What’s your exit strategy?

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about time. Why do some periods of our lives seem to drag on forever with no discernible highs or lows, while other seasons drive forward with purpose and dynamic change? What makes our internal clock slow down or speed up, or our enthusiasm for bold risks ebb or flow? I think a big part of it, for most of us, is our level of willingness to admit that everything, someday, must come to an end. As the writer of Ecclesiastes says, for every season of our lives there is not only a purpose, but a birth and a death, a beginning and an end. In general, we are quick to embrace the start of new things, new life, new ideas, and new opportunities. But many of us are hesitant to reflect too long on our final goodbye, whether that be stepping out of job, ending a project, saying adios to a friend, or accepting our own transition into death. As a culture we talk a lot about making a good first impression, taking first steps, launching new ideas, and bravely stepping up. But we spend far less time talking about what it looks like to know when your season is done, how to graciously step aside, or how to lovingly say farewell. The difference between those seasons when we are simply treading water and those where we are making waves is our willingness to accept that all things must eventually come to an end.

In my leadership cohorts this month we’ve been talking about succession planning. When you hear that phrase, most people think primarily of recruiting the person who will come after us. While finding our replacement is certainly a big part of succession planning, it’s far more than that. At its heart, a succession plan helps us make the most of the time we have because it forces us to think about the end. The truth is, we work harder, with a higher tempo, greater purpose, and passionate intensity when we know our days of leadership influence are numbered. It removes hesitation and makes us appreciate the big and small wins, as well as keeping failures in perspective. I know this is true in my own leadership journey. I like to think I’m a consistent leader in all the places and organizations I serve. Yet, I can see my own divergent approaches when I reflect on the way I’ve led in two different organizations where my end perspective varied. In the first, I knew my leadership time would end after three years. There was no question - at that time we would move to a new state and hanging around would be impossible. For those three years, I pushed my agenda and team to higher and higher levels, always seeking new ideas, greater influence, and bigger impact.  As a team, we had an urgency of purpose, and at the same time, had no choice but to intentionally and openly draw more people into our team, knowing that one of them would eventually need to replace us. As a leader serving with the end in mind, I was motivated to think boldly and take risks, use my voice, and keep my eyes on the mission. There was simply no margin to get lax. My passion and sense of purpose stayed high. Once my replacement was identified, I gently trained and guided her so that when it was time to officially hand over responsibility, I did so whole-heartedly, content with what we had accomplished.

In contrast, I have also led a team where my service end date was unclear. The finish line continued to move, spurred on by teammates who were happy to let my leadership linger and my own desire to hold on past when I probably should have let go. Over the course of more than seven years, the time dragged. My passion waned. Our team impact and sense of purpose faded. There was no urgency, no new ideas, nothing to work towards. We were standing still.  That is until I decided that enough was enough and it was time to find my replacement. Once I did and we set a transition date, my own leadership motivation changed as I focused on the end game. I now had a leadership countdown both on paper and in my head, reminding me that it was time to get back to work and make an impact before it was too late. I was the same leader in both of those scenarios, but the experience was so different for one big reason - the acknowledgment of the eventual end to this season.  

I’ve come to fully embrace that when it comes to almost everything in life, my exit is just as important as my entrance. In leadership, others can not step up until I step aside. To every leadership opportunity there is a season; a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to build and a time to tear down. It’s a lesson I want to carry into every aspect of my life. As I type this, an old friend of mine is preparing her heart for the death of her husband. They are young and it’s a cancer-ridden tragedy that breaks my heart.  In a matter of days, maybe even hours, she and her children will be immersed in grief and a new season of her life as a widow will begin. Yet following her family’s journey, especially these past few weeks as complications compounded and death became inevitable, her husband, and she, have become shining examples of how embracing that every season has an end, even the season of our lives, frees us to make the most of the time we have.  I have no doubt that her new season will be difficult and full of tears, but the impact her family is having now, even in these last hours, on the hospital staff and long-distance friends alike, is remarkable. Her husband’s death will mark the end of a season of God’s love in motion, his Truth spoken boldly, and the eternal hope found only in Jesus offered easily to all who came in contact with them. Her husband is living out a succession plan for living, making the most of his time, and finishing well. I have no doubt that when it is time for him to step from one world into the next, he will do it with grace and content with the life he has lived, though it is shorter than we would have liked.   

Bottom line: we should all be reminded that learning to graciously step down is just as important as boldly stepping up. Everything ends someday. We don’t need to fear it, or avoid it, or pretend like we can somehow stay in power or live forever. That actually makes us less inclined to make the most of our time. Instead, let’s embrace Ecclesiastes 3:1 - There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven.