I was once told that a good leader is a good delegator. I’ve always remembered that. Someone who has good management skills is good at giving people jobs according to their abilities.
In the past few years I have had the opportunity to coordinate fairly large functions. From PTO events at school to large meals at church….yea that was me; serving soup to 900. It’s all in the delegation.
This morning I woke up with a massive panic attack. If I didn’t know myself (living in chronic anxiety) I would have thought it was a heart attack. My chest hurt, my left arm hurt, I was short of breath. You get the idea.
I was able to get myself under control; thinking of reasons why I would be in a panic.
I’m not going to list them here, but they should be fairly obvious if you follow my blog. I do need to realize I have quite a bit on my shoulders.
After taking the children to school and sitting down to read the Bible with a cup of coffee, hoping to relieve the anxiety, I realized reading wasn’t helping. I needed to pray. I needed a nice, long chat with Jesus.
I ran upstairs and knelt by my bed. I closed my eyes and went to the place in my mind where I always meet Jesus. Flopping my head into His lap and crying, He patted my back, smiling down at me. As I was talking to Him, I decided to start naming everything I was stressing about.
As I was listing everything off I realized that I was doing what I do when I have a lot going on. I make a list. I figure what is most important and get it done. I also delegate to my children what I can to ease the stress of my list.
During my talk with Jesus, I realized that everything I was naming off were things I had no control over. (I realize that technically we don’t have control over anything…but for example: a messy house is stressing me out….that I can fix: I clean it up)
In listing my problems and asking for a solution I realized that I need to just delegate them all to the only one who can do these tasks anyhow.
As I handed over everything to Jesus the tightness in my chest slowly faded away. My arm doesn’t hurt, I can freely breathe, and my heart doesn’t feel like there is a knife through the center of it.
I’m sure you can tell that I am entirely too Type ‘A’ personality, which most likely is the etiology of the majority of my anxiety. I need to let go and let God handle it. Or in my terms: Delegate it to the One who is best suited for the job: Christ.