Growing up, I became used to hearing parents and teachers and coaches refer to me as “a natural-born leader.” I made up silly dance routines in my bedroom and taught them to girls in the neighborhood, after hounding my dad to videotape us. I organized lemonade sales and bossed my little brother around until he grew to a foot taller than I. I served in the special needs Sunday School class at church, helping older kids get through normal, infantile routines. One of my high school teachers recently ran into my mom and described how she used to watch my face, to gauge the rest of the class. She said if I could turn around and explain the concept to someone, then she was on the right track.
I’m serving as a community leader for the upcoming Influence Conference.
The problem is, I don’t feel like a leader. My strengths lie in performing and educating and empowering, but I’m an introvert. I don’t seek out relationships that put me in charge. I’m uncomfortable volunteering information that makes me look like an expert. I pray for the floor to swallow me up every time someone shares the fact that I have five kids, or that I’m the worship leader’s wife. I honestly hate the spotlight. I prefer to wait for people to come to me, so that I know that I’m not bothering them – that they honestly want to hear my opinion. I prefer people to ask me questions, so that I can simply share my own experience. One of my favorite phrases is, “It’s what works for me.” This applies to everything from parenting to natural living to finances to nursing practice to style. One of my worst fears is for this blog to become a “know-it-all-show-and-tell hour.”
But I’m learning that my fear of approval and aversion to leadership don’t really matter. Because where I am weak, there He is strong. Even Moses eventually stopped fighting the Lord (and his speech problems), in order to step into his calling and lead an entire nation out of slavery. So if all God wants me to do is be an example and a helper in different areas of my personal life? Fine then! I’ll count it all joy. Just know that it isn’t always easy. Or fun.