Out of Position

“Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.”
Abraham Lincoln

“We all wear masks, and the time comes when we cannot remove them without removing some of our own skin.”
André Berthiaume

“It is not only what we do, but also what we do not do, for which we are accountable.”
Molière

“No man can long occupy a position for which he is not fit.”
Seneca

“Every man has his own vocation. The talent is the call.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson

In our blog, The Boy, The Giant, and The Ordinary Armor, we saw what happens when a person refuses to carry what was never meant for them. David knew better than to step onto the battlefield in Saul’s armor—he cast it off, choosing instead to fight with what had been tested in his own hands. But not everyone recognizes when they are wearing something that does not fit. Some press forward, convinced that if they force themselves into the role long enough, it will become theirs. But the weight does not get lighter. The misalignment does not settle. And in the end, no matter how well they adjust the straps or how confident they appear, what does not fit will always fail them. There are few burdens heavier than carrying a mantle never meant for you. A title, a position, a platform—these can all be taken, assumed, even bestowed. But the weight of the role itself? That cannot be borrowed, cannot be worn like an ill-fitted armor without consequence. Some manage to hold the position long enough to convince themselves it belongs to them. Others crumble beneath it, the cracks running jagged and wide, exposing what should have never been covered. There is something uneasy about misalignment. It gnaws. It unsettles. And in the end, no matter how much effort is poured into appearances, no matter how tightly hands grasp at the reins, the truth remains: A person out of place will never find rest in the seat they were never meant to fill.

When Position Becomes the Prize
Not everyone forcing themselves into a role does so with arrogance. Some step in because they were told they should. Others mistake personal love for God’s leading, assuming that passion alone is proof of calling. And then there are those who hunger—not for the work, not for the sacrifice, but for the presence, the attention, the seat at the table. Whatever the reason, whatever the route taken, one thing is certain: The moment position becomes the goal, the calling is already lost. King Saul stands as a warning, not just of failure, but of misalignment. Israel wanted a king—one who looked the part, one who commanded presence, one who made them feel powerful in the eyes of the nations. And Saul fit the image. He was chosen by God—not because he carried the substance of kingship, but because he fit the shape of Israel’s desire, a response to their hunger for an earthly display of strength. But beneath their request lay something far deeper—a rejection of God’s rule (1 Samuel 8:7). They did not simply ask for a king; they asked to be like the nations around them. And so, they were given a man who met their expectations but not their need. A man placed on a throne but never built for its weight. For a time, it seemed enough. He had his victories, his moments of brilliance, flashes of what could have been. But flashes do not sustain a foundation. A man can only live so long on borrowed grace. The unraveling came in the waiting, in the testing, in the moments where patience and obedience would have proven the heart. Saul could not wait for Samuel. He could not trust the unseen timing of God (1 Samuel 13:8-14). Presumption cost him the kingship. Saul did not simply act in haste—he acted in self-reliance, stepping into a role not given to him. The throne had been granted, but the priesthood had not. And when commanded to destroy Amalek, he spared what should have been slain, measuring obedience by his own judgment rather than by the word of the Lord (1 Samuel 15:9). Fear, insecurity, the need to hold on rather than surrender—these became his defining traits. God had given him the position, but he had never truly carried the call. Saul was not God’s original plan; he was what the people had asked for in their spiritual rebellion. A king after their own heart, not God’s. And so, when the anointing left Saul, he held on, clinging to a kingdom that had already been torn from him (1 Samuel 13:14). This is the danger when leadership becomes about preserving authority rather than fulfilling God’s purpose. Jesus warned of those who “love the place of honor at feasts and the best seats in the synagogues, and greetings in the marketplaces and being called rabbi by others” (Matthew 23:6- 7, ESV). Proverbs 16:18 is also clear: “Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall” (ESV). Clinging to power when the anointing has departed does not preserve influence—it ensures destruction. This is what happens when a man fights for a seat he was never meant to keep. The position becomes the prize, and everything else—integrity, obedience, even the well-being of those under him—becomes secondary.

The Damage of Misplaced Authority
Scripture warns that leadership is not to be taken lightly. James 3:1 reminds us, “Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness” (ESV). 1 Timothy 3:6 cautions against appointing the spiritually immature, lest they become puffed up with conceit and fall into condemnation. Authority is not merely a position—it is a weight. And when carried by those unprepared for it, the weight does not just crush the bearer; it damages all who must live under its strain. A person out of position does not simply struggle—they cause others to struggle. When someone who should be supporting takes the lead, when someone who should be teaching takes to governing, when someone who should be serving demands to be followed, the natural order is disrupted. Those who could have thrived under proper leadership instead flounder under misdirection. Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 12:18, “But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as He chose” (ESV). When we step outside of where God has placed us, we step outside of His design. The misplaced person may even be blind to the problem, believing that passion or good intentions justify their presence. But God’s order is not dictated by human preference—it is dictated by His will. How many times have we seen ministries struggle under the weight of leaders who were never meant to lead? How many times has a church suffered under someone who could speak well but could not shepherd? How many times have people suffered under someone who cared deeply but could not impart knowledge and understanding? How many times have families been misled because a voice was elevated beyond its grace?

Blindness or Willful Ignorance?
There is a difference between being unaware and choosing not to see. Some people do not recognize that they are out of position. They have never been challenged to self-examine, and have never been asked to consider whether they truly carry the grace for what they are doing. Others, however, know deep down that they are misaligned but refuse to step aside because doing so would mean losing the prominence they have come to love. Pride is deceptive. It convinces people that admitting they are not fit for a role is the same as failing. But the real failure is remaining in a place where one does not belong. True humility does not cling to a position simply because it is difficult to let go. True wisdom recognizes when stepping down is an act of obedience rather than a defeat.

The Call to Self-Examination
Paul wrote in Romans 12:3 (ESV), “For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned.” Sober judgment. An honest assessment. A willingness to recognize when you are not where you are supposed to be. Are you truly fit for the position you occupy, or do you love the idea of it more than the calling itself? Do you long for the platform more than the responsibility? Are you ignoring the damage your misalignment is causing simply because stepping aside would mean stepping into the unknown? This is not a condemnation, but an invitation. An invitation to realign, to step fully into what God has actually graced you for. There is no shame in realizing you were meant for something else. The shame lies in refusing to acknowledge it.

Dear reader, are you in a place where you are simply filling a role rather than fulfilling a calling? Are you holding onto something because of the position, rather than the purpose? Saul’s greatest failure was not in being chosen but in not recognizing when the anointing had left him. The tragedy was not that he was king, but that he fought to remain king when the time had come to let go. The tragedy of misplaced position is not just personal; it is collective. It is the church, the community, the family that suffers when someone remains where they were never meant to be. But the beauty of realignment is that when you step into your actual calling, you free others to do the same. Will you have the courage to ask yourself the difficult questions? Will you seek sober judgment and honest self- reflection? Will you value obedience over prominence, calling over platform, effectiveness over visibility? God’s design is perfect. When each person operates in the place they were created for, the whole body flourishes. But when ambition, pride, or fear drive us to positions we were never meant to hold, we not only miss our own calling but hinder others from stepping into theirs. So, the question remains: Are you where you are supposed to be? And if not, will you have the courage to move?”