Before the Order of Business: Check Your Heart Posture

Before the Order of Business: Check Your Heart Posture

I have been sitting with something.

And before anybody thinks this is about them, let me go ahead and say this:

I don’t know who this is for.

It might be for you.

It might be for somebody sitting in a boardroom.

It might be for somebody leading a ministry.

It might be for somebody running a business.

Hell, it might just be for me.

But God has been dealing with me about heart posture.

Not performance.

Not titles.

Not how many meetings we attended.

Not how quickly we answered an email.

Not how much money we raised.

Not whether somebody completed the task.

Heart posture.

Because somewhere along the way, we got really good at checking the status of the work and forgot to check the temperature of the people doing it.

And people are tired.

People are grieving.

People are rebuilding.

People are sick.

People are trying to keep marriages together.

People are ending marriages.

People are burying people they love.

People are parenting.

People are caregiving.

People are trying to figure out how the hell the life they knew disappeared while everybody around them kept moving like Tuesday was still just Tuesday.

And then somebody sends an email marked:

URGENT.

And maybe it is urgent.

Business is business.

I understand that better than most.

I am a CPA. I am a businesswoman. I have spent years in rooms where deadlines matter, dollars matter, controls matter, accountability matters, and your word better mean something.

So this is not me suggesting that we throw accountability out the window and start holding hands singing “Kumbaya.”

No.

Accountability matters.

But so does grace.

And somewhere we decided the two could not live in the same house.

They can.

The Business Has a Heartbeat

Organizations love to talk about mission.

Vision.

Strategy.

Governance.

Revenue.

Fundraising.

Compliance.

Deliverables.

All necessary.

But none of those things get up in the morning and come to work.

People do.

People are the heartbeat.

People leave their families.

People move things around on calendars.

People sacrifice evenings.

People take 30 minutes they really do not have and turn it into an hour because something matters to them.

People serve while carrying things nobody in the room knows anything about.

And sometimes those people were appointed to something in one season and then life completely changed.

I know because it happened to me.

I was sworn onto a board while my son Jaxon was in the ICU.

Four days later, my son died.

Read that again.

Four days later.

And somehow, I kept showing up.

Not because I was superhuman.

Not because grief somehow skipped my address.

Not because I had discovered some magical ability to compartmentalize the death of my child.

I showed up because that is what I had always done.

Serve.

Work.

Give.

Figure it out.

Keep going.

But eventually, life will remind you:

You are human.

And being anointed does not make you a machine.

Being appointed does not make you a machine.

Being dependable does not make you a machine.

Being the one everybody can count on does not mean you will always have the same capacity.

Seasons change.

And mine damn sure did.

Some Things Didn't Transfer to This New Life

I changed my phone number.

My old number sits on Do Not Disturb.

And there is a reason.

That number is connected to appointments my son will never make.

Doctors.

Therapies.

Medical equipment.

Business.

A whole life.

Some things transferred into this new world with me.

Some things did not.

And I need somebody to understand the difference between an excuse and context.

Context does not remove accountability.

Context tells you how to apply it with humanity.

There is a difference.

Jesus Himself understood human limitation.

He withdrew.

He rested.

He grieved.

He wept.

He stepped away from crowds that still wanted something from Him.

When Lazarus died, Scripture gives us two words that may be among the most human words in the Bible:

“Jesus wept.” — John 11:35

He knew resurrection was coming and still made room for grief.

So why do we expect people to experience death, sickness, divorce, financial change, caregiving, trauma, exhaustion, and complete life transitions—and walk into Tuesday's meeting exactly the same?

Sometimes they can't.

Sometimes I can't.

And maybe grace is not lowering the standard.

Maybe grace is recognizing the human being standing underneath it.

The Dollars Ain't Dollaring

Let me make this plain.

The dollars that used to dollar ain't dollaring anymore.

There.

I said it.

We joke that you know you have reached grown-up status when all your bills are on autopay.

Everything drafts.

Everything clears.

Everything is handled.

Until life happens.

There are people whose bills have been on autopay for YEARS who suddenly cannot put everything on autopay anymore.

There are people who used to write the check without thinking who now need to check the account first.

People who used to give $1,000 may only have $100.

People who used to give $100 may only have $10.

And somebody who used to give money may currently only have a prayer to give.

That prayer still has value.

Because a changed financial season does not erase somebody's character.

A changed capacity does not erase somebody's commitment.

