In the beginning, Grace to Grow was just a small circle and a shared hunger for change. I facilitated almost every session, holding space for every scar and every hope. I didn’t just know their names; I knew the rhythm of their tears. Those early days weren’t about a “program”, they were about a promise to be present, giving these women the ‘grace to grow’.
But growth is a double-edged sword. As we expanded, I did what leaders do: I started building systems to put me ‘out of a job’. My team developed a solid curriculum, we brought in facilitators, and ensured the “product” was excellent. Yet, as the organization climbed, I felt myself drifting and disconnected. It was as though I was watching from the balcony of administration instead of standing on the floor of transformation. I started to wonder: Am I still leading, or am I just managing a machine?
As I sat with the women at the end of their cohort, it hit me. The slides and systems are tools, but they aren’t the magic. The magic happens when I slow down, share my story and in that powerful moment of vulnerability, the women automatically are empowered to share their stories and experience a freedom they’ve never known before.
It is then that the masks crumble. They speak of marriages hanging by a thread, the crushing weight of shame, and the quiet fear that they are too broken for God’s plan.
I’ve realized that true leadership isn’t about outsourcing the soul to a system. It’s about refusing to let the vision get so big that you can no longer feel the heartbeat of the people. As we grow, I am intentionally carving out space to stay close. Because no matter how wide the reach, the human touch remains my most powerful tool.