We know this deep down. We don’t need a textbook to tell us. It’s something built into our instincts. You wouldn’t trust a financial advisor who’s drowning in debt and doesn’t know how to manage his own money. That wouldn’t make sense. You wouldn’t follow a fitness coach who is morbidly obese and clearly hasn’t figured out nutrition or exercise. Not because they’re bad people, but because they haven’t lived the transformation they’re claiming to teach. We know this intuitively, but sometimes in mentorship, we forget. We get so eager to help someone else that we forget the first step is always personal. Before we can lead from strength, we must become strong inwardly. Before we can offer stability, we must become stable.

It’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking we can lead others through things we haven’t yet faced ourselves. But that’s not how transformation works. You can’t give someone what you don’t have. And no one is going to come to someone who is still full of pride, judgment, or self-righteousness and say, “Take me on the journey to grace.” You can’t teach what you haven’t lived. You can’t lead someone into faith righteousness while you’re still operating out of performance and religious pressure. Your words might be right, but your presence will feel off. Why? Because transformation isn’t about just knowing; it’s about embodying the truth.

Let me say this clearly: We do not teach rightly until we are being taught inwardly by God. That’s what gives your leadership authority. Not your knowledge. Not your title. Not your success. What gives your mentorship power is the evidence of your own journey; that you’ve let God take you from self-righteousness into a place of rest, identity, and trust in Him. The same way I have helped hundreds of men launch successful podcasts, not because I read a book about it, but because I’ve done it. I’ve lived it. I’ve faced the challenges, learned the patterns, and seen the results. Now I can speak with authority. Why would it be any different in mentorship?

Yet here’s the problem many of us face: we believe lies about what it means to be strong. We think we have to hide our struggles to help others. We think we need to be the hero. That we need to always appear put together. That we can’t be vulnerable if we want to be respected. But Jesus said something completely different. He said, “First…” First, what? First get healed. First get real. First remove the beam from your own eye. You cannot bring strength into your family, your business, or your ministry if you yourself are not standing on solid ground. There’s no version of this where an unstable man brings stability. That’s just not how it works.

You see, it’s only when you’ve opened yourself fully to God; your flaws, your flesh, your fears; that you begin to gain the strength to walk with others in their mess. If I’ve taken my shame and weaknesses to God and experienced His grace, then I know how to offer that same grace to someone else. If I’ve faced my darkness, I’m no longer afraid of someone else’s. But if I’ve been hiding from my own pain, I’ll run when theirs shows up. Or worse; I’ll shame them for it. And here’s what we all need to know: you can’t handle another man’s darkness until you’ve been honest about your own.

Let’s talk about darkness for a minute. Every one of us carries it. Pain. Addictions. Fears. Failures. But if those things are still controlling you, if they’re still kicking your butt day after day, then your focus should not be on helping others yet. Your focus should be healing. It’s not wrong to want to help others. But when helping becomes a distraction from your own pain, it becomes dangerous. I’ve seen it many times. I worked in a treatment center for almost a decade, and I watched it play out over and over again. Some people would fill their schedule with so many activities; meetings, jobs, relationships; anything to avoid facing their pain. They would help others to avoid helping themselves.