4 August 2025 | A Leadership Reflection on Disruption, Direction, and Divine Timing

When Everything Fails, Something Else Might Be Forming

I did not plan for the day to unfold the way it did. In fact, I had no intention of registering my daughter’s birth certificate at that moment. However, I found myself mentally and emotionally exhausted. I lacked the capacity to engage in any deep or productive work.

As a result, I decided to complete a task that required minimal cognitive effort: document processing. It was straightforward, and it allowed me to feel useful without draining me further. In my experience, some of the most restorative moments for a leader come when engaging in low-stress, repetitive work. This was one such moment.

However, the day did not remain that simple.

While I was preparing the necessary documents, a senior family member began speaking at length near me. Though the topic was not directed at me, the tone and length of the monologue disrupted my concentration. Personally, I find it difficult to function effectively when there is background commentary. I understand that some individuals can operate amidst such distractions, but I am not one of them.

To maintain emotional composure, I chose not to respond. Instead, I quietly gathered my documents and left the house. That one decision, driven by a need for peace, initiated a series of unexpected events.

From Disruption to Discovery

I drove to the government registration office in Nagara. I anticipated a long wait. It was midday, and the lobby was already full of parents holding infants. I waited for approximately two and a half hours. During this time, I paid eight ringgit for additional photocopies, simply because the documents I had were in color and the office required black-and-white versions.

While waiting, I spent time reading the Bible and drafting a few blog notes. I tried to remain calm and focused. Eventually, my number was called. I approached the counter with a sense of relief, only to discover that I had forgotten to bring the original copy of my marriage certificate.

This moment triggered considerable frustration. I had spent hours commuting and waiting, only to be turned away. I asked the officer whether the registration could still be completed without the missing document. She pointed to a checklist and indicated that the document was required.

I acknowledged the oversight and asked once more whether an exception could be made. The officer maintained her stance and informed me that it could not proceed.

I thanked her and left the office.

I did not raise my voice or express my anger outwardly. Internally, however, I experienced a significant degree of disappointment. But I also realized that lamenting the situation would not change anything. What mattered most at that moment was my next response.

I asked myself a few questions. Do I still have time to complete this task in the coming days? Yes. Do I have the necessary resources to try again? Yes. Am I so overwhelmed that I will not be able to manage a second attempt? No.

With these answers, I made the decision to simply try again, without complaint.

Letting Go Is Not Weakness. It Is Wisdom.

On my way home, I planned to pick up my children from school. When I arrived, I discovered that my parents had already collected them without notifying me. This unexpected change triggered additional irritation.

However, I chose not to escalate the matter. I called to confirm that the children were safe, and I expressed appreciation. I reminded myself that my parents acted out of good intentions, even if they had not communicated clearly.

In many families, especially in Southeast Asia, emotional dynamics are nuanced. Expectations are often unspoken, but the consequences of unmet expectations are deeply felt. In this instance, it would have been easy to interpret the situation as a passive-aggressive act or even a form of protest against other family decisions. However, I chose to interpret it as an act of concern.

I believe there is wisdom in letting things go. Not every disruption deserves a reaction. Not every inconvenience is a personal attack. Sometimes, the decision to remain silent is a conscious choice to preserve peace.

From Chaos to Connection

Later in the day, I received a phone call from a colleague who was emotionally distressed. She had experienced a difficult situation and needed someone to speak with. I asked her directly whether she needed advice or simply someone to listen. She requested both, but emphasized her need for presence.

Although I had other tasks scheduled, the failed registration appointment created unexpected availability in my day. I realized that had the morning proceeded as planned, I would not have been free to support her.

The lesson became clear: what initially appeared to be a wasted day had made space for something important. The delay created margin. The disruption opened room for meaningful connection. My failed plan allowed me to be present when someone needed me.

The Value of Perspective

That night, I went for a walk with Loki, our dog. The streets were quiet. It was late, and I finally had a moment to reflect.

Suddenly, the sequence of the day began to make sense.

If I had not been emotionally fatigued, I would not have attempted the paperwork.

If I had not been interrupted by a senior family member, I would not have left the house at that time.

If I had not forgotten the marriage certificate, I would not have experienced the delay.

If I had not experienced the delay, I would not have had time to support my colleague.

In essence, the frustrations of the day formed a series of interconnected steps. None of the steps were ideal on their own, but together they created an outcome that mattered.

We often chase efficiency and ideal outcomes. We want things to go according to plan. But leadership requires more than control. It requires perspective. We must be willing to interpret detours as opportunities. We must learn to view interruptions as invitations.

The most significant moments of our leadership are rarely found in perfect execution. They are found in the margins, in the spaces between the chaos, where we choose to be present instead of reactive.

Plans Collapse. Purpose Does Not.

There have been many times when I questioned whether I was truly following a higher calling or simply reacting to circumstances. I have wondered whether my actions were aligned with divine purpose or merely my own intentions.

However, I now believe that divine work often takes place not through ideal circumstances but through our faithful response to imperfect ones. God does not require our plans to succeed. He simply asks that we show up with willingness, humility, and compassion.

That is the essence of leadership. Not perfection, but presence. Not dominance, but discernment. Not controlling outcomes, but stewarding moments.

The Reverse That Redefines It All

Leadership is not best measured by the success of your plans. It is measured by how you respond when those plans collapse.

Your greatest contribution may occur on the very day everything fails.

Your most meaningful impact may happen when you have no strategy left, only presence.

Your clearest purpose may emerge when you stop resisting the redirection.

The next time a plan fails, do not panic. Instead, take a step back. Reflect. Reframe.

What looks like failure may, in fact, be the unfolding of something far more important.

Because while plans may collapse,

Purpose does not.