Posted in Leadership

The Conversation Pause Required for Leaders

The ability of a leader to restrain him or herself from speaking, even for a second, can have a big impact.

And those who can’t hold off on speaking, on interrupting, we know who they are…

…They’re the premature leaners.

…They’re the person who leans into the conversation, not with an attentive ear, but rather, leaning in so they can get the jump on your last syllable.

They lean in so they can seize the next pause, so then they can wax eloquently. (Incidentally, these are the same people who honk their horns nanoseconds after the light has turned green.)

Even without uttering a word, this person, the premature leaner, is an interrupting listener. They interrupt with body language. They communicate through body language that they have something to say, and you should wrap up your talking.

Have you been around this person? I’ve worked with someone who was highly effective and efficient. But every time I talked with them, their body language made me feel rushed. Just the look on their face make me feel as if I should speed up my speaking so they could either talk themselves, or in some cases, just move on.

Often it’s taught to lean in during a conversation to show interest and engagement. But to the person talking, the difference between when you’re leaning in to show connection, and when you’re leaning in because you want to speak is clear.

And typically the interrupting listener’s first words in response to the talker will communicate they weren’t listening at all. They’ll say, “That’s a good idea, but…”.

Are you this person? Can you be this person at times?

I’m guilty of being the premature leaner. The interrupting listener. And the bad news is, if you’re wired to be a leader, you’ll have a propensity to do this too. But, there’s hope.

The difference between an active listener and interrupting listener is simply emotional intelligence. (You can read more about emotionally intelligent leaders and how we allow for “amygdala hijacks” to derail our leadership.) Some people are wired in a way that makes active listening easy, but regardless, emotional or social intelligence is mostly a learned skill…a skill that keeps you from being known as the “interrupter,” or the person who, when leaning in during a conversation, causes everyone at the meeting table to roll their eyes.

Learning this skill is a must for anyone who leads a team.

4 practical takeaways for curbing your conversation response time:

Step 1: Be aware of how you’re listening.

Consider how you’re responding when someone is done talking. You’re likely aware of other people who interrupt you, so learn to be aware of your own tendencies.

Step 2: Get comfortable with silence.

Or at least get comfortable with a pause. Even waiting a second or two can be helpful. And if what you plan to say is worth saying, you’ll still remember it after a few seconds. Sometimes I’m a “premature leaner” simply because I have a thought I want to express before it leaves my brain. But if it’s a worthy comment, it will be there a few seconds later.

Step 3: Establish a few go-to phrases that tells the other person you were listening.

Some options to make your own:

“That’s a good perspective; I haven’t thought of that.”

“Wow, you’ve put a lot of thought into this. Thanks for articulating it that way.”

And of course, repeating back what you heard is a core part of active listening: “I heard you say…”

After each of the responses you give, still pause. Give them even further opportunity to finish what they have to say.

Step 4: Pray about it.

When you look ahead at your day’s meetings or planned conversations, ask God to give you the ability to listen well and the ability to be patient.

The emotionally intelligent leader knows how to pause. He or she knows when leaning in is appropriate, and when instead, it communicates an attitude that says, “What I have to say is better than what you’re saying.”

Pause, lean back, and you’ll be a better leader for it.

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So You Think You’ve Arrived

When you’ve “arrived” in ministry, you begin to get a distorted view of self. A distorted view of self leads to an ineffective and unholy you, and then an ineffective ministry.

At a recent staff retreat, my friend and retreat speaker, Mark Bricker, using Paul Tripp’s A Dangerous Calling book as a framework, reminded us that “arriving” comes via:

  • Ministry knowledge
  • Ministry experience
  • Ministry success

Each of these is relative to the person measuring. But suffice it to say, in our own heads, we arrive faster than what reality likely is. (As a friend of mine says, “We’re legends in our own minds.”)

The greatest symptom of arriving is self-glory. My friend defined self-glory as worshipping yourself more than you worship God.

This sounds so sinful. And it is. But it’s not so sinful that we wouldn’t do it. Self-glory happens incrementally. It’s smalls steps that get us to this state of self-glorification.

And for a while, others may not even notice what’s happening within you. In fact, you may not even know it’s happening within you. And even if you or others are aware of this increasing self-glory, it may be deemed acceptable behavior. A.W. Tozer in his book, The Pursuit of God, wrote the sad, yet truthful sentiment:

“Promoting self under the guise of promoting Christ has become acceptable in church.”

