Becoming Her…

I used to think leadership was about being the loudest voice in the room. Or at least the one with the best PowerPoint slides. You know, the person who walks into a meeting and people instantly adjust their postures, like, “Yes m’am, we’re ready to change the world with you.” But somewhere between praying about my purpose and wondering if I’d ever find those high school socks I loved (may their faded, torn souls rest in peace), I stumbled into a more uncomfortable truth: leadership, the kind that changes people, not just positions, is a little less glamorous and a lot more God.

The Bible doesn’t open with someone climbing a corporate ladder. It opens with a Creator handing over authority to humanity , “fill the earth and subdue it,” He says in Genesis 1. But He wasn’t giving us the keys and saying, “Good luck.” That authority was supposed to flow through us, not from us. Then, like kids left unsupervised for two seconds, we broke stuff. We stepped out of alignment, and paradise wasn’t the only thing we lost. We lost our position. But here’s the good part: Jesus came to restore it.

Now 2 Corinthians 5 reminds us, “You are now Christ’s ambassadors.” And I’m over here trying to remember where I put my national ID card. But seriously, what does it mean to lead as an ambassador of heaven? (cue the vichapos) It means our leadership isn’t powered by charisma or clever Instagram quotes. It’s powered by alignment. Before I lead others, I have to agree with God about who He says I am, how He says I should live, and what He says is important.

I learned three life-altering truths over the past few weeks that have humbled me:

First, relevance comes through righteousness. Acts 1:8 says I’ll receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon me, and then I’ll be a witness. Not just a speaker. A witness. The credibility of my leadership flows from the consistency of my walk. You can’t be a light in public and a KPLC blackout in private.

Second, restoration flows through surrender. We don’t fight spiritual battles with spicy tweets or boardroom dominance. We fight by laying down our lives, not our opinions. I used to think I needed to “boss up” spiritually. Turns out, I needed to bow down. That’s where the real authority is.

Third, power is unlocked through partnership. Ephesians 1 describes God’s power as the same power that raised Jesus from the dead. Let that sink in. The catch? It doesn’t come through hustle. It comes through intimacy. The more room I give the Holy Spirit, the more clarity and power I walk in. That’s leadership; not controlling outcomes, but creating space for God to move. And as a recovering perfectionist, I can confirm: that was the hardest pill to swallow. An outcome I cannot control? What a risk?! Well… not anymore.

Because God has a funny way of cutting through the noise — even the noise in my head.

You know, I saw myself — busy, gifted, passionate… and out of alignment. Saying yes to God but skipping the quiet moments that keep me anchored. I realised I’d been treating worship like a task, not a lifeline. So I dropped the pressure to perform, and I pray: “Restore me Lord; not to who I was before, but to who You designed me to be.” I long for the version of me that I know exists, because God said so, but that I’ve never fully embodied; whole, rested, and consistently nourished in spirit.

Because the truth is this: you can’t pour powerfully if you’re not being poured into. You can’t represent heaven if you haven’t been spending time with the King. And you absolutely cannot lead people into restoration unless you yourself have been restored.

Leadership isn’t a badge, it’s a burden. But it’s also a blessing when carried right. It’s about being available. It’s about being known by God.

So if you’re reading this wondering where to start, start here: Don’t hustle for power. Host the Holy Spirit. And don’t just try to lead. Learn to follow first. Because leadership that reflects heaven doesn’t begin with ambition. It begins with alignment. And when you lead from there? You won’t just build projects. You’ll build people.

And maybe, just maybe , you’ll find those missing socks along the way.