What Aging, Cancer, and Legacy Teach Us About Leadership
The days are long, but the years are short. Legacy isn’t built in years—it’s built in presence.
The Day My Neck Sounded Like a Toyota
It was just another ordinary day. Sauna. Silence. Stretch.
Then it happened—creak—a small sound as I turned my neck. Not pain. Just… friction. The kind you hear from an old Toyota Alphard steering wheel when it starts to show its age. Not broken. Just… seasoned.
And in that tiny sound, I heard something louder than I expected.
A reminder: I’m not invincible. And time doesn’t knock—it whispers.
Later that day, I realized I’d lost partial hearing in one ear. But strangely, sleep came easier. Silence became my friend. Then came the long-sightedness. I now remove my glasses when taking photos—something I once found amusing when older folks did it.
Now I’ve become them. Not in a regretful way, but in a strangely comforting one.
Because every creak, every blur, every quiet moment is reminding me: I’m still here. But time is moving fast. And leadership isn’t about how much you accomplish. It’s about whether you were truly present while it happened.
It All Feels Like Yesterday—Until You Blink
Some memories are so vivid, they feel like last week.
My first day of high school. The early Melbourne mornings. Starting my first company. Becoming a photographer. The moment my son was born. The day Stellar began.
All of it—compressed into what feels like one long yesterday.
I look at my son now—nearly ten. And I’m almost forty.
Ask me what feels further away: my teenage years or last night’s dinner with my kids… and I honestly wouldn’t know. Because memory doesn’t follow time. It follows meaning.
Two Announcements. One Evening. Two Echoes.
That same evening, two very different messages reached me.
One was an announcement from Pastor Dr. Philip Lyn: he had been diagnosed with stage four cancer.
The other: Malaysia’s fifth Prime Minister, Abdullah Badawi, had passed away at 85.
Two men. Two lives. Two echoes in the heart of the nation.
One speaks not from a hospital bed, but with the calm of one who’s looked it in the eye—and believes in a miracle.
The other now silent, remembered quietly by few.
What Pastor Dr Philip Taught Me About Leading With Eternity in Mind
I listened to Pastor Philip’s podcast that night. He didn’t use it to ask for pity or retire quietly. He didn’t question God or spiral into despair. In fact, it wasn’t really about him.
Even in his pain, his heart was for others.
He gave me—and all of us—a model for leadership that endures suffering, and dignifies legacy.
Here are the reflections that stayed with me.
1. Purpose Over Transaction
“I serve out of gratitude for His grace, not as a transaction.” – Philip Lyn
That line hit me.
He wasn’t serving God with the hidden hope that years of obedience would buy him immunity from hardship. There was no “I served You, now protect me” mindset. No bargain. No entitlement.
He simply served. Because he was loved first.
That’s rare. Because in today’s world, even purpose is often wrapped in performance. Even calling can become currency. But not for Philip.
Leadership Insight: Teach your team—and yourself—that your “why” must survive the storms. If it only lives when things are going well, it’s not rooted deep enough.
2. Vulnerability as Leadership
As he shared the news of his diagnosis, Philip’s first instinct wasn’t to protect his image—it was to consider how others might feel.
“It breaks me to see their hurt.”
He didn’t cover up. He invited us in.
He let us see the cracks—but not to make us pity him. Rather, to show that leadership doesn’t mean being invulnerable. It means leading anyway, even with the weight.
Leadership Insight: Vulnerability doesn’t diminish authority. It deepens trust. People follow courage, but they connect with honesty.
3. Stewardship in Crisis
As both a doctor and a pastor, Philip didn’t run from the facts. He knew the odds. But instead of spiraling into fear, he stewarded the moment.
He told his team. He informed his elders. He started planning—not just for his treatment, but for the church. Not out of panic, but out of responsibility.
Leadership Insight: Real leaders don’t wait for the storm to pass. They build while it rains. They plan for continuity—not because they’re pessimistic, but because they know legacy isn’t guaranteed without stewardship.
4. Legacy That Doesn’t Need Your Name
When asked about legacy, he said something profound:
“I don’t want my name perpetuated. That’s personality-driven and fades.”
Instead, he spoke about transformed lives. About gospel-centered workplaces. About 13 bivocational marketplace pastors who are already carrying the vision forward.
No spotlight. Just systems and people that outlive the leader.
Leadership Insight: The greatest leaders don’t build brands. They build bridges. To a future they may never personally walk into—but they helped others reach.
5. Delegation That Strengthens, Not Replaces
Because of how he led, his church was ready. His elders could lead. His core team could carry on. His diagnosis didn’t disrupt the rhythm—because he’d shared the load long before crisis came.
This is what happens when you trust early. When you build others, not just tasks.
Leadership Insight: Empowerment isn’t backup. It’s multiplication. True succession begins not when you’re gone—but while you’re still there.
Full podcast here
And Then… Pak Lah Was Gone
I was young when Abdullah Badawi—Pak Lah—was Prime Minister. But I remember how hopeful the country felt.
He cut wasteful projects. He allowed critique of the government. He embraced humility, even as others chased legacy in concrete and glass.
And now, he’s gone. Quietly.
Not many seemed to notice. Or remember.
It makes you wonder: Is that the fate of all leaders?
Maybe. And maybe that’s the point.
Because it was never about being remembered.
It was about helping others remember what matters.
The Reverse That Redefines It All
The opposite of leadership isn’t failure. It’s self-preservation.
If you lead to protect your comfort, you’ve already lost your impact.
True leaders surrender image to guard integrity.
They delegate not to escape work, but to expand reach.
They serve not for applause, but for something eternal.
Today Is the Youngest Day of Your Life
Tonight, we celebrated Grace’s birthday.
My wife. My children. Our community.
Laughter. Cake. Conversations with people who matter.
And I kept thinking: One day, even this will feel like yesterday.
But today—we were here. Fully.
And that is the gift.
Call to Action: If You Died Today, What Would Echo?
- Mentor someone this week—not with advice, but with your presence.
- Tell your story—not the highlight reel, but the real one.
- Empower someone to lead—before you have to.
- Stop chasing applause. Start planting seeds.
