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this week –

21 May
The name of this week is balance.  And joy.  And sanity.
After a really crappy Saturday night of loathing my job and hating myself for my procrastination talent, I need a recovery week.  Balance.  Joy.  Sanity.
How will that happen?
. No evening meetings equals home at five every night. 
. Fresh strawberries and fresh pineapple.
. Designated DEAR time during the work day.
. Iced coffee in the fridge.
. The beginnings of a container garden and spreading mulch.  And I moved a hosta.  I hope I didn’t kill it.
. Booking a b&b and kayak trip in Grand Marais for vacation.  Maybe a pottery class too?
. A new quilt pieced together on the dining room table.
. A list of enjoyable tasks at church that include large sheets of paper and a staff meeting.
Do you hear that?  It’s me breathing a sigh of relief.  This week will be awesome.

first call reTREAT.

16 May
From Sunday evening to Tuesday afternoon, I lived at Gustavus Adolphus College in St.Peter, MN with ten other first call pastors.*
ca-ray-zee.
We talked about anxiety.  I know what that is.  A speaker came in to present a day of family systems theory.  Interesting stuff.  We all walk around as pseudo-selves, and need to consistently try to differentiate ourselves from that person.  [Psycho babble?  A bit.  But it totally makes sense.]  It was great to know that I am never alone in psycho babble and anxious pastoral stuff.
We ate a lot at the Gustavus cafeteria, though I still marvel at the lack of hard boiled eggs at breakfast, and spent time with the Bishop.  It was all good but also a lot of people time.  I realized I’m an introvert who wants to be invited into conversation but also an introvert who doesn’t want to be put on the spot for conversation.  I’m an introvert that can’t win.
We drank wine, snacked, and stayed up late telling stories.  We turned Lindsay on.
wait.  what?
Ready for a story?  Every year the synod hosts an assembly.  The assembly this year was the same weekend as I had a wedding here at ROG.  Paige, jD, and I couldn’t be together at a synod event for the first time nearly ever.  Tragic, really.  And so, to be connected ever so distantly, Paige named the wi-fi hotspot on her phone Lindsay.  That way, as jD and Paige used internet on their iPads at the assembly, they were connected to Lindsay.  To me.  [aww.]
Some people at the retreat wanted to use me, er, the internet.  And so they asked Paige if I could be turned on.  insert dirty joke and lindsay-the-person blushing.  This used to be a compliment! I exclaimed at one point as it went a bit extreme.
It still is, said Charlie.
Aww.  Thanks, Charlie.

* Pastors in their first three years of ministry are part of a first-call theological education.  That includes various meetings, a monthly colleague group, and a yearly retreat.  It’s quite fun.

such a nut.

24 Apr
I’ve known for a long time that I care too much about what others think of me.  I fear being judged by others.  What I’m realizing recently is how frequently those thoughts dominate my being.  I certainly do care how my closest friends and family see me, for people who know me best help me be truly myself by being dear, honest people.  [And that’s not judging.  That’s knowing.]  But when I consistently care how perfect strangers are perceiving me, I think it borders on unhealthy.
Here’s an example.  I mowed my lawn on Monday night, and I did it successfully.  [Lindsay:1 Mower:1]  But it wasn’t done until Monday so on Sunday, when it looked like a South American jungle of grass and dandelions, I spent most of my morning wondering what the congregation was thinking.  Did they think I was lazy for not mowing it?  Did they say to themselves, why in the world isn’t the parsonage lawn mowed?  Maybe they did.  Maybe they didn’t.  [Truth is the lawn mower was being serviced all of last week – hence the jungle.]  But then, as I mowed it on Monday night, too many more judgmental thoughts came to mind.  I wondered if the people driving past thought, my, she’s driving that lawn mower slow.  Or maybe they thought, why in the world is she doing it like that?  Did any of the cars driving past seriously think any of that?  Probably not. And so what if they did?
I realized how often I think about others’ perceptions of me when I was driving somewhere new.  I don’t even remember where I was going but I recall making a wrong turn.  I knew I had to turn back but there was a car behind me.  I distinctly remember thinking to myself, I’ll just drive another block before I turn around.  That way the person behind me won’t know I’m slightly lost.  Why in the world should I ever care what the car behind me thought?  I didn’t know the person and never would.  But for some deranged reason, thoughts like that plague me all the time.  I’m nutty and I want to not be.
Then put me in a position as a public leader in a church and my what-do-they-think-of-me? goes crazy.  I want everyone to like me.  I don’t want anyone to think that I’m dumb or lazy.  I want them to know that I’m doing my job as best as I know how.  This fear of other people judging me – in addition to my need for processing time and introversion – likely leads to me saying next to nothing in new group settings.  [But then they just judge me for being quiet so really it’s a no win.]  I feel judged.  A lot.  And, really, honestly, I’m probably not.  I’m paranoid.
New goal: To not let my perceptions of other peoples’ fictitious judgments ruin my day or infiltrate my thoughts.  To know myself that I’m doing the best I can and have that be enough because I am enough.
[You’re judging me right now, aren’t you?]
wink.

dr. knock-me-down and how I learned to stop crying and embrace the party rock.

