The Unexpected Path to Greatness

You're in the meeting.

The one where the decision needs to be made. The strategy needs to be set. The problem needs to be solved.

And everyone's looking at you.

Because you're the leader. You're supposed to have the answers. You're supposed to project confidence. You're supposed to know what to do.

So even though you're not sure, you speak with certainty. Even though you need input, you make pronouncements. Even though you're carrying doubts, you project strength.

Because admitting you don't know feels like disqualification.

Asking for help feels like weakness. Showing uncertainty feels like losing authority. Being vulnerable feels like losing respect.

So you lead from a place of pretending instead of a place of truth. And it's exhausting.

Then Jesus says something that wrecks the whole performance:

"Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 18:3-4)

The disciples just asked Him who's the greatest in the Kingdom. They expected a name. A strategy. A leadership profile.

Jesus pointed to a child.

Not a powerhouse leader. Not a brilliant strategist. Not someone with impressive credentials.

A kid who knows they need help. Who asks questions without shame. Who trusts without pretending to have it all figured out.

And He said that's what greatness actually looks like.

The Strength You Mistake for Weakness

Let's be specific about what "childlike" leadership doesn't mean.

It doesn't mean:

Being naive. Ignoring wisdom. Making reckless decisions. Abdicating responsibility. Being unprepared. Lacking discernment.

So what does it mean?

Watch an actual child for five minutes and you'll see what Jesus is pointing to.

They Know They Need Help

A five-year-old doesn't pretend they can reach the top shelf. They just ask. No shame. No performance. Just honest need.

As adults, especially leaders, we've learned to hide that.

"I've got this." "No problem." "I'll figure it out." Even when we don't, we can't, we won't.

Because admitting need feels like failure. But what if it's actually wisdom?

They Trust Without Cynicism

A child will take your hand and walk into the dark room because you said it's safe. They haven't learned to doubt everyone yet. They haven't built walls to protect themselves.

As leaders, we've been burned. So we trust no one.

We verify everything. We assume the worst. We protect ourselves from disappointment by never fully depending on anyone.

But what if that's making us brittle instead of strong?

They Ask Without Shame

"Why?" "How?" "Can you help me?" "I don't understand."

Children ask constantly because they're not embarrassed about what they don't know. They're curious, not self-conscious.

As leaders, we've learned to fake it.

We Google answers in secret. We nod like we understand when we don't. We avoid asking questions because it might expose that we're not the expert everyone thinks we are.

But what if asking is actually the path to growth?

They Show Their Emotions Honestly

Kids cry when they're hurt. They laugh when they're delighted. They get angry when they're frustrated. They show what they feel without filtering it through what they think they should feel.

As leaders, we've learned to manage perception.

We hide frustration behind professionalism. We mask disappointment with optimism. We perform confidence when we're actually terrified.

But what if that's slowly killing our authenticity?

What This Actually Looks Like in Leadership

Let me show you what childlike leadership looks like versus what we think strong leadership looks like.

The Decision You're Not Sure About

Performing strength: You make the call with false confidence. You present it as if you're certain. You shut down questions because doubt would undermine your authority. When it goes wrong, you double down rather than admit you weren't sure.

Childlike leadership: You say, "Here's what I'm thinking and why. But I'm not 100% certain. What am I missing? Where are the holes in this?" You make the decision with the input you have, but you're honest about the uncertainty.

The Mistake You Made

Performing strength: You deflect. You explain. You justify. You make it smaller than it was. You subtly shift blame. You protect your image at all costs.

Childlike leadership: You own it quickly and clearly. "I messed up. Here's what I'm learning. Here's how I'll do it differently." No performance. Just honesty.

The Feedback You Need to Hear

Performing strength: You defend yourself before they finish talking. You explain why they're wrong or don't understand the full context. You make them regret bringing it up.

Childlike leadership: You listen without defending. You ask clarifying questions. You actually receive what's helpful instead of protecting your ego. "Thank you for telling me. Help me understand more."

The Project That's Over Your Head

Performing strength: You fake it. You Google frantically. You work around the clock trying to figure it out alone. You're terrified someone will discover you're in over your head.

Childlike leadership: You ask for help. "I need support on this. Who has expertise here?" You're honest about your limits and lean on others' strengths. No shame. Just wisdom.

The Moment You're Overwhelmed

Performing strength: You push through. You act like you're fine. You keep all the plates spinning because admitting you're drowning feels like failure. You burn out quietly.

Childlike leadership: You're honest. "I'm at capacity. I need to delegate this or it's not going to be excellent." You ask for what you need instead of pretending you're superhuman.

See the difference?

One is exhausting. The other is sustainable. One builds walls. The other builds trust. One pretends. The other leads.

The Authority That Comes From Not Needing to Be Right

Here's what most leaders miss: children don't worry about authority. And that's why they actually have it.

They don't walk into rooms sizing people up. They don't care who's most important. They're not threatened by other people's strengths because they're not competing for position.

They operate from abundance, not scarcity.

Everything they have is given. They don't have to prove they deserve it. They just receive it and live from it.

What if you led that way?

What if your authority came from who you are, not what you prove? What if your leadership was rooted in security, not in performance? What if you could stop posturing and just show up?

Practically, that changes everything:

You can celebrate your team's wins without feeling threatened. Their success doesn't diminish you.

