Some preachers are the kind of leaders who stride into a room, rally a team, draw a diagram on a whiteboard, and suddenly everyone is ready to charge the hill. Conversely, many ministers quietly wonder, “What hill are we charging, and can we talk about it over coffee instead?” The truth is not every leader is a visionary strategist. Some are teachers. Some are listeners. Some do their best work one conversation at a time. And that’s not a liability; it is a gift.

While strong vision-casting teambuilding leaders are a blessing to the church, not everyone can pull it off effectively. Thankfully, Scripture leaves plenty of room for men who lead in a low-key way. Paul tells Timothy to watch his life and teaching closely (1 Timothy 4:16). He tells the Thessalonians to encourage the fainthearted and help the weak (1 Thessalonians 5:14). Peter urges shepherds to lead “by example” rather than force (1 Peter 5:3). These passages sound far less like instructions for a corporate strategist and far more like the quiet, steady work of relational shepherding. Jesus himself shaped most of his leaders around tables, along roads, and in unhurried conversations. His most decisive leadership moments were rarely in committee meetings.

It took me a long time to realize that my gift in ministry was not being a dynamic, consensus-building, trend-setting leader. I could never stride into a room of elders and deacons and unveil a master plan for church goals over the next five years, with everyone walking out hyped up, shouting, “Let’s go!” And though I tried to be that tip-of-the-spear, dynamic, peak-performance, spiritual coach for many years, relief came only when I accepted that I was not that kind of leader. I am a teacher. I am a deliberate, reflective decision maker. I pray with people. I listen to their hurt. I talk to them about Jesus. I even believe slow is an acceptable speed.

And I am thankful God’s Word reminds us that this is enough. We each bring something different to the table. We each, “having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them” (Romans 12:6). Paul is not asking us to become gifted in everything, only to steward well what God has actually placed in our hands. That truth frees ministers and elders alike from the pressure of imitation and invites us to simply live out the gifts God has entrusted to us.

When you stop trying to force a round peg into a square hole and accept that your gifts are not about being the grand motivator, you free yourself from pretending. You can stop trying to manufacture energy you do not naturally possess. Instead, you lean into your strengths. Relational leaders influence not through programs but through presence. Their leadership is felt in the way they listen, in the thoughtful questions they ask, and in the gentle guidance they offer when someone is hurting or confused.

This does not mean you abdicate leadership, far from it. It simply means your leadership moves in smaller circles that eventually ripple outward. When you invest in one elder, one ministry leader, or one team member, you help shape a person who will shape others. That is precisely how Jesus worked. The kingdom grows yeast-like, quietly spreading through ordinary interactions that never make an organizational chart but always leave a mark.

You do not have to build an ecclesiastical administrative machine to bless the church. You can bless it by being exactly who God made you to be. A teacher who steadies people. A shepherd who knows the flock by name. A presence that brings peace. A preacher who speaks the truth in love. Leadership is not always loud. Sometimes it sounds like a calm voice saying, “Let’s walk together.” And in the kingdom of God, that is more than enough.