Jethro, My Ancient Mentor

I’m currently in limbo, waiting to hear whether I got the new job, when my character study for the week lands on Jethro. Moses’ father‑in‑law, the desert priest, the man who steps into the story for a brief moment and somehow becomes the blueprint for sustainable leadership.

And even though he’s talking to Moses, it sure feels like he has a lot to say to me. In order for me to step into something new, I have to step out of something else. The role I have been in was literally custom-made for me. It was a massive job and I was gifted with the opportunity to do it under ideal conditions. It’s made it hard to even consider doing something else. But now that I’m on the threshold of transition, Jethro’s asking me- How did I do?

When the Calling Feels Like It’s All on You

Moses has been given a calling directly from God- a burning bush, an audible voice, signs and wonders- THE WORKS. If anyone ever had reason to believe the entire mission rested squarely on their shoulders, it was Moses.

But Jethro sees something Moses doesn’t. He sees the blessing of God on Moses and the people—and he praises God for it. Then he sees the impossibility of the role Moses has taken on. Not because the job is “too big,” but because it’s a different job altogether.

Moses had just completed a massive, miraculous assignment, but now he was stepping into governance rather than deliverance. The people didn’t just need a hero; they needed a system, and Moses didn’t intuitively know how to build one.

The Qualities That Matter Most

Jethro sees that Moses needs help and he lays out what to look for in helpers:

• Men of truth — people who actively do good
• Those who hate dishonest gain — people who actively resist corruption

It’s simple, but it’s brilliant.

And it made me pause.

Did I look for those same qualities when I hired my team? If not, then I may have left a ticking time bomb behind- an employee who is skilled, but of low moral character. That type of employee can become quite toxic, especially during transitions. If I did cultivate that type of team, then I’ve given my successor a gift—an inheritance of integrity.

Shared Standards Create Shared Stability

Jethro tells Moses to teach the people the statutes and laws. The law hasn’t even been given yet, but Jethro already knows: if there’s going to be harmony, everyone needs to be operating from the same foundation.

So I had to ask myself:

Did I set clear ground rules and ways of working for the team I’m leaving behind? If not, chaos will fill the vacuum the moment I step away. If I did, then they’ll keep moving forward with patience and stability until the right leader steps in.

Wisdom That Multiplies Impact

Jethro’s counsel isn’t just advice—it’s compassion, sustainability, and a structure that multiplies impact rather than bottlenecking it.

And so another question rises:

Did I lead my old team with genuine concern for their well‑being and the health of the organization? If I did, then I probably built a kind of “success factory”—a place where people thrive, where friction gets smoothed out, where growth is normal. If I didn’t, then the role I’m leaving behind may be on shaky ground, and the next leader will inherit the instability.

The Mentor Who Doesn’t Hover

But the thing about Jethro that always gets me is this: he leaves.

He doesn’t linger to supervise Moses. He doesn’t demand a seat on a council of elders. He doesn’t hover to make sure his advice “worked.”

He offers wisdom, blesses the work, and goes home. He moves on.

I have a hard time believing a mother-in-law would’ve done the same! 

There’s something holy about the way Jethro steps out of the story. It certainly stands in contrast to my early working life where, if I didn’t do it myself, it wasn’t getting done. There were some hard lessons learned (also based on Jethro’s counsel) earlier in my working life. But it also stands in contrast to where I’ve been more recently, considering shifting gears to something akin to “retiring in place” to coast on the hard work that got me to where I am and babysit my own legacy, if for no other reason than the opportunity has presented itself.

Healthy boundaries don’t just keep unnecessary work from hitting your plate, they also keep you from sitting at the table too long. I’ve resolved that “retiring in place” is not for me, but it leaves me with one final question before I transition to the new adventure:

Did I honor God in my old role as I should have? If I did, then I can step away clean—confident that the foundation is solid and the next chapter is aligned. I can be proud of all that I have done and not worry about it anymore. If there’s anything I overlooked or mishandled, then this is the moment to address it, because stepping out of the way is part of faithful leadership too.

The Quiet Courage of Letting Go

Jethro teaches me that leadership has two movements: stepping in and stepping out. Both require courage. Both require faith. Sometimes the holiest thing you can do is loosen your grip and trust God with the story you’ve helped shape.

So, as I wait in this in‑between place, I’m letting Jethro guide me—not toward grasping, but toward releasing. Not toward securing influence, but toward stewarding it well and then laying it down with integrity.

Whatever waits on the other side of this moment, I want to meet it with Jethro’s clarity: a song of praise for what God has done, a heart tuned to His present work, and a steady trust in the path He is unfolding.

For more on surrendering control and learning to let go, check out this Liturgy and guidance I use for my own benefit and through mentorship of others.