I Won’t Ask You …

The last time I moved into a new house, it was stressful. Actually, that’s not the most accurate statement—every time I’ve moved, it has been stressful!

There are so many decisions that come with moving. Finding a new home. Making an offer. Going through the closing process. Choosing the day to move. Packing—so much packing. And then unpacking and trying to settle into a new space.

It’s a lot.

During the last move, I found myself face-to-face with a leadership lesson.

I had packed and organized everything, and then the movers arrived. It was clear they knew what they were doing. They walked through the house, talked through a plan, explained how they would approach it, and then got to work.

And just like that, I was standing in an empty kitchen, not at all sure of my role.

As I watched them carry boxes out the door, I felt the urge to jump in. There were other boxes I could have moved closer to the door. I could have made it easier on them.

Part of me thought, You should help. But I paused. I questioned the assumption underneath my urge to help. Just because I could help, did that mean I should help?

We’ve all heard the phrase, “Leaders shouldn’t ask someone to do something they aren’t willing to do themselves.” And in this moment, I found myself thinking about those words.

The truth was, they didn’t need or want my help. They needed me to get out of the way and trust them to do what they were there to do.

I realized something about that cliché: it’s not wrong, but it is incomplete.

Leadership isn’t about proving you can do everything. Sometimes it’s about respecting what isn’t yours to do.

I had done my part. I packed the boxes. I labeled them. I stacked them neatly. But once the movers arrived, my role shifted. 

I didn’t need to do their job to respect what they were doing. I needed to understand their role well enough to support them and stay out of their way. I think this is where that phrase often leads us astray.

When we hold on to the idea that we should be willing to do everything, it can lead us to actually doing everything.

And when that happens, we don’t just take tasks off someone’s plate. We also take away the opportunity for them to contribute, take ownership, and grow into what they’re capable of. Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should.

There are people on our teams who can do certain things better than we can. But if we keep stepping in, they don’t get the chance to show us what they can do.

That moving team didn’t need me to prove I could carry a box. They needed the space to do their work well, and they needed me to do the things that only I could do. Answer questions, make decisions, and ensure things were going as planned. If I had jumped in to carry boxes, I would have been doing work I could do, while neglecting the work I was responsible for.

I see this happen all the time in leadership. We fill our time with things we’re capable of doing, and in the process, we drift away from the things we’re responsible for.

This approach to leadership looks like humility on the outside but feels like exhaustion on the inside. Humility is not found in doing everything. It’s found in knowing your role and honoring others' roles.

I don’t think we need to throw away that leadership cliché, but I do think it needs some editing. Instead of saying, “I won’t ask someone to do something I wouldn’t do…” what if we said, “I won’t ask someone to do something that I’m not willing to understand, support, and value.”

That shift still requires our presence, but it leaves room for people to bring their strengths into the work.

Leadership isn’t always a test of willingness; often it’s a test of discernment. And sometimes, the most important thing a leader can do is recognize when their role isn’t to step in, but to step back.

Even if that means standing in the kitchen, watching the boxes go out the door, and choosing not to pick one up.