Is a leader less because he is not always at his or her best? There is the external expectation, if not the internal, self-imposed one, to be your very best all the time. The leader is expected not only to succeed daily or weekly, but to exceed every previous expectation.  

As an example, for me it may be to preach a great sermon this weekend. And next weekend, to preach an even better one.  And so on. But what if it’s neither better nor my best? What if it’s the same or worse? What then? What if people aren’t wowed every time? Will I walk away and return feeling like a failure? 

What is a failure, anyway? Someone who is not always great? For many leaders failing means not being at their best all the time. 

We stumble over our presentation. We forget something in a meeting. We fail to meet a deadline. We lose out on an opportunity. There are moments of greatness, of knowing you “hit it out of the park”. But there are far more moments of…well, just moments. Nothing special, nothing spectacular, nothing to report. 

A leader cannot sustain a maximum level of output for an infinite amount of time. It’s no more possible than sustaining peak energy for endless miles or bench pressing countless reps with high intensity.

The reality is that you will slow down. Sometimes you won’t be excited. Sometimes you won’t be motivated. Sometimes you won’t have momentum. Sometimes you’ll only have enough energy to only do what needs to be done.  

No one who chases excellence strives to give less than their best. But sometimes mediocrity is your best. You know you can do better. But you run out of time. You can’t think clear. You’re not sleeping well. What’s happening with one of your children makes you want to cry. You’re spent.

Sometimes you don’t have all that it takes, because you don’t, and you can’t, always have all that it takes.  

There are times you have to say, “Ok. I have to make a decision. This is what I’ve got. It’s time to go.” You’ve still prepared to the best of your ability. You’ve still managed your time to the best of your ability. But it’s not going to be your best moment. You know it’s not, but it’s what you have to give.  

Sometimes we give all we have and all we have is only a little.

There are many leaders who won’t admit that there are days, if not entire seasons, of their leadership when they feel they could do better or be better. We don’t want to admit that we’re weak, that we struggle, that we’re not always happy, that we’re not always satisfied, that we’re not always at our best.

Maybe we believe that we’re a failure for feeling these things, that we should never feel them. But maybe we should instead frame our feelings within our humanity, within our limitations, within our constraints, within our weaknesses, within our imperfections. 

There is no perfect leader and there is no leader who leads perfect.

Our leadership falls and fails when we’re unwilling to admit we’re not always at our best. That’s pride. But our leadership can stand and succeed when we’re willing to accept we’re not always at our best. 

Humility that climbs the heights and reaches a “summit” of success has learned first to “live below” at the base—adapting to and accepting its limits, acknowledging its weakness, asking for help, admitting its lack of control, always remembering that it cannot summit neither everyday nor any day it chooses. 

A lot of days we will move forward a little in our leadership. Some days we will make it up half-way. Very few days will we make it to the top. But the highest cannot stand without the lowest. So the best days and moments cannot stand without some of the worst.