An Unapologetic Reluctant Leader

by Ricca Dimalibot, CCVI

Ricca Dimalibot, CCVI, is a member of the Sisters of Charity of

the Incarnate Word, Houston, and currently serves as the

Assistant Congregational Leader. After professing her First

Vows in 2003, she earned an MA in Theology. She is a Fellow

of the American Academy of Family Physicians. Following her

Final Profession of Vows, she was missioned to Kenya and

Guatemala. She ministers at CHRISTUS Point of Light Clinic,

providing care to the uninsured and underserved.

This reflection was originally published in the Leadership Collaborative's free e-book Leaders of Hope. Click here to download a free copy.

I was never terribly fond of taking the reins. I am reluctant to be on stage; that is just not my thing. I’d instead work on the sidelines like a worker bee and use my instinctive organizational skills; that's where I could truly shine. Let somebody else make speeches while I color-code chaos in laminated spreadsheets, craft algorithms, and ensure everyone is on task.  

Like many Filipino families, my parents decided I would go to medicine from the time of my first report card. In the Philippines, being a dutiful daughter is a virtue and openly acknowledging your strengths and talents is frowned upon. If I even thought about bragging, I imagine my mom would have popped out of nowhere to humble me, saying quickly, "Ay nako, ‘wag kang mayabang (Oh no, don’t be a brag).” Though I never questioned my parents’ expectations for my future, becoming a doctor eventually grew on me and afforded me the opportunity to exercise some boldness in moving thousands of miles to the U.S. to jumpstart my career path. I felt desperate to succeed, both to pay my bills and fulfill my parents’ expectations. 

It's weird how, while chasing dreams, I managed to stumble onto a divine calling. I thought, “Why not also chase a religious vocation?” It still took a couple of years of discernment before I entered religious life. What I did not anticipate was that becoming a sister would also come with an automatic “leader badge,” which made me nervous. I began sensing that people appeared to think I knew where I was going, what I was doing, and why, and not the truth that my own GPS was still constantly recalculating.  

There are all kinds of presumptions about us sisters, like we’ve got a hotline to heaven or are pillars of unfailing virtue. As an intern, after I made my First Vows, I was still learning how to be a sister and diagnose strep throat at the same time. Everywhere I turned, I felt that people – both in and outside the hospital – were expecting me to save their souls and clear their sinuses without missing a beat! I guess they figured that being spirit-led meant I was moonlighting as a saint on weekends and a martyr on holidays. If they only knew that, while seemingly at the helm of matters of both body and soul, I prayed daily that I wouldn’t steer the ship into an iceberg.    

Fast forward to today, as I serve in a leadership role within my congregation, I have discovered that the role can be hair-raising and uncertain, especially when I find myself navigating situations where I have neither the skill nor experience to guide others through unchartered or challenging waters. Another congregational leader took the words out of my mouth during a Zoom meeting one day when she quipped, “Is there any part of my job that is not a research experiment?” Leaders also often become the default containers for blame when things fall apart. Mistakes and failed decisions have doubled my fears, doubts, and reluctance about my ability to lead effectively.  

Leadership stretches me, confronts me, and reveals my strengths and weaknesses. I go through cycles of touting my love for God with pumped-up words, yet I often forget to live out that love with the people Jesus so deeply loves when situations are difficult or my plans and intentions become more complicated. I claim to place my trust and hope in God, but I flinch when it comes to challenging oppressive structures. In prayer, I tell Jesus he is the center of my life, yet my mind is overcrowded with restless thoughts. Technology inundates my attention span, which, whether I like it or not, has eroded and continues to restructure my cognitive compass, a preoccupation I have been working diligently to suppress. I hide behind static religious tenets, making them my excuse for labeling people; in doing so, I miss the richness of the lived experiences of fellow travelers whom I fail to recognize as co-seekers of self-transcendence. These would be temptations on any given day, but much more in the crucible of deadlines, task lists, meetings, and challenging decisions that come with being a leader.  

