by Brad Layland, Chief Executive Officer & Senior Consultant

On the podcast this week, my friend Doug Gehman, president of Globe International, said something that’s been stuck in my head ever since. He said, “Only twenty-five percent of Christian leaders finish well.”

Let that sink in.

Three out of four people who start out serving God with passion and vision don’t make it to the finish line with their faith, integrity, and tenderness intact.

That statistic is both sobering and, if we’re honest, a little relatable. Because ministry is hard. Leadership is messy. And after a while, even the strongest, most faithful people can get tired—not the kind of tired that a nap fixes, but the kind that seeps into your soul.

That’s probably why I find the end of Nehemiah’s story both fascinating and heartbreaking.

Here’s a guy who starts his journey as the ultimate servant leader. He’s the cupbearer to the king, and when he hears that Jerusalem’s walls are in ruins, he weeps. He prays. He fasts. He risks his life to ask the king for permission to rebuild. And then, somehow, through sheer grit and faith, he pulls off one of the greatest comeback stories in the Bible.

Nehemiah rebuilds the walls in just 52 days. He restores worship. He leads people to repentance. He reestablishes order and justice. If the book ended at chapter 12, the story would be wrapped up all neat and tidy.

But then comes chapter 13.

“I confronted them and cursed them and beat some of them and pulled out their hair.”
— Nehemiah 13:25

Wait, what?! Pulled. Out. Their hair.

It’s like the guy who once rebuilt a city has completely unraveled. He’s gone from visionary leader to angry dad on a road trip who’s had one too many “Are we there yet?” moments.

I actually get it. By the end of his life, Nehemiah had spent years dealing with people who kept drifting back into the same disobedience he’d worked so hard to correct. In this moment, he’s not a villain—he’s just done. He’s exhausted, heartbroken, and maybe a little jaded.

But this is what haunts me: Nehemiah’s passion for holiness was still right, but his method crossed the line. He started out building walls of protection; he ended up building walls between himself and the people he loved.

And I think that’s what Doug was getting at in that stat. It’s not that 75% of leaders quit—it’s that somewhere along the way, they lose something essential. Their tenderness. Their humility. Their joy.

They stop leading out of love and start leading out of fear or frustration. They stop serving people and start managing problems. And bit by bit, the call that began with prayerful, passionate tears ends with fists clenched in anger.

That’s why Jesus’ example hits me so deeply. He faced more disappointment than anyone—betrayal, misunderstanding, exhaustion—but He never hardened. Even on the cross, He was still loving, still showing grace, still saying, “Father, forgive them.”

That’s finishing well.

Finishing well doesn’t mean you never struggle. It doesn’t mean you never feel like pulling someone’s hair out (figuratively, please). It means that, through it all—through the stress, the setbacks, the heartbreak—you keep your heart soft.

Maybe that’s the real question for all of us in leadership, ministry, or life:
Will we still be tender at the end of our story?
Will we still love people more than our plans?
Will we still see Jesus clearly, even when the work feels blurry?

Because at the end of the day, the goal isn’t just to build something great. It’s to become someone who looks more like Jesus when the story is over.

 

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