November 6, 2026
I think that’s one of the more difficult questions leaders face.
You have a decision in front of you. It matters. Other people may be affected by it. There are risks, unknowns, and consequences you can’t fully anticipate.
So you do what responsible leaders do.
You gather information.
You seek counsel.
You consider the alternatives.
You pray. You reflect. You evaluate.
And then?
You gather a little more information.
You have another conversation.
You revisit the alternatives.
You wonder whether there’s something you’ve overlooked.
All of that might be wise.
Or it might be keeping you stuck.
How can you tell the difference?
In my work with leaders, I regularly encounter people who are carrying the weight of an unresolved decision.
Sometimes they’re facing a significant organizational challenge. Sometimes it’s a personnel issue, a difficult conversation, a new opportunity, or a change they’ve been contemplating for months.
And often they say something like this:
“I just need a little more clarity.”
I understand that. Clarity is central to the work I do.
But I’ve learned to become curious about what someone means when they say it.
Because sometimes they genuinely lack important information.
And sometimes they’re hoping for something no amount of information can provide.
Certainty.
They want to know the decision will work.
They want to know how people will respond.
They want assurance that they won’t make a mistake.
They want to eliminate the possibility of regret.
Who wouldn’t?
But here’s the challenge.
And confusing the two can keep us from moving forward.
Imagine a leader who knows a difficult conversation needs to happen.
A team member’s behavior is affecting others. Expectations haven’t been met. Trust is beginning to erode.
The leader recognizes the problem.
They’ve considered what needs to be said. They’ve thought about how to approach the conversation. They’ve sought advice from someone they trust.
But they keep waiting.
Perhaps next week will be better.
Perhaps the situation will improve.
Perhaps another conversation with a colleague will provide the perfect approach.
Perhaps they’ll eventually feel confident enough to begin.
Meanwhile, the situation continues.
And the delay has consequences.
The team member doesn’t receive the feedback they need.
Other people continue carrying the burden.
Frustration grows.
The leader becomes increasingly preoccupied with a conversation that hasn’t even happened.
I’ve seen how exhausting that can be.
Sometimes the problem isn’t that the leader doesn’t know what to do.
It’s that they can’t know how the other person will respond.
And that’s an uncertainty no amount of preparation can completely remove.
Of course, this doesn’t mean every difficult conversation should happen immediately. Timing matters. Context matters. The leader may need to gather facts or address a safety concern first.
But once those things have been considered, waiting for a guaranteed response is a different matter.
The question becomes: Am I still preparing, or am I postponing?
Here are five questions that can help.
This may sound obvious.
But you’d be surprised how often leaders are wrestling with a cloud of concerns rather than a clearly defined decision.
“I don’t know what to do about our team.”
That’s a concern.
“I need to decide whether to restructure two leadership roles.”
That’s a decision.
“I’m overwhelmed by everything happening in our organization.”
That’s an experience.
“I need to determine which three priorities will receive our attention this quarter.”
That’s a decision.
The distinction matters.
When the decision remains vague, nearly every piece of information can seem relevant. We keep thinking because we haven’t identified what we’re actually trying to resolve.
Clarity begins by naming the decision.
Try completing this sentence:
“The decision I need to make is…”
Not the entire problem.
Not every related concern.
The specific decision in front of you.
You may discover that what felt enormous becomes more manageable once you’ve named it.
This is one of my favorite questions.
Because it helps distinguish useful information from the search for reassurance.
Suppose you’re considering a new initiative.
You have a reasonable understanding of the opportunity. You’ve identified the resources required. You’ve talked with the people who will be involved.
But you still feel uncertain.
Ask yourself:
What specific information could meaningfully change my decision?
Maybe you need to understand the financial implications more clearly.
Maybe you need to know whether a key person is willing to participate.
Maybe there’s a legal, ethical, or organizational consideration you haven’t adequately addressed.
Those are legitimate reasons to keep investigating.
But what if you can’t identify anything specific?
What if you’re simply hoping that one more conversation will make you feel completely comfortable?
That’s worth noticing.
More information isn’t automatically more clarity.
Sometimes additional information sharpens our understanding.
Other times, it simply gives our hesitation somewhere to hide.
This question requires some honesty.
And perhaps a little courage.
Because sometimes the obstacle isn’t informational.
It’s emotional.
What if people disagree?
What if someone is disappointed?
What if I fail?
What if I make the wrong decision?
What if this changes how people see me?
What if I discover I’m not as capable as I hoped?
These are real concerns.
And I don’t think we serve leaders well by dismissing them.
Fear can alert us to genuine risks. It can reveal what we value. It can help us recognize where additional support or preparation is needed.
But fear can also exaggerate our responsibility.
