operate in silos. Sometimes that looks like strategy. Sometimes it’s just making sure people feel seen and included.

The shadow side? I can carry too much in the name of keeping everyone connected. And I don’t always rest as I should.

3. Framing the Story

Words have always helped me find clarity. When things feel chaotic or disjointed, I tend to step back and ask, “What’s the story here?” I think this is part theological, part poetic, part practical. I want people to know not just what is happening but why it matters.

It doesn’t mean I always get it right. But I do feel a calling to help people trace the shape of meaning in the mess of real life.

4. Holding Tension Gently

If there’s one thing life and leadership have taught me, it’s that easy answers are rarely the best ones. I’ve learned to sit with ambiguity, to listen when things are uncomfortable, and to choose grace even when certainty would feel more satisfying.

I don’t always do this well—some tensions wear me down, and sometimes I speak too soon or wait too long. But I keep coming back to this posture: curious, hopeful, patient.

5. Encouraging with Integrity

I’m not big on flattery. But I do believe in encouragement that’s true. Over the years, I’ve found that people don’t just need correction or structure or instruction. They need someone to say, “I see this in you—and I believe it matters.” That’s something I try to give, because I’ve needed it myself.

Sometimes I don’t say it in time. Sometimes I assume people already know. But when I do say it—honestly, thoughtfully—it’s often received as a gift.

So that’s my list, for now. A few things I think I’ve been able to do, thanks to grace, good mentors, and plenty of mistakes along the way.

I’m mindful that these gifts have edges. I can overthink, over-function, and overlook my own limitations. I still wrestle with the gap between intention and impact. But I also believe this:
We don’t need to be perfect to be faithful.
We just need to be persistent with what we have, for the sake of others.

And I suppose… that’s something I’m trying to be good at too.