That question won’t let me go.
It’s followed me into boardrooms, late-night strategy sessions, and moments of prayer when I’m reflecting on whether I’m truly showing up the way I want to.
Recently, someone said something that stunned me still. “ Orvin, you always talk about knowing your audience of significance. For me, that audience is you. My goal is to do what you’ve assigned me to do.”
I paused.
Not because I was flattered. But because I felt the weight of that statement.
It wasn’t about ego. It was about responsibility.
A reminder that people aren’t just following our direction, they’re aligning their energy, their hope, even their identity, with our leadership. Not just to get a job done. But to live into a relationship.
And in that moment, something clicked:
Every meaningful success I’ve had, every one, has come through helping someone else win.
It’s not flashy. It’s not complicated. But it’s real.
When I’ve been compassionate, present, and engaged in someone else’s journey, my own has expanded in ways I couldn’t have orchestrated.
And if you’re in leadership, especially if you’re entrusted with shaping culture across an enterprise,you know this:
Helping people grow isn’t a side mission.
It is the mission.
The temptation is to lead with pressure, to push people toward productivity. But here’s the cost:
If we’re not careful, we’ll win short-term battles while silently tearing away the trust that makes long-term victory possible.
I’ll never forget watching a young leader walk past a janitor like he didn’t exist, then light up with charm when a VP walked in.
That kind of inconsistency eventually shows.
People remember how you made them feel when you thought no one was watching.
That message hit even harder during a company gathering at my home. A member of our maintenance team pulled me aside and quietly said:
“This is the most I’ve ever engaged with the executives, in all my years at the bank.”
That floored me.
Not because I had failed in that moment, but because the system I was part of had allowed that kind of separation to go unaddressed for far too long.
And I was accountable to change it.
We can’t build community where dignity isn’t distributed.
Leadership is easy when you’ve got a title. But real leadership shows up when you don’t.
The best leaders influence when they’re not in charge.
Some lead through fear. Others through faith.
Fear-based leadership extracts life. It creates silence, not trust. Compliance, not creativity. People walk on eggshells. They doubt your praise. They retreat.
But faith-based leadership does something entirely different.
It inspires.
It stretches the imagination of others.
It gives people room to grow.
It believes that transformation is possible, even when performance is messy.
And that kind of leadership builds something lasting.
Here are three things I had to learn the hard way:
1. What you say matters.
Are your words a mirror or a magnifier? Do they build people up, or quietly chip away at their confidence?
2. How you say it matters.
You can challenge someone without crushing them. You can correct without shame. And if you ever feel the urge to embarrass someone publicly, ask yourself:
Are you teaching, or tearing?
3. When you say it matters.
Not every thought deserves airtime.
Timing can turn truth into wisdom, or into a weapon.
Let me share a story.
There’s someone in my broader business circle, smart, talented, hungry. But they have a blind spot: they treat people they see as
“beneath them” with indifference.
And I didn’t see it, because I had positional power.
They showed me one face, and everyone else another.
That’s not leadership.
That’s image management.
And eventually, it breaks down.
Too many people rise through the ranks by hitting metrics, but stay stuck in mid-level leadership because they never do the inner work.
To truly lead, to shape systems, steward culture, and leave something lasting, you need a different set of muscles:
I believe all gifts flow from God.
And I believe they are meant to be used, to uplift, serve, and ignite purpose in others.
Because the real work of leadership?
It’s not in performance reviews or quarterly goals.
It’s in the moments where you breathe life instead of extracting it.
Where you build culture instead of cracking the whip.
Where you lift people, even when no one’s watching.
Think about your last difficult conversation.
Because if you want to lead at the next level, you can’t just drive outcomes.
You have to steward hearts.
And that starts with what you say, how you say it, and when you choose to speak at all.
Let’s rise with purpose.
Let’s lead with life.