Soul in Leadership?

I have to admit I bought the book, Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership by Ruth Haley Barton, almost three years ago at a Pastor's Conference and have had a difficult time taking it off my shelf. I suppose the whole Willow Creek model has tainted my perspective on anyone that has come from that movement. I have also met Barton in the past at a small gathering of CCO staff and wasn't impressed. She fit exactly what I thought the mold might look like. Through stage right...judgment and projection.

I have been reading her book on my study leave, thinking I might gain some insight on how to supervise the program staff at my church better and lo and behold, the book actually has some depth. It is primarily about solitude. I suppose I didn't expect anyone from such a large, non-denominational church movement to know anything about the spiritual disciplines or to care, as a matter of fact. I suppose I see such movements as too flashy, too big, too production-oriented. Barton though hits it spot on (as far as I have gotten in the pages) talking about leading from within (to borrow a phrase from Parker Palmer) and particularly how our inner journey is the most important thing we should focus on in leading others. At the end of each chapter she has been quoting from "Guerrillas of Grace" and she also provides spiritual exercises to help one "be still". All of this is woven into the story of Moses and his calling. I particularly have enjoyed the section that talks about vocation which mirrors The Path by Laurie Beth Jones.

Yet, how one should embody such "soul" in daily life is still to be determined. It seems that no matter how much I put my shoulder to the wind and walk with determination, wildly chanting, "I will not become stressed, I will remain deep", the wind, or rather the hurricane, always wins. Somehow the torrent of "normal life" has a way of overpowering. Even when I feel centered on a conscious level, I know I am sub-consciously fighting as I lie awake in bed staring at the ceiling beckoning sleep to come. Perhaps, therein lies the problem, the "I's" in the above paragraph versus the depth of God's call upon our lives. The size of the torrential rain is not the indicator of storm damage on our selves but, whether one has a child's umbrella for protection or is watching the rain through the window of a temperature-controlled charter bus. When God calls, being equipped is God's problem not ours. What we have to allow is a space for solitude--deep breaths, pauses, shut-down buttons. These moments are the moments of equipping--the strengthening of our souls.