A little over a year ago I stepped into my first pastoral appointment. I’ve spent the last 365 days leading worship, preaching, doing pastoral care, attending committee meetings (lots of committee meetings), completing paperwork (lots of paperwork), and all around learning about how life works as a pastor. This year has stretched me in more ways than I ever imagined. I have preached more, laughed more, claimed “I don’t know” more, cried more, stared into nothing waiting for inspiration more, researched “Methodist polity” more, and loved more in the last year than I thought possible.
Yesterday I served communion for the first time in the same church I walked cluelessly into a year ago. With full authority to officiate the sacraments to this little community. This authority does not mean I magically know all of the answers or that I will never stumble or that I will always be confident in my call and in my leadership. However, this authority has given me important perspective. So as I served these kind people and my friends and my parents and my partner, a new level of understanding of the depth of this work hit me. This is serious work. This is meaningful work. This is hard work. And this work is not about me. Because this work is a tangible connection of the sacred meeting our every day, meaning God’s moving so we must get out of the way.
So even though I am drowning in exhaustion from Ancient Greek class and pastoral juggling and settling into a new house, I am choosing to delight. This work is why I was created. This work is my incredibly small but incredibly important contribution to this broken world. And this work will sustain me, even when I am clueless or overwhelmed or at a loss. In this brief moment of rest, I am stuck on God’s unconditional love for us, God’s relentless pursuit of us, and God’s unbelievable desire to be in relationship with us – all of this showing up in the every day. May we aspire to live in kind.