
Making Space to Rejoice
Why sharing growth is part of faithful leadership
For a long time, it felt easier for me to share the hard parts of leadership than the good ones.
Challenges. Lessons learned the long way. Growth that came through discomfort.
There is value in that kind of honesty. It builds connection. It creates safety. It reminds people they are not alone.
But lately, I have been realizing there is another side of leadership we often rush past, especially as women.
When we do not slow down long enough to acknowledge progress, we do not just deprive ourselves of gratitude. We quietly signal that growth is not worth noticing. That success should be minimized. That taking up space, even briefly, is somehow inappropriate.
I have done this more times than I can count.
I have downplayed milestones. Softened language around wins. Added disclaimers where none were needed. I have spoken about achievements in half-sentences, as if naming them fully might make someone uncomfortable.
As women, many of us were taught to do this early. We learned to let others speak loudly about new deals, promotions, and wins while we stood back, quietly minimizing our own progress. Not because we lacked confidence, but because humility was confused with invisibility.
But leadership is not only about navigating what is difficult.
It is also about recognizing what is bearing fruit.
Scripture speaks to this balance clearly:
“Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.” (Romans 12:15)
That verse assumes something important. It assumes that joy will be visible. That growth will be named. That celebration is meant to be shared, not hidden.
We cannot rejoice with one another if no one is allowed to say, “This went well.”
We cannot build trust if progress is always kept quiet.
Allowing ourselves to acknowledge what has gone well does not make us arrogant. When done with humility, it creates space for shared joy, encouragement, and connection. It invites others into gratitude rather than competition.
For me, this has required a shift.
I am learning to pause long enough to notice progress and let it be seen. Not to impress. Not to posture. But to steward what has been built and to allow others the opportunity to rejoice alongside me.
This is still uncomfortable at times. Old patterns do not disappear overnight, and they tend to resurface when we are tired, stretched thin, or not paying close attention. But I am beginning to understand that minimizing growth does not protect humility. It limits it.
Before you move on from this reflection, here is a gentle question to sit with:
Where might I be minimizing growth that deserves to be acknowledged?
If you feel prompted this week, consider sharing a recent win or moment of progress. Not to boast, but to make space for community. To allow others to rejoice with you.
And if you choose to share it publicly, I would love to celebrate alongside you.
Growth does not need to be hidden to be humble. Sometimes, naming it is an act of trust.
