Marcus built his reputation on certainty. As CEO of a mid-sized manufacturing firm, he prided himself on having answers before questions were asked. His office door was always closed. People just knocked softly and waited.

When the third-quarter numbers came in showing a 22% revenue decline, Marcus called an all-hands meeting. Along with the same confident posture that had carried him through two decades of leadership, he had his talking points ready: market volatility, temporary headwinds, strategic pivots already in motion.

Halfway through his presentation, Sarah from operations mustered up some courage and raised her hand, "Marcus, are we going to be okay?"

He opened his mouth to deliver reassurance, but something stopped him. Maybe it was the way she asked in a non-threatening way, but genuinely needing to know. Maybe it was the exhaustion he'd been hiding for months. Maybe it was seeing his own fear reflected in thirty faces.

He paused and finally said, "I don't know."

The room went silent.

"I've been up every night running scenarios," he continued, as he abandoned his slides. "I've made three decisions this quarter that I'd take back if I could. And honestly, I'm scared we've been too slow to adapt."

He expected panic. Instead, David from sales spoke up: "The supply chain issue, I flagged that eight months ago, but I thought maybe you had a plan I wasn't seeing."

"I didn't," Marcus admitted. "And honestly, I should have listened."

The meeting ran nearly ninety minutes. The floodgates had opened, and people shared observations they'd been keeping to themselves, assuming leadership already knew: the customer complaints that were piling up, the competitor quietly stealing contracts, and the morale issues on the production floor.

Marcus took notes.

Over the next three months, Marcus instituted "glass door Tuesdays" where anyone could add items to his calendar, and he kept his door literally propped open. The conversations were often uncomfortable. He found himself saying "I don't know" and "I made a mistake" more times than in his entire career combined.

The solutions came from unexpected places: the warehouse supervisor redesigned the supply chain, an entry-level analyst spotted the market opportunity Marcus had missed, and the operations team found $400K in efficiency improvements when Marcus asked them what they'd do if it were their company.

By year-end, revenue stabilized. But more importantly, something had shifted. People stopped waiting for Marcus to have all the answers. They brought him problems and ideas in equal measure.

Marcus's door stayed open, not because he had nothing to hide, but because he'd learned that leadership wasn't about having no weaknesses, it was about being strong enough to show them and inviting others in to help.

And on the door frame, someone had taped a small sign: "We're figuring this out together."

When leaders show vulnerability, they create space for teams to ask hard questions and contribute meaningful solutions, and the result benefits everyone.

Whether it be in your personal relationships, work, or faith community, how can you lead vulnerably this week to open doors for honest conversations and invite bold solutions?

Leaders often assume that logic and data drive change, but people rarely change because of information alone. They change and transform because they’re moved.
Stories and fables don’t replace truth. Instead, they translate it and cement it into our hearts, which allows that truth to transform us into something greater.

When insight and ideas are told through story, it becomes portable, memorable, and repeatable. That’s why great leaders don’t just explain, they illustrate and lead through story.

I experienced this first-hand recently while reading Patrick Lencioni’s book Getting NAKED: A business fable about shedding the three fears that sabotage client loyalty. The fictional story presented by Lencioni had me hooked. I was so invested in the story and how to overcome the three fears that I almost read the entire book in one sitting.

Not only can I tell you the three fears that sabotage client loyalty, but I can vividly picture in my mind the story of how Jack Bauer (the main character) overcame those fears to win clients and provide lasting value. Now, I too have a very clear roadmap of how I can earn client trust and help them grow, thanks to a short story.

If you want to continue to become transformed by leadership and organizational truths through the power of fables, I invite you to join me each Friday!