Thursday, May 24, 2012


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.      

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