Forgiveness Over Failure

Some leadership lessons arrive through success.

Others arrive through spectacular failure.

One of the most important lessons of my career came from one of the worst phone calls I have ever taken.

Early in my career, I worked in frontline insurance sales in a contact centre.

I loved it.

My dad has always joked that I could "sell ice to Eskimos," and, if I'm honest, I wasn't doing too badly.

I'd also started mentoring other sales consultants, and I took that responsibility seriously.

I was constantly looking for better ways to sell—not just to improve my own results, but so I could pass those lessons on to the people I was coaching.

But then came one of those days.

You know the ones.

Every customer wants to "think about it."

Every objection seems impossible to overcome.

Every conversation ends with...

"I'll get back to you."

As the day wore on, I could feel my energy draining.

My shoulders sank lower in the chair.

My confidence disappeared.

The more I tried to force a result, the worse things became.

At the same time, our weekly leadership meeting was taking place in the meeting room nearby.

One of the standing agenda items was listening to a live sales call for coaching purposes.

Normally, I could hear whose call had been selected.

Normally, I was quietly relieved when it wasn't mine.

That day...

It was.

Unfortunately, the call they heard wasn't my best.

It wasn't even close.

Truthfully, it was terrible.

The kind of call that makes you cringe when you think back on it years later.

When the call ended, my manager, Rob, walked out of the meeting room.

He looked at me and quietly said,

"James... we need to talk."

My heart sank.

We sat down together, and I explained everything.

The kind of day I'd been having.

The frustration.

The disappointment.

How I'd let that frustration spill into the conversation with the customer.

He thanked me for being honest.

He explained he'd need to discuss it with my Unit Manager before deciding what happened next.

The timing couldn't have been worse.

At the time, I was working towards moving into leadership.

One terrible call had the potential to undo months of hard work.

Later that day, Rob came back.

I received a formal verbal warning.

It would go on my employment record.

I was disappointed.

Embarrassed.

Convinced I'd just damaged my future.

A few days later, I was standing in the photocopy room when my Unit Manager, Julie, walked in.

There was one of those awkward silences where both people know exactly what the other is thinking.

I had a choice.

Pretend nothing had happened.

Or acknowledge it.

I decided to apologise.

Julie looked at me and said something I've never forgotten.

"Yes James, that was probably the worst call I've heard in a long time... and it certainly wasn't what I expected from you. But here's the thing... this is a defining moment. I forgive you for the poor performance. That call wasn't great, but you are not a failure. Your career will only be defined by this if you choose to let it."

I don't remember exactly how I responded.

But I remember exactly how I felt.

Lighter.

Hopeful.

Determined.

Because in one conversation, Julie taught me one of the greatest leadership lessons I've ever learnt.

The Difference Between Performance and Identity

Great leaders hold people accountable.

Exceptional leaders refuse to let one mistake become someone's identity.

Julie didn't ignore my poor performance.

She addressed it.

She held me accountable.

The warning stayed.

The standard didn't change.

But she also separated my behaviour from my identity.

She corrected the action without condemning the person.

That's what grace looks like in leadership.

Every Leader Will Have a Bad Day

The reality is, every one of us will have moments we're not proud of.

We'll say the wrong thing.

We'll make poor decisions.

We'll miss opportunities.

We'll let stress affect the way we lead.

Those moments matter.

But they don't have to define us.

Failure is an event.

It was never meant to become your identity.

The Way We Respond Shapes the Future

As leaders, we'll all have opportunities to respond to someone else's worst day.

We'll have the choice to shame or to restore.

To label or to encourage.

To write someone off or to call them higher.

That doesn't mean lowering standards.

It means believing people are capable of growing beyond the mistake they just made.

Sometimes, the greatest gift you can give someone isn't removing the consequence.

It's reminding them that their future is still bigger than their failure.

Jesus Never Defined People by Their Worst Moment

One of the things I love most about Jesus' leadership is that He consistently separated people from their failures.

Peter denied Him three times.

Yet Jesus restored him and entrusted him to lead the early Church.

The woman caught in adultery encountered both truth and grace.

Zacchaeus found acceptance before transformation.

Jesus never ignored sin.

But He also never reduced people to it.

He saw who they could become.

As leaders, we're called to do the same.

A Question Worth Asking

Think about someone on your team.

Someone who has made a mistake.

Someone who disappointed you.

Someone who isn't performing at the level you know they're capable of.

Have you been defining them by their worst moment?

Or have you been helping them see who they can still become?

Because one conversation of grace has the power to change the direction of someone's career.

I know.

Mine did.

Forgiveness Over Failure

More than twenty years have passed since that phone call.

I've forgotten the customer's name.

I've forgotten what product I was selling.

I've forgotten almost everything about that day.

But I'll never forget Julie's words.

Not because they excused poor performance.

But because they reminded me that one poor performance didn't define who I was.

That lesson has shaped every leadership role I've held since.

Whenever I've had to coach someone through a mistake, I've tried to remember the gift Julie gave me.

Hold the standard.

Speak the truth.

Offer forgiveness.

Protect the person's dignity.

Because people rarely become who we constantly remind them they were.

They become who we believe they can be.

After all...

The greatest leaders don't ignore failure.

They refuse to let failure have the final word.