In time, all my near-misses, slip-ups, and challenges have become my best teachers. Sometimes, things just don’t work out or make sense, but those are the moments worth living for! After all, where would the joy be in things turning out exactly how I wanted them? That would be playing small, which is not God’s purpose for me. To live fully and lead, I must stay grounded and engaged with the world through contemplation while striving to be an authentic imitator of Jesus, hoping to be like him. If I’m not questioning the purpose and meaning of what I am doing, is being a leader worth enduring? If struggles don’t make me better, then what are they for? To experience pure joy, I must also taste gnawing suffering and pain. Sure, there are often tough days when I ask myself, “What did I sign up for?” But then there are those days when I think, “I’d do this all over again.” 

Moments of profound uncertainty in leadership and in life are inevitable. When I feel utterly worn out and empty, when even the thought of taking risks, of making decisions, feels overwhelming, I offer my struggles to God until a flicker of insight dawns. During my most lucid time of prayer, I am convinced that I am precisely where God wants me to be. In those times, I ask Jesus, “Why did you give me such a heavy load?” And I hear him answer, “Because I am in love with you.” Jesus has a piercingly tender way of showing his love, touching me at the core of who I am. Jesus reminds me that he calls me every day not because of what I can do but because of who I am and who he made me. Perhaps the world, perhaps Jesus, needs my flaws and my vulnerability to ignite conversion and evoke the transformation God desires. 

 To lead with love means letting go of the need to always be right, embracing discomfort, wrestling with ambiguity, and being prepared to be told when I am wrong. These are challenges I continue to struggle with.

These are challenges I continue to struggle with. I often remind myself that leadership isn’t about having all the answers; sometimes, simply showing up, listening, and holding hands will be enough. In those moments, being genuinely present can mean everything. There will be times when creating space for reconciliation and communion suffices while waiting for God’s design to slowly unfold. Experience has taught me that deep and intimate connections are the foundations of meaningful, lasting relationships. Heart-to-heart conversations are like spiritual workouts for my soul, challenging yet intensely rewarding. As a leader, I am called to be a bearer of hope, trusting that the vision still has its time and will surely come in God’s appointed hour.  

My life will always feel incomplete because only God can make me whole. When I lean solely on my strength, my reluctance to lead often surfaces, leaving me questioning whether my dreams are bold enough or my vision clear enough. Yet, when I surrender my anxieties to God, I experience a deep and abiding peace. I am reminded that nothing I do is possible apart from the grace of Jesus working in and through me. Therefore, when things go well, there is no doubt – it has to be God’s hand at work! 

I cannot fulfill my life’s purpose alone, nor can I fully realize God’s purpose through my leadership in isolation. It is only through God’s unmerited love and mercy that I’ve come to understand what an extraordinary privilege it is to be a leader. It is an opportunity to keep visions alive, ask courageous questions, dare to draw outside the lines, and create what has never been done before while taking inspiration from Jesus, the ultimate leader. Spiritual leadership is not something I can manufacture; it is a gift given only by the Holy Spirit. Where I fall short, God fills the gap. My part is to offer myself – flawed and incomplete – as an instrument in God’s hand. With every chisel blow of my Maker, I am lovingly recreated and shaped into the servant leader God intends me to be. 

A profound awakening is stirring within religious life – a groundswell of renewal and possibility. We need spiritual leaders who faithfully discern the signs of the times and recognize this pivotal moment. If we delay, we risk reacting from a place of anxiety when we stand at the precipice of crisis rather than responding now in the abundance of God’s grace. This moment calls for leadership that can shape and articulate our shared imagination for the future of religious life. Without this collective dream, we imperil our way of life and miss opportunities to fulfill God’s mission. Rooted in a deep sense of radical interconnectedness, I trust in our global sisterhood to provide strength, support, and prayers for resilience. Together, let us embrace this transformative journey and nurture the flourishing of our lives consecrated to God. 

For reflection questions, please download the free e-book Leaders of Hope.