A hard season does not erase everything somebody has already poured into the ground.

Galatians 6:9 tells us not to become weary in doing good because in due season we will reap if we do not give up.

Well, I have been sowing for 40 years.

Forty.

And I believe God when He says there is a harvest.

But harvest does not always look like working harder.

Sometimes harvest looks like finally allowing yourself to receive.

Sometimes the person who has spent decades being everybody else's resource enters a season where God says:

Sit down. Let somebody pour into you.

Whew.

That'll preach to me all by itself.

Strong-Arm or Grace?

So this is the question God put before me:

Is this the moment to strong-arm somebody, or is this the moment to extend grace?

Because those are not the same thing.

There are absolutely moments when accountability is required.

There are moments when somebody needs to answer the question.

Make the payment.

Return the call.

Complete the assignment.

Own what they did.

Fix what they broke.

I believe deeply in accountability.

But discernment asks another question:

What season is this person in?

Maybe before:

“Why haven't you responded?”

we ask:

“Are you okay?”

Before:

“You missed the meeting.”

Maybe:

“We haven't seen you. How are you?”

Before:

“You haven't fulfilled your commitment.”

Maybe:

“Has something changed that we need to know about?”

Not because grown people need babysitting.

Because human beings need humanity.

Proverbs 4:23 says:

“Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.”

Everything.

Including leadership.

Including governance.

Including ministry.

Including business.

Including emails.

Including how we correct people.

Including how we respond when someone disappoints us.

Including what we assume when someone who has always shown up suddenly doesn't.

Check the Temperature

We check KPIs.

We check budgets.

We check bank accounts.

We check attendance.

We check deliverables.

We check deadlines.

We check email.

We check our damn phones 400 times a day.

But when was the last time we checked the temperature of the people?

Not to be nosey.

Not to gather information.

Not to gossip.

Not to decide whether somebody's pain is painful enough to deserve grace.

Just:

How are you?

And actually wait for the answer.

Because somebody can still be producing and drowning.

Somebody can still be serving and grieving.

Somebody can still be leading and scared.

Somebody can still be smiling and barely holding their shit together.

Ask me how I know.

Leadership is not only knowing when to push.

Leadership is knowing when pushing somebody another inch may break something you cannot put back together.

That requires discernment.

That requires humility.

That requires heart posture.

Maybe I Am the One Who Needs the Check

And here is where God got me.

Because it is very easy to write this and think about everybody who needs to read it.

Oh, I could make a LIST.

Baby.

But that is not the assignment.

Because if I am asking everybody else to check their heart posture, Shantrael has to check hers too.

Am I extending the grace I am asking people to extend to me?

Am I listening before I assume?

Am I correcting from love or from hurt?

Am I responding to what happened today, or am I responding to everything that has happened to me before today?

Am I being the light I keep asking other people to be?

That one sat me down.

Because new mercies are not just for everybody else.

They are for me.

And correction isn't just for everybody else either.

It is for me.

Lamentations 3:22–23 reminds us that God's mercies are new every morning.

Every morning.

Meaning yesterday's version of me does not have to be today's version.

Neither does yours.

Before the Order of Business

So before the meeting.

Before the agenda.

Before the motion.

Before the second.

Before the vote.

Before the email.

Before the response.

Before you tell somebody what they should have done.

Before you decide what their silence means.

Before you determine that their changed capacity means they stopped caring—

Check your heart posture.

And I will check mine.

Lord,

You are the Source.

We are human.

We don't always get this right.

Thank You for knowing that before we ever had enough sense to admit it.

Thank You for grace.

Thank You for mercy.

Thank You for sending Your Son because You already knew we could not perfect ourselves.

Now check us.

Check our hearts.

Check our motives.

Check our mouths.

Check our assumptions.

Check how we lead.

Check how we correct.

Check how we love.

Check how we treat people when they cannot give us what they used to give us.

Give us discernment to know when firmness is required and when somebody desperately needs grace.

And Lord, when I am pointing toward something that needs to change, turn my finger around first.

Show me me.

Let me be the change I keep asking to see.

Let me recognize the humanity in somebody else because I finally learned to honor the humanity in myself.

And before I conduct whatever business You have placed in my hands, remind me that people are not positions, votes, dollars, deliverables, titles, or names on a roster.

They are Yours.

And so am I.

Before the order of business, let checking our heart posture be the first order of business.

Amen.

— Shantrael Trinae TaylorHis. Period.