What a Friend’s Prayer Taught Me About Leadership
This article is part of Finding the Words, a newsletter that delivers practical insights on the day’s issues.
Ryan Pintado Vertner is a dear friend and trusted colleague. He is the founder and CEO of an admired consulting firm, and he served as Mission Partners’ first Social Entrepreneur in Residence. I can say with real certainty that I’ve learned as much—if not more—from Ryan about what it means to lead with heart than from some of the greatest teachers in my life.
So when I saw Ryan post a public prayer last week, I stopped and gave it my full attention.
In a brief but powerful post, he captured so much of what I have been feeling during this disorienting, shaky time we’re living through.
With Ryan’s permission, I wanted to share a short excerpt here:
“It took years for me to even acknowledge my faith outside the context of church or family or close friends. It always feels like a risk. But the bigger risk right now is being inauthentic about what’s happening for me as a leader. I am disoriented. Cruelty and shameless dishonesty are now firmly established as public policy in the United States, and the casualties are mounting… Like many of you, I know that I’ve been called to be a leader in times like this—but how and to where? I’m honestly not sure. Prayer is my only answer right now. Rather than write a dissociated post about my usual topics, I offer this prayer instead, hoping that it helps us all.”
From there, he shared a simple prayer.
There is so much anxiety right now about what to say, how to show up, and when to take a stand. And yet, if we’re honest, many of us are still trying to process—in real time—what we are witnessing.
Ryan’s choice to simply and forthrightly share his unease felt like one of the most honest leadership statements I’ve seen in a long while. No corporate speak. No empty words. Just a clear expression of where he is—grounded, unsettled, searching.
In doing so, he didn’t weaken his leadership position. He strengthened it.
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—something that reflects:
Courage: acknowledging the facts, making hard calls, and resisting performative leadership or empty sign-on letters.
Care: A genuine concern for others and groundedness in the hard realities of this moment.
Clarity: A commitment to communicate simply, aligning your values to actions, and politics firmly aside, naming the difference between right and wrong.
You don’t need to abandon your conscience in order to communicate in a way that shapes culture, decisions, and outcomes.
My trust in Ryan—as a partner, a colleague, and a friend—has never been greater.
And I’m reminded, once again, that when we can’t seem to find the words, it’s often because we’re choosing to bury them.
So, slow down, practice careful listening, and the words you're looking for may just find you.
With my sincere thanks to Ryan for being the leader I needed this week.
This post is part of the Finding The Words column, a series published every Wednesday that delivers a dose of communication insights direct to your inbox. If you like what you read, we hope you’ll subscribe to ensure you receive this each week.