You can admit what you don't know without losing respect. Vulnerability actually builds trust.

You can ask for input without it undermining your authority. Collaboration strengthens leadership.

You can change your mind when you get new information. Adaptability is wisdom, not weakness.

You can lead from authenticity instead of appearance. And people follow authentic leaders farther than polished ones.

This isn't weak leadership. It's the strongest leadership there is.

Because it's grounded in something deeper than your ability to impress people.

The Question That Exposes Everything

Jesus asked who was the greatest. The disciples were thinking about who had the most impressive résumé, who'd performed best, who deserved the top spot.

Jesus showed them a child and asked a different question: Who's most honest about their need?

That's the question that exposes everything.

Because the moment you can't admit need, you stop growing. The moment you can't ask for help, you limit your capacity. The moment you have to pretend you have it all together, you lose the ability to be transformed.

Let me show you where this plays out:

The Leader Who Can't Be Taught

You've been leading for 20 years. You know your industry. You've earned your position. So when someone younger offers a perspective, you dismiss it. When someone suggests a different approach, you explain why you're right.

You stop learning because you can't admit there's more to learn. And your leadership plateaus.

The Entrepreneur Who Can't Delegate

You built this. You know it better than anyone. So you hold everything. You're the bottleneck. Your business can't scale because you can't trust anyone else to care like you care.

You limit your impact because you can't admit you need a team. And you burn out trying to be everything.

The Executive Who Can't Show Weakness

You've got the title. The team looks to you. So you never let them see you struggle. You never admit when you're uncertain. You never show that you're human.

And your team never really knows you. They respect your position, but they don't trust your character. Because you've never let them see it.

Pride is a sign of fear.

Fear that you won't be enough. Fear that you'll lose respect. Fear that being small will cost you something.

But childlike faith says: I already belong. So I don't have to pretend.

What Needs to Change This Week

Stop performing strength. Start leading from security.

Here's what that looks like practically:

Identify one area where you're pretending you have it figured out but you don't. The project. The relationship. The decision. The skill. Write it down. Who could you ask for help?

Ask for help this week without apologizing for needing it. Not "Sorry to bother you, but..." Just "I need your expertise on this. Can you help?" Practice receiving without shame.

Admit one thing you don't know in a meeting this week. Instead of nodding along or faking understanding, say "I don't know that. Can you explain?" Watch what happens to the trust in the room.

Show one real emotion instead of managing perception. If you're frustrated, say you're frustrated. If you're disappointed, don't mask it with false optimism. Be honest about what you're actually feeling.

Make one decision where you're honest about uncertainty instead of projecting false confidence. "Here's my thinking, but I'm not 100% sure. What are we missing?" Invite input instead of shutting it down.

This isn't about being less professional. It's about being more human. And people follow humans, not performances.

A Prayer for Leaders Exhausted from Pretending

Father,

I'm tired of pretending I have it all together.

I've been performing strength when I actually feel weak. Projecting confidence when I'm uncertain. Hiding my need for help because admitting it feels like disqualification.

But You're pointing to a child and calling that greatness. Someone who knows they need help. Who asks without shame. Who trusts without cynicism. Who shows up honestly instead of performing.

Help me become that.

Strip away the layers I've built to protect myself. The walls I've erected to hide my vulnerability. The performance I maintain to keep respect.

Teach me that asking for help is wisdom, not weakness. That admitting I don't know is growth, not failure. That showing my real self is courage, not liability.

Help me lead from security in who You say I am instead of anxiety about who others think I am.

Give me the freedom to be honest about my limits. The humility to receive input. The courage to show emotion. The wisdom to admit need.

I don't want to lead from performance. I want to lead from belonging.

I don't want to impress people with my strength. I want to serve them with my authenticity.

Let me remember: I'm already loved. I already belong. I don't have to prove anything.

Help me become like a child. And let that be the foundation of my leadership.

In Jesus' name,

Amen.

Reflection and Journal Questions

Don't rush these. Let them expose where you're performing instead of leading.

1. Where are you currently pretending you have it figured out when you actually don't? Be brutally specific. The project? The relationship? The decision? The skill? Write it down. What are you afraid will happen if you admit you need help?

2. Think about the last time someone offered you input or feedback. Did you receive it or defend yourself? What was your actual response? What does that reveal about whether you're teachable or protecting your image?

3. Who could you ask for help this week but won't because it feels like admitting weakness? Write their name. Write what you need help with. What's the real reason you're not asking? Is it wisdom or pride?

4. You're in a meeting and someone asks a question you don't know the answer to. Write two responses: one where you're performing strength, one where you're being childlike. Which one is closer to what you'd actually do? What needs to change?

5. Where are you limiting your growth or your business because you can't admit you need other people? What are you holding that you should delegate? What are you controlling that you should release? What's it costing you to pretend you can do it all?

6. If you truly led from "I already belong" instead of "I need to prove I belong," what would you do differently this week? Not theoretically. Specifically. What vulnerability would you show? What help would you ask for? What truth would you admit?

7. What's one specific action you'll take in the next 48 hours that reflects childlike leadership instead of performed strength? Write it down. The question you'll ask. The help you'll request. The uncertainty you'll admit. Then actually do it.

Take a moment. Breathe.

You don't have to perform. You just have to be honest.

Stop pretending. Start leading like someone who already belongs.