Behind the System 002 · September 7, 2026 · 6 min read
What do you do with the people who aren’t ready yet?
This past Sunday I went to church.
And before I ever heard a word from the pastor, I started watching the system.
I know. Probably not what I was supposed to be paying attention to. 😂
But stay with me.
Depending on the size of your church, the experience starts before you ever walk through the doors.
Somebody helps you park.
Somebody opens the door.
“Good morning.”
There’s coffee. Water. Maybe snacks.
Parents are checking their kids in while somebody on the other side of the counter is giving those kids a high five like they’ve been waiting all week to see them.
There are people answering questions.
People giving directions.
Ushers helping families find seats.
There were five of us today.
Someone helped us find five seats together.
Then worship starts.
The message comes.
Announcements are made.
And eventually there’s an invitation.
Join a small group.
Get connected.
Serve.
Come to an event.
Meet somebody.
Raise your hand.
After service, I watched people doing exactly that.
And then I watched everybody else.
They just walked out.
Nothing wrong with that.
Nobody needs to be chased through the parking lot with a clipboard.
But something about it wouldn't leave me alone.
Because the church had just put an incredible amount of effort into receiving those people.
And after all of those touchpoints, somebody may simply go home.
No small group.
No connection card.
No volunteer signup.
No obvious next step.
I followed the experience. Then I watched people leave.
Here's what got me:
They might come back next Sunday.
And the Sunday after that.
Maybe for six months.
Maybe a year.
And one Sunday, that person who has been walking straight to their car finally walks over to the table.
Something may have been moving the entire time.
We just couldn't see it.
“Not Yet” Doesn't Mean Nothing Is Happening
That made me think about some of the people I've talked to in business.
I've had prospects where I knew I could help.
We talked about the problem.
I asked questions.
Tried to remove barriers.
They agreed something needed to change.
Then...
Nothing.
A few weeks later, we'd talk again.
Still interested.
Still dealing with the same thing.
Still not ready.
Three or four months later, we're basically standing in the same place.
And if I'm being fair, something starts happening to me during that process.
Initially, I'm thinking:
How can I help this person?
Eventually, I start thinking:
Why can't I get this person to move?
That's different.
I've helped somebody else with this problem.
That person moved.
Why isn't this person moving?
Did I explain it wrong?
Did I ask the wrong question?
Do I need another follow-up?
And if you're not careful, eventually you start thinking:
Maybe something is wrong with them.
I've done that.
And I think there's some arrogance buried in it.
Because I've taken somebody else's pace and made it evidence of my ability—or their willingness.
When the truth is, I have no idea what else they're carrying.
Money.
Relationships.
Health.
Fear.
Status.
Embarrassment.
Sometimes the chaos you know still feels safer than the change you don't.
And sometimes you can see what somebody could become so clearly that you start wanting it more than they do.
That's where helping can quietly become something else.
No visible action doesn't mean no movement.
You Can Own the Invitation Without Owning the Response
I heard something at church that helped me think about this differently.
The message talked about responsibility through four things:
Proximity. Passion. Position. Obedience.
How close am I to the need?
Do I care about it?
What am I actually positioned to do?
And what is mine to execute on?
That last part matters.
Because I can care about your transformation.
I can see something in you.
I can give you tools.
I can tell you what I've seen.
I can remove unnecessary barriers.
I can create another way for you to hear something you weren't ready to hear the first time.
But I still don't own your decision.
I can own the invitation without owning the response.
Maybe that's something church can teach business.
Not how to follow up forever.
Not how to chase somebody until they finally give in.
Something almost opposite:
How to let the invitation remain without letting the pressure remain.
The pastor doesn't stop preaching because the person in row 17 didn't respond last Sunday.
But he also doesn't follow them to the parking lot asking:
“Okay... how about now?”
There is room for not yet.
We Love What We Can Count
This is where I think it gets interesting.
Businesses love transactions because transactions are visible.
Booked.
Bought.
Signed.
Renewed.
Upgraded.
Churches have visible things too.
Joined.
Gave.
Served.
Registered.
Joined a small group.
Those things matter.
But they're not necessarily the transformation.
Someone can join a small group and still feel alone.
Someone can volunteer every Sunday and be exhausted.
A business owner can hit $10 million and still own a company that controls their entire life.
Someone can buy exactly what you're selling and never become what they hoped the purchase would help them become.
A transaction can be part of transformation without being proof of transformation.
We measure this... and assume it means this.
And the reverse matters too.
A person who hasn't transacted yet isn't necessarily standing still.
Maybe that's what I was watching at church.
Then I Started Thinking About the System
Because now there's another question.
What happens when that person finally raises their hand?
Maybe six months ago they requested information.
Three months ago they attended something.
Last month they asked a question.
Today they finally say:
I'm ready.
Does the organization know any of that?
Or does the person have to begin again?
Churches collect pieces of people's stories everywhere.
A child gets checked in.
Someone gives.
Someone requests prayer.
Someone attends an event.
Someone joins a group.
Someone volunteers.
Someone says, “Not right now.”
Businesses do the same thing.
A prospect downloads something.
Replies to an email.
Takes a call.
Explains their problem.
Comes back three months later.
Talks to somebody else.
Each interaction tells you a little more.
But if those pieces don't travel, the organization keeps meeting the same person for the first time.
A mission without memory makes people keep reintroducing themselves.
And this is where I think we have to be careful.
I'm not saying track everything somebody does.
Please don't turn Sunday morning into airport surveillance because of something I wrote. 😂
People deserve space.
Sometimes I want to walk into a store, hear “Can I help you?”, say “No, I'm good,” and be left completely alone.
But giving somebody room isn't the same as forgetting their story.
Especially when they chose to give you a piece of it.
Maybe the Mission Is the Test
That's what I keep coming back to.
If your mission ends at the transaction, this is easy.
Get the signup.
Get the sale.
Get the donation.
Get the volunteer.
Get the renewal.
Move to the next person.
But if the mission is transformation, things get messier.
Because transformation has its own clock.
And you don't control all of it.
Your responsibility isn't to pursue somebody until they transform.
It's to keep creating ways for transformation to remain accessible when they're ready.
Keep the door open.
Keep useful resources available.
Keep finding ways to communicate the truth.
Remember enough of the journey that someone doesn't have to start from zero when they return.
And stay clear about which part belongs to you and which part belongs to them.
Because maybe the question underneath all of this isn't really about church.
And it isn't really about sales.
It's this:
Do we actually have a mission, or are we just interested in the transaction?
And if your mission really is transformation...
what does your organization do with the people who aren't ready for the transaction yet?
Try This
Find five people who told your company “not yet” sometime in the last six months.
Don't contact them.
Don't sell them anything.
Just look.
What does your company actually remember about their story?
What did they want?
What was getting in the way?
Who talked to them?
What happened next?
If they came back tomorrow and said, “Okay. I'm ready,” would your company know where the conversation left off?
Or would they have to introduce themselves all over again?
That might tell you something about whether your system was built around the transaction...
or the mission.
—
Touré
P.S. Think about somebody who told you “not yet” and eventually came back.
What changed?
I have a feeling there are some good stories hiding there.
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