We have this one quiet conversation over the dull roar of women chatting. The two of us introverts sharing anxiety about the leadership position we’ve found ourselves in. A table of about eight women under our care. Our responsibility is to facilitate discussion among both introverts and extroverts alike.
It’s a wonder that we were put in these places.
“Sometimes I just think play dates are so exhausting. I get everyone dressed and myself ready. We drive somewhere and the kids have a ball and nap well afterward. So maybe it’s worth it. But I’m just so drained.” She whispers to me.
I nod understanding. “I feel the same way. Most times I leave playdates fighting tears, wondering why I came at all. I didn’t have a single meaningful conversation.” I pause. “It’s so hard because I think the other women feel like I’m stuck up or judgmental, but really I just don’t know how to enter into that social world. It scares me so much.”
“That’s exactly it!” She replies. The meeting is being called to order so we find seats at our tables where we’ll lead at introverts in an extrovert valuing world. There’s comfort knowing that both of us will be burnt out from this activity, this calling to lead, this wounding (real or perceived) from the relationships in our lives.
We who always try to sit at the fringe and wishing that we could relate easily are being stretched and grown in a position of leadership. It’s uncomfortable. It brings fear.
I smile encouraging at her before the meeting starts. We’re going to grow during this season. It’s going to be exhausting.
But He will walk with us.
(Just a reminder to myself mostly as I sit at a table again to lead women tomorrow morning. He will walk with me.)