“I value my Christian testimony too highly to tell people off,” he once told a friend.

From another post near the frozen foods he watched Ethel, his problem checker. Ethel’s customer relations were good, but she could never balance her money drawer. He really ought to take her away from cash handling, but then she’d resent being transferred.

He didn’t quite get to frozen foods before the head of the baked-goods department stopped him. ”We’re over on bread, Gil,” the fellow said. “‘We’ll have to cut to half price to sell it out before closing.”

Black wondered how a man could be so dumb about gauging the needs of his department.

Everyone at the store thought Gil Black was a very nice man to work for, but a slow burn was going on inside him. He never found fault; he simply swallowed his discontent.

But what was this bottled-up resentment doing to him? At home, he was crabby; he lashed out at his family in even the smallest matters.

“Why am I so nice to people at the store and so mean to my family?” he asked me.

Was he being nice to his employees by not addressing their mistakes? He concealed his anger at the store, but like an overloaded steam boiler, he blew his top at home.

“You’re a Christian,” I said. “You need to learn the meaning of 2 Corinthians 9:8, “And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.”

”Why not be just as gracious as you appear to be?” I asked.

He had never thought of it that way. In Christ, grace was available for him to meet every situation honestly and graciously. Now Gil no longer swallows his anger and makes his family suffer for it. Instead, in a gracious manner that stems from a duly gracious spirit, which he sought and received from God, he lets people know what he expects of them. He now runs his store with a firmness that has increased his stature as a manager and a Christian.

The names and certain details in this true case history have been changed to protect each person’s identity and privacy.

“Why, I bet I have to tell them three times before they fill out their repair tickets right or turn out a light they’re through using,” he raged.

Mr. Morgan had come to me from a sickbed. Every month or so he had to quit work. His stomach pained him; he was short of breath; he couldn’t eat. He would blow up at the garage and go home.

As we talked, he unburdened himself. Not only did things go wrong in the garage, but at home and at church, too. The baby’s crying upset him. The teachers in his Sunday school department were slow in putting through desired changes.

From his story, I learned that John Morgan never had much confidence in himself. As an expert mechanic working for someone else or in the ranks as a church worker, he had known how things should be done and he did them, to near perfection. When other workers fumbled, he would stew but say nothing. Even when asked for advice, he choked on the words in his throat.

This stemmed from his childhood, it turned out, when his mother and father never asked nor accepted his opinion, and they silenced him when he tried to express one. His conclusion was: “I can’t afford to open my mouth or I’ll get hurt.”

John Morgan saved his money and one day bought the garage. About the same time, the baby came, and he was appointed a departmental superintendent in the Sunday school. Now at work, he had to give orders. At church he had to give directions. His wife expected him to help in the decisions concerning the baby. What he had wanted to do all these years, he had the opportunity for, but no one paid much attention!

I reminded him that as a mechanic, it had been hard for him to do his job someone else’s way, and now it was hard for others to work his way.

Together we worked out a definition of supervision: The enforcement of a standard set by proper authority. Why was supervision necessary? Because people always fall short of the standard. It is human nature to miss the mark. Isaiah said everyone has turned “to his own way.” The psalmist said, “There is none that doeth good, no, not one.”

Supervision wasn’t simple or soon accomplished, but a steady, delicate task. As John Morgan learned and looked to God for patience, his blowups and sick days decreased drastically. And his effectiveness as a leader grew.

The names and certain details in this true case history have been changed to protect each person’s identity and privacy.