USE YOUR VOICE TO CHALLENGE

Leadership Lessons

Sep 28

The full video of this teaching is available at the bottom of this post and can also be accessed directly at this link.

TWO WOMEN VS. A VOLCANO

My wife, Mari, thought to herself, I can’t believe I made it to Base Camp on Cotopaxi Volcano in Ecuador. That was just a couple of weeks ago, when, at 58 years old, she finished the climb from the parking lot to Base Camp.

There is nowhere in the U.S. that can really compare equally to this climb. Sure, it’s about as steep and demanding as Angel’s Landing in Utah or Half Dome in Yosemite. But those top out around 5,400 feet.

Mari and our friend Desiree did this at 16,000 feet, where the oxygen (11.5% volume) is nearly half of what it is back home in Ohio (21%).

To add to the difficulty, volcanic scree—loose rock and gravel that shifts like ball bearings under your boots—steals almost half the effort of every step. Take a half step up. Slide back. Do it again.

It was a monumental physical, mental, and emotional feat—a personal best Mari had never even considered attempting. But we’ll come back to that in a few moments.

When Mari, Desiree, my Ecuadorian friend Juan Carlos, and I arrived at the refuge (our goal for the day), I noticed Desiree was exhausted but still had some energy left. So I asked if she wanted to try climbing to the glacier line, about another 800 feet of altitude. I told her it would probably take two to three hours. She smiled wearily and said, “I’m beat. But I’m here, and I’ve got a little more in me. I might as well try.”

So Desiree and I double-checked our daypacks for water and fuel: nuts, chocolate, and two oranges. We made sure nothing was exposed because the sun at the equator burns with the strongest UV rays on Earth. We put on our GORE-TEX shells to protect against the cold wind and then began our unplanned portion of the climb.

The volcano felt alive, pushing against us, making us earn every inch of ground. Breathing was even harder now, each inhale thin, each exhale heavy.

After three more hours of climbing, we made it as far as Desiree could go—16,800 feet, well above the glacier line, which had become our impromptu goal. By then, she was spent. The thin air pressed in, leaving her lightheaded and on edge. Overwhelmed by the lack of oxygen, the raw beauty of the volcano, and the pride of making it this far, the emotion broke through. Tears flowed with quiet sobs, not from weakness, but from the crushing mix of fatigue, frustration, and the altitude’s invisible weight.

While she was crying, I did the math and told Desiree that if she could summon the strength and willpower to climb just 300 more feet, she would surpass her toughest climb and highest altitude in Peru back in 2023. She nodded, pushed through, and succeeded—reaching 17,106 feet on Cotopaxi (the summit stands at 19,347 feet).

WHY WOULD THEY DO THIS?

How did two middle-aged women from the Midwest end up on the side of an Ecuadorian volcano, pushing themselves to their hardest physical accomplishment and setting personal records?

The year before, I had taken two of my friends to summit three volcanoes in Ecuador. When I returned, Mari and Desiree said, “We want to go to Ecuador and see those places you climbed in person.” And here’s the point: the seed for this adventure was planted when they saw people they knew well enjoying a journey they had never taken.

That leads me to the leadership lessons I carried away from this journey with Mari and Desiree.

ADVENTURE IS CONTAGIOUS

They had seen my photos from previous trips and heard the stories of beauty and vastness that no camera lens can capture.

They were gripped by the desire to see what I had seen.

Most of us don’t sign up for the unknown on our own. More often, it’s witnessing someone else’s adventure from a distance—hearing about the impact, the challenge, the personal growth—that sparks our interest.

When we live with boldness and tell the story with joy, it stirs curiosity.

And sometimes that spark is all it takes for others to risk stepping into something they never would have attempted otherwise.

And it works the same way in our walk with God. Spiritual adventure is contagious too. When you’ve tasted His forgiveness, discovered peace in prayer, or found strength by trusting Him in the middle of uncertainty, don’t keep it quiet. Use your voice. Invite someone else into the journey.

Paul said it simply: “Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ” (1 Corinthians 11:1, NLT). That’s not boasting. That’s an invitation. It’s saying, I’ve gone a little farther down this road—come with me.

EVERYONE IS FARTHER ALONG IN SOMETHING

You don’t have to be an expert to help someone else grow. You don’t have to have it all figured out. All it takes is being one step ahead in some area of the journey.

That’s the beauty of the way God works. He doesn’t wait until we’ve mastered it all before He uses us. If you’ve learned how to trust God with your finances, you can encourage someone just starting out. If you’ve discovered how to practice patience when life is stressful, you can inspire someone who’s still reacting out of frustration. If you’ve developed consistency in reading Scripture, you can walk with someone who hasn’t found that rhythm yet.

The truth is, every one of us has ground we’ve already covered that someone else is still approaching. You’ve been down a road they haven’t yet walked. And that makes you the perfect person to say, “Come with me.”

Paul captured it with these words: “Let us think of ways to motivate one another to acts of love and good works” (Hebrews 10:24, NLT). That’s not about showing off. That’s about using our progress, however small, to call others higher. To remind them they don’t have to take the next step alone.

USE YOUR VOICE TO INVITE, NOT IMPRESS

The power of your voice isn’t in how polished it sounds. It’s in how honest it is. People aren’t drawn to perfect speeches; they’re drawn to real stories and genuine invitations.

That’s the difference between performing and leading. Performing puts the spotlight on you. Leading shifts it to the person beside you and says, “Here’s what I’ve learned. Here’s what helped me. Come try it with me.”

Your voice doesn’t have to be loud, but it does have to be used. If you’ve learned how to forgive yourself after failure, say so. If you’ve found courage to share your faith in ordinary conversations, tell someone. If you’ve discovered joy in generosity, share it. Those words might be the very thing that gives another person courage to step forward.

That’s what Philip did with Nathanael. When Nathanael doubted, Philip didn’t argue or polish his words. He just said, “Come and see” (John 1:46). That’s the power of invitation. It’s saying, I’ve seen what God can do, and I want you to experience it too.

FROM MIDDLE-AGED WOMEN ON A VOLCANO TO YOU!

Mari and Desiree pushed past fatigue, fear of the unknown, and thin air to step into an adventure they had never imagined. I couldn’t be prouder of their determination. And here’s the bigger point: their story reminds us that adventure is contagious. Just as my journey stirred something in them, your voice and your story can stir something in someone else. You’ve walked with God in places they haven’t yet dared to go. Use your voice. Challenge them to come with you.

And who knows—maybe their courage will be the spark that nudges you to climb something new this fall, whether that’s a mountain, a challenge, or a step of faith you’ve been holding back on.

You can watch a five-minute video of their journey at the link below.