Hillary Clinton, Donald Trump, Ryan Lochte, and Omran Daqneesh all have something in common from the past couple of weeks. They all had a measure of influence on us. They all began, sustained, or were caught in a leadership narrative.
We live in a narrative culture. We crave story. We are drawn to the heroic, moved by the tragic, tantalized by the scandalous, teased by the comical, irked by the ridiculous . . . and frustrated and angered by the fraudulent. The protagonist and the plot draw us in. The hero and the villain help us to choose and pull for one side or the other. It has been proven that the stories we long for most are those that redeem or reinvent.
Hillary Clinton can’t escape “Email Gate” nor the stench of The Clinton Foundation. This week it is Colin Powell’s fault that she maintained that pesky server. The Donald can’t shake why he won’t reveal his tax returns . . . or why he donated to The Clinton Foundation. Ryan Lochte’s inconvenient truth will cost him a bundle in lost endorsements and reputation. And little Omran Daqneesh just wants safety and stability. He longs for a place to play free from the danger that other leader’s reign down. He too is a leader—because this week he carries influence. His survival and ubiquitous presence on the cover of every news outlet tells a story. His narrative is the most truthful. His is one we can trust. His picture of influence stirs us with compassion and makes us angry. We want better for him . . . and we want those responsible for his plight to pay. Some leader told a story that began a conflict that wreaked havoc on a little boy’s life.
Leaders always tell a story. They should. We need leaders to guide, provide, and protect. We need leaders to instill hope and confidence. These efforts begin with vision. They begin with a good story . . . one we can believe in. Hillary, Donald, and Ryan all failed that task this past week.
What influence do you have? What kind of story are you telling? You may think your actions don’t matter . . . that your words don’t carry weight. Your leadership role is too nebulous, too mundane, too small. This week, focus on telling us a story that has one or all of these three traits:
Redemption: To buy back. To free from captivity.
We long for justice.
We need leaders who can bring redemption . . . who can lead others into redemptive acts and restore a sense of dignity.
What needs redeeming in your sphere of influence this week?
Who can you bring a measure of freedom to through your leadership?
How will you communicate it to those around you?
Reinvention: To make new. To make over.
We long for beauty and purpose.
Do you ever wonder why “make-over” shows are so popular?
We want to see the ugly and mundane become beautiful.
We want to see the discarded become purposeful again.
What needs to be reinvented in your sphere of influence this week?
Who can you make better this week . . . as a person or at their job?
How will you communicate it to those who can join with you?
Hope: The confident expectation of something better.
We long for righteousness.
No more untruths or half-truths.
No more blaming “right wing conspiracies” or something being “rigged.”
Who needs a healthy dose of hope around you this week?
Will you be the one to dispense it?
Ultimately we want noble . . . we want something greater than the mundane around us. We want truth. We long for beauty and righteousness. We want a better story.
Tell a better story of redemption, reinvention, and hope!
Tell a better story!
Followers deserve that.
The greatest story declares this: In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us . . .