Without guardrails, the path to self-glory is the natural path. (Remember, we’re fallen and depraved.) There are unintended consequences of ministry knowledge, experience, and success. It manifests in hubris, a lack of self-awareness, a sense of entitlement, or the feeling you’ve become indispensable. (I’ve written before about the danger of becoming or feeling indispensable to your church.)

My friend Mark provided self-diagnosing questions for self-glory, and I’ve listed several here:

  1. You worry too much about what other think about you.
  2. You care too little about what others think about you.
  3. You find yourself envying the success of others. (I’ve written previously about church leader jealousy.)
  4. You resist facing your sins, weaknesses, and failures.
  5. You lean toward the controlling side of ministry (having trouble letting go because you have an elevated view of self).

Slowing down the self-glory train—

Just because you’ve been doing ministry awhile and gained experience and knowledge, and maybe even had some successes, doesn’t mean you’re bound to self-glory. But, as we acknowledge that our natural human paths will lead us there, we have to find ways to slow down the self-glory trajectory. Here a few ways to combat self-glory:

  • Admit you haven’t arrived. My friend reminded our staff, “We’re all in the middle of our own sanctification.”
  • Give someone permission to speak frankly, and then ask them routinely, “How’s my self-glory meter?”
  • Talk to others who have had ministry success, yet been able to steer away from self-glory.
  • Memorize and put in your mindset Scriptures related to this (Here are a few: Romans 12:3, Philippians 2:3, 2 Corinthians 12:1-10, James 4:10).
  • Always try to get better. If you see your need to improve, it’s hard to be content with your previous “arrivals.”
  • Don’t take yourself so seriously. There is strength in self-deprecation and to admitting you’re a work in progress. (I’ve written before on the benefits of the occasional self-deprecation in leadership.)
  • Give it away…pass your experience and knowledge onto others who are in ministry, and when there is success, give that away too.

I hope we’re all vigilant in ensuring our self-glory doesn’t rise with our experience level.

 

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Doing the Scary Things of Leadership

Growing up in Tucson, we had an alley behind our house. On one side of the alley there was a cement wash for flood waters. On the other side, wooden fences to houses. During the day, this was a great area to play in. We’d ride bikes in the cement wash (even though we were told not to because of flooding [our parents forgot we lived in the desert]).

But in the alley was also our trash can. It was located about 100 feet down as we shared a big trash can with several neighbors. One of my chores was taking out the trash. I’d have to pack it up, drag it through our gravel back yard, and dispense in the alley’s trash can. This task was fine during the day, but at night, it was a long and scary 100 foot walk. And since I procrastinated, this was often a chore done in the dark.

I’d walk as calmly as possible lugging the trash bag over my shoulder while telling myself no one was out there to get me. But as soon as I heaved the trash bag in the can, fearing there might be someone out to get me, I’d sprint back to the house, sliding through the gate, and tossing gravel in multiple directions. Inside our fence, I’d always feel safe (except the times my Dad thought it was funny to hide just inside the fence to scare me).

So with that history, when my wife told me this week someone was outside our door, on the side of our house, in our trash can area I was a little alarmed. My first response was to be the “man of the house” and check it out. But then I thought, why would someone be in our trash? Why would they be that close to my house, my doors? It was unsettling to think about the person, who under dark’s cover, would be so close to my house.

Although reticent, acting brave, I said to my wife “I’ll check it out” (just like the walk down the alley in my childhood, I feigned bravery).

So in my pajama pants, out into the rain drizzle I went as my wife peered through the window blinds. Speaking loudly the universal accepted warning to intruders, I proclaimed, “I’ve called the Police and I’m armed with a baseball bat!”

I’ll leave what happened next for another blog, but I write all this to say: leaders don’t shy away from bad, hard, or scary work.

It’s our job to go out first. If something needs to be discovered, we need to discover it. If you’ve been given the role of a leader, go outside your office, and investigate the hard things. In a church setting, there’s so much at stake. And ignoring the possibility of dangerous things can literally have eternal consequences.

So whether you feign bravery, or even sprint back to safety after your discovery in the dark, check it out. Don’t send others to do your role as a leader (in my case, my wife is faster than me, so I did consider sending her to check out the trash can area).

Leaders lead.

Leaders check out the trash can in the darkness.

What’s the scary trash can for you? The hard conversation with someone on your team who’s not treating people kindly? The larger donor to the church who dictates how the church is run? The friend who is flirting with dangerous sins? Facing the reality that your church’s strategies aren’t working? A staff member who’s theology is wavering?

Even if you have to feign bravery, take the walk to your “trash can.”

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