Inspect What You Expect!

I’ll start with a confession.

I’ve been guilty of laying out my expectations, for my team, for others, even for myself, and then forgetting to check in. It doesn’t matter how big or small the expectations are. I coach for outcomes, imagine growth, dream of excellence at every level… and then, at times, just assume that it will all come together on its own.

I expect movement without measurement. Hope without inspection.

It’s a bummer to admit, because I like to lead with excellence. That said, I don't always get it right. Maybe you’ve been there too. You expect action, next steps, results, consistency, or progress, from yourself, from others, from life, yet you rarely stop to ask, “Is it actually happening?”

In other words, you plant seeds and walk away, trusting that a fruit tree will grow, as an illustration, but you never water the soil or tend to the tree. How’s that working out for you?

That’s why this phrase has been working on me lately: Inspect what you expect.

It sounds like a management cliché, but I’m convinced it’s deeply spiritual.

“You can expect what you inspect.” — W. Edwards Deming

I love this quote. Deming wasn’t just talking about factory floors, he was naming something deeply human. Life doesn’t respond to silent expectations. It just doesn’t. Life responds to clarity, accountability, and grace.

To be clear, hope is not a strategy. Let's make this personal. A few months ago, I found myself frustrated with my writing. I expected flow, rhythm, and inspiration… but none came. I was hoping something would happen. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

Then it hit me. I wasn’t even showing up!

I had no prep routine.

No dedicated space.

No rhythm that told my mind, “It’s time to create.”

I was expecting fruit without tending the tree.

Once again, I realized: hope is not a strategy.

Then I asked myself a simple question: “What’s getting in the way?” That question became my inspection. I wasn’t harsh about it. God knows that I can be my own worst critic. Still, I was curious. I really wanted to figure this out!

That curiosity led to small but powerful shifts:

• A set writing time, right after my devotion time...in the morning.

• A checklist item to hold myself accountable. Simple bullet point cheklist.

• And, BTW, a gentle reminder from my daughter Hannah (also a writer): “Dad, it doesn't have to be perfect. Just write it down. Edit later.”

That was grace. And that grace turned hope into habit. Because while hope isn’t a strategy, habits are. Habits are the backbone of strategy.

Think about the gardener. The same principle shows up everywhere. Take my wife, for example. She planted tomatoes last spring, and by late summer, we enjoyed homemade salsa. But between planting and harvest, she was constantly inspecting, watering, weeding, watching for and fighting off pests (and trust me, South Carolina has plenty).

If she skipped all that, disappointment would be inevitable. Expectation without inspection is just wishful thinking. Growth requires tending. Are you with me so far?

Even Jesus modeled this. He didn’t lead passively. He asked questions, invited reflection, probed motives, and challenged hearts, and all that he did was loaded with grace.

Develop a rhythm of progress. What if we practiced that same rhythm,

the balance between clarity and compassion? What if we named our expectations, checked on them regularly, and adjusted with humility instead of frustration?

Here’s a simple rhythm that’s helping me both personally and professionally:

1. Name it. Write the expectation down.

2. Inspect it. Ask, “Is this happening?”

3. Adjust it. With grace, not guilt. Give yourself a break.

4. Invite accountability. Find someone honest and kind who will hold you to it.

5. Celebrate progress. Even small wins deserve joy. Because when you celebrate what’s working, you multiply it. You become what you celebrate.

6. Begin again. One last grace bullet for you. You're going to mess up. Begin again. Just keep showing up!

Finally, it's not about micromanaging your life. It’s about managing life with care and responsibility. In other words, we gotta tend the garden before blaming the weather.

The invitation. So here’s my challenge to you (and to myself): Be brave enough to inspect, and bold enough to expect. When we do that, we align our hopes with our habits. We move from wishing to growing. And remember that Grace is always available, present and patient and ready to develop you, and me, and those that we lead.

That’s certainly been true for me. Peace and love to you. ~ Paul