We begin to believe that a good leader must be able to control not only the decision, but also everyone else’s response.
And that’s a burden no leader can carry.
There’s an important distinction here:
I can prepare carefully for a difficult conversation.
I cannot guarantee how the other person will receive it.
I can make a thoughtful organizational decision.
I cannot ensure that everyone will agree.
I can take a meaningful step toward a new opportunity.
I cannot promise myself that the journey will be free of disappointment.
Recognizing those limits isn’t an excuse for carelessness.
It’s an invitation to lead with greater freedom.
We tend to think carefully about the risks of taking action.
But we don’t always give equal attention to the risks of inaction.
What happens if the decision remains unresolved for another week?
Another month?
Another year?
Will an important opportunity disappear?
Will a struggling team member remain without direction?
Will an unhealthy pattern become more deeply established?
Will the people depending on your leadership continue waiting?
Will you keep carrying the mental weight of something that needs to be addressed?
Sometimes waiting is genuinely wise.
A pause can create space for prayer, reflection, healing, or additional understanding.
But sometimes waiting is costly.
And because those costs accumulate gradually, they’re easy to overlook.
Here’s a question worth asking:
That question doesn’t force an immediate decision.
It simply reminds us that inaction is not always neutral.
Notice what this question doesn’t ask.
It doesn’t ask how to solve every problem.
It doesn’t ask how to guarantee success.
It doesn’t ask how to anticipate every possible outcome.
It asks what faithfulness looks like next.
Sometimes that step is making the decision.
Sometimes it’s having the conversation.
Sometimes it’s asking one more important question.
Sometimes it’s inviting someone else into the process.
Sometimes it’s testing an idea on a small scale rather than committing the entire organization.
And sometimes the next faithful step is to wait—intentionally, for a clear reason, with an understanding of what you’re waiting for.
I find that liberating.
Because the next faithful step is not necessarily the biggest step.
It’s the step that is yours to take.
And taking it may reveal something you couldn’t have known beforehand.
I’ve been reflecting this week on the story of Abraham.
God called him to leave his country and go to a land He would show him.
Hebrews 11:8 tells us that Abraham obeyed and went, even though he didn’t know where he was going.
I’ve always found that remarkable.
He didn’t have the whole map.
He had a promise.
He had a calling.
And he had enough to take the next step.
Of course, we need to be careful about how we apply Abraham’s experience to everyday leadership decisions. Not every opportunity is a divine calling, and not every strong impression is God’s direction.
That’s why discernment matters.
But Abraham’s story reminds me of something essential about faith.
Faith isn’t confidence that I’ve accurately predicted the future.
It’s confidence in the faithfulness of God, even when I cannot see everything ahead.
That doesn’t eliminate uncertainty.
But it changes how I carry it.
Think about a decision you’re facing right now.
Perhaps it’s one you’ve been considering for some time.
You’ve done some research. You’ve sought advice. You’ve thought about the implications.
And you’re still waiting.
Maybe there’s something important you genuinely need to understand.
If so, pursue it.
But perhaps you already know enough to take the next faithful step.
Perhaps what remains isn’t a lack of clarity.
It’s the discomfort of not knowing how everything will unfold.
And perhaps the most helpful thing you can do is stop asking for a guarantee that isn’t available.
You don’t need to be reckless.
You don’t need to rush.
You don’t need to pretend the risks aren’t real.
But you also don’t need the whole map.
You need enough clarity to take the next faithful step.
And the willingness to discover what comes after that.
Before you move on with your day, consider these questions:
You may discover that you need more information.
Or you may discover that you already know what you need to do.
Either discovery is valuable.
Because clarity isn’t about eliminating every unknown.
It’s about recognizing what matters and moving forward faithfully.
One of the reasons I love working with leaders is that a thoughtful conversation can help uncover what’s really keeping us stuck.
Sometimes we need better information.
Sometimes we need a different perspective.
Sometimes we simply need a safe place to think out loud, acknowledge what we’re carrying, and recognize the next faithful step.
That’s the heart of my work through The Executive Counsel—providing leaders with confidential, ongoing counsel as they navigate decisions, responsibilities, and the complexities of leadership.
If you’re carrying a decision that would benefit from a trusted conversation, I’d welcome the opportunity to connect.
Because leadership carries weight.
But you don’t have to carry it alone.
Know weight. No isolation.
Facing a decision that feels heavier than it should?
Sometimes clarity doesn’t come from gathering more information. It comes from having a safe place to think out loud, explore what’s really holding you back, and discover your next faithful step.
Through The Executive Counsel, I walk alongside leaders navigating complex decisions, challenging responsibilities, and the weight of leadership.
You don’t need all the answers. And you don’t have to figure everything out alone.
Let’s have a conversation.
Know weight. No isolation.
