Self-Reliance Is Overrated: The Hard Truth About Love and Surrender

Once upon a time, in a world of overflowing calendars and endless deadlines, I stumbled upon a realization that leadership — true, meaningful leadership — isn’t about being the loudest voice in the room or the person with the most impressive to-do list. No, it’s about something far deeper and, dare I say, messier. The foundation of leadership is love. Not the fluffy, feel-good kind of love you see in romantic comedies, but a gritty, roll-up-your-sleeves, heart-on-the-line kind of love. Love for God, love for others, and love for the unique purpose He has planted in each of us.

Now, this kind of love doesn’t just float in like a fairy godmother granting wishes. It asks tough questions. Who are you when no one is watching? That’s the one that got me. You see, character — the essence of who we are — shines most when there’s no audience, no applause, and no one to catch us if we stumble. I’ve learned that my moments of private anxiety, where I scramble to fix everything on my own, reveal my character in ways I’d rather not admit. In those moments, I forget to lean on the ultimate Source of solutions and strength. Worship, though, has become my reset button. It’s like turning off a noisy fan you didn’t realize was on. Suddenly, the peace of trusting God rushes in, reminding me that I don’t have to be enough because He already is.

But let’s talk about the other side of this coin: skills. I’m pretty good at getting things done — at least, that’s what my track record says. But this journey has taught me that it’s not just about the what; it’s about the how. Excellence in leadership is as much about the process as it is about the product. When I approach my work with diligence and integrity, relying on God rather than my own strength, I find purpose and energy that don’t leave me drained. Leadership, it turns out, isn’t about perfection. It’s about faithfulness, even in the quiet, unseen moments.

And then there’s the question of why. What drives you? If you’d asked me a while back, I’d have said “service.” But here’s the thing: my actions often tell a different story. Somewhere between the spreadsheets and the strategy meetings, I started chasing a need to prove myself. It’s like running on a treadmill and realizing too late that the speed is cranked up way too high. The harder I tried to achieve, the further I drifted from the joy of why I started in the first place.

Surrender — that was the turning point. But let me tell you Maina, surrender isn’t some poetic, Instagram-worthy moment. It’s messy. For me, it looked like letting go of my not-so-perfect health. I’d been carrying that weight as though my worrying alone could make me better. Then there’s the suitcase of past hurts I’d been dragging around, particularly from my time in Asia. Racism, isolation, rejection — they taught me to rely on myself, but they also left me weary and wary. Slowly, I’m learning to hand those over to God. It’s not about giving up; it’s about giving over. And in that surrender, I can find a peace that feels like unclenching a fist that’s been tight for too long.

But leadership isn’t just about looking inward; it’s about looking forward. Vision — the ability to see beyond today and imagine what could be — requires faith. For too long, my vision was tethered to my resources. If I didn’t have it in hand, I didn’t dream it. But what I’m discovering is that true vision isn’t about what I can do. It’s about what God can do through me. And here’s the kicker: a vision isn’t worth much if it can’t inspire others to come along for the ride. In the past, I’ve been guilty of fumbling this part. Sometimes I’ve been too vague, other times too self-focused. This journey is teaching me to simplify, to focus on the impact rather than the mechanics. It’s about showing people why the vision matters — not just to me but to them, to all of us. And don’t underestimate the power of a heartfelt “thank you.” Gratitude has a way of turning a good idea into a shared mission.

Leadership, I’ve realized, isn’t about standing alone at the top of the mountain, waving a flag. It’s about building bridges and inviting others to cross with you. It’s about recognizing that every step — whether it’s big or small, messy or graceful — is part of a larger story God is writing.

So, here’s my question to you: what’s driving you? What’s holding you back? And more importantly, what are you going to do about it? Leadership isn’t a destination; it’s a journey. It’s about reflecting, refining, and, yes, sometimes resting. The lessons are in the doing, in the loving, and in the letting go.

The good news? You don’t have to have it all figured out. Start where you are. Lead with love, serve with purpose, and dream with faith. The rest will fall into place.

Source: Mark 12:30. It’s not a flashy piece of advice or a slogan designed to sell books. It’s simple, clear, and a bit of a mic drop: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength.” Now, if that doesn’t sound like a spiritual fitness challenge, I don’t know what does. All your heart? All your soul? All your mind? And — wait for it — all your strength? That’s a lot of “all.” I mean, I can barely manage to give my full attention to a single email before my brain decides it’s time to think about snacks. But here’s the thing: that verse isn’t just a lofty idea — it’s a blueprint for leadership that goes deeper than any TED Talk ever could.

And that, my friends, is leadership worth pursuing. And spoiler alert: it’s not for the faint of heart.