The work we do at Mission Partners has always been about human impact, and our approach to AI is no different. AI will not replace our thinking, and it need not replace yours. But when used and governed well — with minds open and values intact — we believe it can open new doors to innovative methods of learning, working, collaborating, and advancing mission-driven work in ethical, responsible, and more meaningful ways.

The leaders who navigate these moments most effectively are rarely the ones with the best words. They're the ones who did the thinking before the moment arrived — who know their mission filter, have a trusted team ready to convene, and have already decided, through the lens of their values, what they will and won't speak to publicly. That preparation is what transforms a reactive scramble into a grounded response. And it's what keeps silence from becoming its own kind of harm.

If you're in a season where progress feels slower than you'd hoped, I want to offer you this: there are many ways to measure growth, and even more ways to make an impact. Progress is not always obvious, and it is not always off the charts.
But it is always possible.

Nearly 20 years ago, early into owning my first company, a young employee on my team began struggling. We noticed it first through missed deadlines, followed by increased difficulty connecting with colleagues. There was a visible discomfort she wasn't ready to name, but others were picking up on.

If you're in a space between — where you are and where you want to be — I encourage you to reflect on the mountains you've already covered, and acknowledge your progress with generosity. Consider what you've learned since your last big challenge, and how much more equipped you are — even if it doesn't feel that way — for what's ahead.

I've been thinking a lot lately about what it takes to truly communicate well — not just to deliver a message, but to make it land. To communicate in a way that changes how someone thinks, feels, or acts, and deepens trust in the process. It's on my mind this week because of a challenge recently posed by a new executive — someone who stepped into a role where trust had been damaged and now needs to earn his team's trust while rebuilding what was previously lost.

There’s an illustrated children’s book I love called Quiet. It was written in 2018 by legendary author-illustrator Tomie DePaola, just a few years before his passing. DePaola wrote some of my favorite children’s books, but this one is decidedly different. Each time I pick it up, I’m reminded of how important its message is today—a message for children as much as for adults.

At Mission Partners, we help organizations communicate what matters—and communicate it well. We write speeches and stories that capture attention, messages that move decision makers to act, and strategies that engage employees and volunteers to champion bold new ideas.

But none of those desired outcomes can happen without first asking a more fundamental question: How do we communicate in a way that all audiences—not just a select few—can understand and access the message?

When I wrote my first Finding the Words column on January 3, 2022, I didn’t know quite where it would take me, only that I needed a place to help make sense of our changing world.
 
Between the lines, though, something else started to unfold. I began to notice patterns and trends among the leaders who were inspiring my columns.

We are living through tragic and deeply disorienting times. And the “safest” response, we’re often led to believe, is to protect ourselves by filtering what we say. Water it down. Lose the feeling. Be forthright—but not too vulnerable. But sometimes, what helps most is simply naming what’s true. That doesn’t mean you need to share a prayer. But it does mean you can share something meaningful to you.

The truth is, when news breaks, leaders are often left balancing urgency, responsibility, and uncertainty—all while knowing their words (or silence) will be interpreted. This framework isn’t about saying the ‘right’ thing. It’s about making intentional choices in moments that don’t allow for easy ones. In today’s Finding the Words, I’ll offer a brief breakdown of those considerations and invite you to explore the full resource, linked at the bottom of this post.

You can't do it all alone. You're not expected to. And in times of complexity, when you're feeling overwhelmed, sometimes the very best thing is knowing that you have someone you can turn to, talk with, and work through the complexity together. By focusing on what we can do or who can help, we regain momentum—even if it doesn't solve everything.  Because progress, especially in uncertain times, is rarely dramatic. More often, it’s quiet and incremental. It's bit by bit.

You don’t need a dozen principles to guide you this year. You need one that can carry you forward and help you stay steady—especially on the hard days. And whatever it is, it has to be right for you. Think of it as a grounding practice. A daily prompt. An intention for your leadership—and your life.

So, where to go from here? If you are launching something new, turning away from something familiar, or digging deeper wherever you are, I hope something in this week's reflection can help light your path forward. Because no matter which way you're headed, you can always go further when you're open to the possibility.

So, in this season of gratitude, and for however our paths have crossed this year, I thank you. In one way (or more), you've gladdened my heart, and I hope to have done the same for you.

Remember that accessibility is a practice, not a checklist. You don't have to get it perfect today. You just have to start—and then keep going. That's what it means to keep a movement moving forward.

You don't need to dominate a room to command it. Instead, the next time you step up to speak, remember to prepare so well that you can be present, connect so deeply that others feel seen, and share your passion so openly that it moves people to action. Do those things, and you won't just command a room—you'll change it.

We are all in a pressurized state right now. The weight of uncertainty is heavy and dizzying. But as one nonprofit leader reminded me recently, diamonds are formed under pressure. And just as a brilliant diamond can be formed under pressure, so too can our mission be clarified under intense conditions.

So, what if we made listening, not talking, our greatest act of leadership? When we choose to listen, we will also choose to quiet the noise. And that one simple act can begin to bridge divides, repair harm, and re-humanize the spaces we share.

Disagreement will always be part of our work. It can also be good for the work, as long as there are equal amounts of disagreement, respect, and collaboration. If we can hold space for all three, we will not only get through the challenges but also build something lasting.