The lunch table at The Crate was unusually loud today. By 1:45, the chatter had faded and only a few of us remained at our desks. I was focused on work when Elias appeared at my desk. I hadn’t even noticed him approach until he leaned over and asked if I’d been “kicked off” the desk next to Roland. I explained that Debbie had moved in yesterday and, with the joy of a flexi desk, those of us who are part-time get to relocate for the full-timers.

Interestingly, he had also stopped by my desk yesterday during his lunch in the same way with a question I can't remember. Two days in a row — that's a shift from months of near silence since October last year.  As I walked past him after filling up my water bottle in the kitchen, I mustered up the courage to ask him about his progress with the walking preparation for his holiday next month. We had a brief conversation before I returned to my desk.

Later, this evening, I joined Clive for drinks at The Crate. While The Gathering was in full swing downstairs, I retreated upstairs to the massage chairs for ten minutes, then settled into my “thinking chair” downstairs with The 15 Laws of Growth by John Maxwell. I’d just been reading how Maxwell touches base with his long-time assistant every single day of the year. In stark contrast, during my last months working with Elias, our connection had thinned to the point where we met at most once a month.

If I’m honest, the struggle began almost a year ago, last September, when, in a moment of frustration, I felt like a cat being kicked. The shock of it knocked my confidence, and in trying too hard to avoid making mistakes, I made more than usual — especially during the awards administration. That moment marked the beginning of a slow unravelling.

From my chair, I could hear Helen giving her 10-minute hack on forgiveness. Her words landed close to home, especially regarding Elias. The past eleven months have been hard, but I no longer feel the need to flee when he’s near. I can even joke, laugh, and hold my ground without my heart racing.

As I was leaving, Elias came down the passage, arms outstretched, offering me a hug. Then he told me my replacement had “pulled a runner.” I replied that I was sorry to hear it and hoped he’d find a new replacement soon. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, “because we have systems.” I hope your systems are good enough," I replied as he walked away.

I couldn’t help but smile at the irony — those were the systems I had built and never received feedback on until Clive came home from The Gathering last week, saying Elias had noted I'd done a great job. It stung because the affirmation came in a way that didn’t allow me to receive it directly, from the person who should have acknowledged my value when it mattered most. For months, I've been wrestling with the issue of fading in the background. No final goodbye from the team, nor a comment on the work I had done.

Perhaps he has begun to realise what he let go. Perhaps hearing Helen speak on forgiveness stirred something. Perhaps it was simply a moment of unexpected humanity. 🤔 Whatever the reason, I walked away surprised by the encounter, but at peace.

Forgiveness doesn’t always mean restoration of the relationship, but it does mean freedom — freedom from bitterness, from the weight of unanswered questions, from the sting of being undervalued. And in that freedom, I am learning that leadership without connection is just management, and systems without relationship are just structure without life.

💡Reflection Prompt:

• Where have I been part of a “team” but left feeling unseen? 🤔

• What small, consistent actions can I take to nurture the relationships that matter — even in virtual spaces? 🤔

🙌Prayer:

Lord, thank You for the grace to forgive and for the quiet progress You’ve been working in my heart. Teach me to value connection over convenience, relationship over routine. Help me lead with intentionality and keep the flames of trust and belonging alive wherever I serve. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.