The Ones Who Showed Me the Way

When I think back over the course of my life—school, work, marriage, parenting, church life—certain people stand out. Not because they had fancy titles or public recognition, but because they took the time to invest in me. They listened. They taught. They offered quiet encouragement when I needed it and honest feedback when I was ready for it.

Some were teachers. Some were coworkers. A few were longtime members of the church who had seen more than I had and were willing to share what they learned. None of them called themselves “mentors,” but that is exactly what they were.

Looking back, I see just how important those people were in shaping who I am and how I lead today.

Mentorship Doesn’t Always Look Formal

In today’s world, we sometimes overthink mentorship. We imagine it as a structured program or an assigned relationship with set goals and check-ins. And while there is certainly value in that approach, I’ve found that some of the most meaningful mentorship happens informally.

It might be a hallway conversation after a staff meeting. It might be someone pulling you aside after church to say, “I’ve been there too.” It might be watching how someone handles stress or treats others and thinking, “That’s the kind of person I want to be.”

These moments don’t always come with a name tag or a calendar invite, but they matter. They stay with you. And they teach you lessons that books and training sessions can’t always offer.

Learning Through Presence

One of the greatest mentors I ever had was a quiet man who served in a leadership role at a former workplace. He wasn’t flashy or loud, but he was present, thoughtful, and consistent. I watched how he treated people with respect, how he stayed calm under pressure, and how he listened more than he spoke.

He never sat me down and said, “Here’s how to lead,” but I learned more from watching him than I ever could have from a textbook. His actions taught me that real leadership is rooted in character, not charisma.

That lesson has stuck with me throughout my work at St. John’s. Whether I’m meeting with staff or walking the building before a big event, I try to bring that same steady presence to what I do.

Mentorship in the Church

Churches are full of opportunities for mentorship, even if we don’t always call it that. I’ve seen it in how older members guide younger volunteers, how experienced clergy support new team members, and how lifelong congregants welcome newcomers with open arms.

Ministry isn’t just about sermons and services. It’s also about relationship and example. It’s about passing on wisdom in quiet, personal ways.

At St. John’s, I’ve been blessed to both receive and offer that kind of mentorship. Sometimes it’s a young staff member asking for advice on a tricky situation. Other times it’s a volunteer wondering how to take on a new role. I don’t always have the answers, but I try to offer what others once offered me—time, attention, and encouragement.

Paying It Forward

There comes a point when you realize it’s your turn to give back. You’ve gathered experience, you’ve made a few mistakes, and you’ve learned what matters. Now it’s time to pass that on.

I try to keep this in mind in both my professional and personal life. Whether it’s walking alongside a colleague who is still finding their way or offering guidance to a young person navigating career choices, I remind myself that someone once did this for me.

The goal isn’t to tell others what to do. It’s to help them discover who they are and what they’re capable of. It’s to be a sounding board, a support system, and sometimes a gentle nudge in the right direction.

And let’s be honest—mentorship is a two-way street. I’ve learned just as much from the people I’ve mentored as I have from those who mentored me. They challenge me to stay open, keep learning, and stay grounded.

Legacy in the Small Things

Not all legacies are built through big achievements. Some are built through small, repeated acts of faithfulness. Showing up. Following through. Taking time for others. Speaking the truth in love. That’s the kind of legacy I want to leave behind.

I may never write a book or lead a movement, but if someone remembers me as the person who believed in them, who helped them take a next step or stay the course, that will be enough.

In a world that often celebrates bold moves and loud voices, I think we sometimes forget the power of quiet leadership and steady mentorship. But in the church, and in life, that quiet presence can make all the difference.

Still Learning, Still Sharing

Even now, after years in leadership, I still need mentors. I still need people who help me think clearly, remind me to stay grounded, and encourage me to keep growing. That never stops.

And I hope I continue to be that kind of person for others. Not because I have all the answers, but because I believe that everybody benefits when we take time to walk alongside each other.

So here’s to the mentors who shaped us, the people we are mentoring now, and the small daily ways we pass on what we’ve been given.

May we keep the chain going, with humility, gratitude, and a heart for service.