It's Okay to Pause

I almost called this post “It’s okay to not be okay”, but that phrase seemed a bit over-used of late. And I do believe that I’m okay. Still, last week was what I would call a humdinger - emergent pastoral needs, the death of an elder in the last church where I preached, the sudden death of a minister acquaintance Sunday and another leaving a church where there was pain and conflict. Add to that concern about family, Covid-19, hurricanes, wildfires and newsletter deadlines among other things and it was sizing up to be the recipe for a melt-down.

I went to the library Friday and borrowed On the Basis of Sex, the story of Ruth Bader Ginsburg, just before the news broke about her death. God sometimes works like that, pointing us to people and things we didn’t yet know that we needed. And having watched the movie, and reflected on how much adversity she overcame and how much she accomplished, I’m inspired once again to keep trucking despite the inevitable challenges, sadness and change around me. If you haven’t watched the film yet, I strongly recommend it.

I didn’t have that melt-down, and I’m hoping it’s not that I’m stuffing my emotions. No, I’m still allowing myself to feel, and have this past week with tough news and concern about many people and situations. Perhaps I’m getting wiser as I age, but I seem to be learning to have some boundaries around separating empathy from co-dependency in relationships, from caring but then being able to hand the situation over to God in faith rather than becoming absorbed and overwhelmed by it.

I will still try to make more opportunities to pause, because I don’t want to fall into a pitfall Carey Nieuwhof blogged about recently - that of not grieving losses in ministry and life. Because that catches up to us. So I need to pause, to slow down so much that I can confront and process each loss and concern of the last week and then be better able to face the next ones. Losses over the last several months have taken many forms - from a loss of autonomy and seeming control, to changes in work routines and relationships, to what it means to lead worship, to not being able to see friends and family. Those are all losses, some ongoing, that we need to process.

We all need to find some healthy ways to process loss. And we all know the not great options - drinking, over-eating, binge-watching tv, taking emotions out on others, and getting stuck in other dark patterns. I know I’m not getting enough sunshine, I could eat a bit better and exercise more, but I am happy that I’m sharing with a wonderful partner about what is happening in my world, that I’m working to detach from technology more often and to touch base with friends. I’m not a bubble bath type, but you may be. I hope to take some time tomorrow to just lie down and meditate as I listen to music, shutting everything else out for a bit.

Those of us in church leadership no doubt feel the weight of our calling and are seeing articles about clergy and worship leaders quitting or considering it because of how stressful this time has been. People anxious about what is happening or about health issues, grieving losses and worried about the future are leaning on us. We can feel the pressure to always be happy and peppy, leading the way, and certainly we need to be appropriate in interactions with those trusting in us. But we are not God or the Messiah. We are merely vessels of the Spirit needing to be replenished and filled by the divine. Happily we’re not responsible for what is happening with the pandemic. And we don’t have to be perfect or happy all the time. In fact, we are probably seen as having more integrity if we are real in our living.

My prayer in this busy time, with Covid-19 cases tracking upwards and the return to unsettled routines, is that we recognize the need to pause, to embrace true Sabbath, to slow down enough to remember that God is God and we are not. We are asked to care for ourselves well so that we can offer what we can, reliant on the power of the Spirit working through us and not just our own energy. May we acknowledge our own feelings and needs at the feet of Christ, hand over our burdens, and receive from God what God knows that we need.