Mission, Margin, & Meaning

Last time, we explored how growth stretches us forward, grit carries us through, and grounding keeps us steady. But even grounded leaders can drift if they lose sight of mission. Mission gives direction. Without it, grit becomes aimless effort, and growth can chase the wrong horizon.

Jim Collins wrote in Good to Great, “Good is the enemy of great.” Most derailments don’t come from bad decisions. They come from good opportunities that are not the right ones. That is mission drift.

Drift rarely announces itself. It is not a catastrophic leap. It is a slow slide. A pro says yes to more meetings, more reports, more tasks that look productiv,e but pull them away from what matters. Busyness begins to feel like progress. Over time, the passion that launched the career gets buried under spreadsheets. The mission to grow the game and shape lives becomes blurred.

Pilots understand this. A plane off by one degree can land hundreds of miles from its intended destination. At first, the difference is invisible. Left unchecked, it becomes costly. The same principle applies to leadership.

Apollo 13 provides a clear example. Midway to the moon, an explosion crippled the spacecraft. The mission shifted from landing to survival. Every decision focused on recalibration. Flight paths were recalculated. Resources were rationed. Alignment mattered. What brought them home was not panic or frantic motion. It was clarity. A steady return to mission.

Proverbs 4:25–27 puts it plainly: “Let your eyes look straight ahead; fix your gaze directly before you. Give careful thought to the paths for your feet… do not turn to the right or the left.” Drift is not destiny, but only if we recognize it early and realign.

I’ve felt this at home. It is easy to confuse serving the mission with responding to the noise around it. I say yes too often. I postpone conversations. I let my attention split when Holli is sharing something important. None of it feels catastrophic in the moment. That is what makes drift dangerous. Over time, the misalignment becomes visible in relationships. I am learning to notice it sooner and correct it before it compounds.

Meaning adds another layer. Abraham Lincoln once said, “I am not bound to win, but I am bound to be true.” Mission tells us where we’re going. Margin protects us from overload. But meaning reminds us that truth matters most, that impact without integrity is hollow. Chasing peace alone can make us passive. Holding to truth, even at a cost, ensures our mission matters.

Here is what I’ve learned. Mission directs us. Margin protects us. Meaning anchors us.

1. Work: Write your mission in one sentence. Put it somewhere visible. Ask whether today’s priorities reflect it.

2. Home: Take ten quiet minutes this week and ask honestly, “Where am I drifting?” Name it before your family feels it.

3. Mentorship: Share a story of drift you have corrected with someone you trust. Seek their feedback.

4. Leadership: Review your team’s calendar. Are their hours moving the mission forward or circling noise? Adjust one thing this week.

5. Personal audit: Journal, “What truth am I tempted to avoid for the sake of peace?” Decide what pursuing meaning looks like.

My Commitment

I have noticed how easily busyness can blur the mission of serving PGA Members with clarity and care. In these weeks ahead, I am rebuilding margin in my calendar. Not simply for efficiency, but so mission and meaning remain central. That means protecting time with Members, with my family, and with God’s Word so drift does not steal direction.

Next time, we will explore how legacy, love, and lasting impact turn today’s investments into tomorrow’s inheritance.