16 Nov
*cue refrain*
Sunday was great.  [Church was … meh – I blame my own preparation – but it was followed by an afternoon of the Blooming High School musical and local church potato supper with two lovely congregation ladies.  That was followed by Mabel and I trucking to O-town to hang out with the first-year-first-call groupies and having great conversation about Catholic pre-marital counseling.]  
Then Monday kinda sucked.  Tuesday morning wasn’t a whole lot better.
If life and work could stop being such a roller coaster, I would greatly appreciate it.  
I felt knocked down on Monday.  I’m facing fears of change, trust, and lots of different emotions that I can’t even name at this point.  It’s hard to know how to go forward without experience or much confidence on my end.  I cried, watched Dawson’s Creek, and ate a fruit smoothie to nurse my sore throat.  [you may play your sympathy music here.]  Bottom of roller coaster.
I started to go up on the ride yesterday.  I embraced the party rock and began my day with a blow-dryer-loud-music dance party for one in the blue bathroom.  That doesn’t mean that I didn’t cry when I got to work but that also doesn’t negate the power of party rock.  An afternoon of tea and website conversation continued the climb.  A night of nothing.  Literally nothing.  Needed.
Welcome to Wednesday.  Another party rock morning.  Naomi Circle meeting at Perkins.  Good.  Nursing home communion visits.  Good.  Dorcas Circle meeting at church.  Good.
It was a day of great stories.  Stories of second chances, long lives, and how God works through all of it.  Stories of going home from the nursing home after a two month recovery.  Stories of being married for 71 years.  Conversations about deep roots, good soil, and necessary silence.  
And then confirmation.  My confirmation group of four is beyond awesome.  They’re engaged, ask questions, and – dare I say? – a bit excited to be bringing their Bibles each week.  Tonight we talked about what we’re thankful for, the movie Serendipity [one could say there are likenesses to, oh, Isaac and Rebekah?], and the relation of music and faith.  
One of the confirmation gals also said she is working through the Bible reading plan that I stuffed in the bulletins last Sunday.  [Yes!  At least one!  And a youth at that!]  As we reviewed what we learned last week, I asked a bunch of questions about Abraham, Sarah, and Isaac.  This particular gal wanted clarification on whether it was a lamb or ram given for sacrifice in the binding of Isaac.  I told her to look it up and asked her where she would find the story, hoping she would be able to give me the book name.  “Genesis 22?” she asked.  Yes!  Yes!  “I just read it yesterday,” she said.  “It’s on the reading plan.”  Yes!  Yes!
Up and down.  Up and down.  Tomorrow is first call colleague group over lunch [up] and a day of two sermons on my plate [down].  There will also be cleaning for a visitor this weekend [Adam!] and thoughts of a state football playoff game at the Metrodome on Saturday morning.  [Blooming Prairie is playing – guess who? – Dawson in the state playoffs!]  Up and down.  Up and down.  I’m holding out for less dr. knock-me-down and a little more party rock in the next days.

DEAR

14 Nov
Do you remember DEAR time from elementary school?  [Drop Everything And Read]  I loved DEAR time.  I was that kid with her nose in a book all the time.  All the time.  
I hereby reinstate DEAR time in my life.
When I was at the fall theological conference, it seemed people were constantly suggesting I read this book or that.  They would tell me that this one book sounded a lot like what I was going through or talking about or they found that one other book really helpful in their first year of call.  Forget the pile of books that are already on my shelves, waiting to be read or reread post-seminary [now with a context to which apply them].
I hereby promise to make the best attempt I can to read for 30 minutes during each work day.  Thirty minutes of theological, devotional, or educational reading.  Maybe more.
I always felt guilty sitting in my office and reading.  I felt like I should be doing something.  Fall theological helped me realize that reading is doing something and it is part of my job.  It belongs in the office and deserves at least 30 minutes of my day.  jD and I are holding each other accountable … or at least trying.
First up: Sabbath, by Wayne Muller.
Perfect in many ways for my life right now.  Perfect because I often feel like this:

A ‘successful’ life has become a violent enterprise.  We make war on our own bodies, pushing them beyond their limits; war on our children, because we cannot find enough time to be with them when they are hurt and afraid, and need our company; war on our spirit, because we are too preoccupied to listen to the quiet voices that seek to nourish and refresh us; war on our communities, because we are fearfully protecting what we have, and do not feel safe enough to be kind and generous; war on the earth, because we cannot take the time to place our feet on the ground and allow it to feed us, to taste its blessings and give thanks. [p. 2]

And want the ability to feel like this:

Sabbath implies a willingness to be surprised when creation renews itself, when what is finished inevitably recedes, and the sacred forces of healing astonish us with the unending promise of love and life. [p. 37]  

the curse of two.

11 Nov
Number two.
[no.  not that.]
Enneagram number two.
The enneagram is a personality system.  Nine numbers, each with different manners of thinking, living, and acting in life. I find both comfort and challenge in knowing my enneagram and being able to see the ways I feel and live through that lens. 
I’m a two.  A giver/helper.  And one cursed to always feel like I’m disappointing other people and foregoing my own needs to be in service to others.
In ministry, this has its place.  Definitely.  But lately, I’m feeling more how it drains and consumes me.
I hit a certain low today.  It’s my day off and I can’t help but feel all the ways I’ve failed/let people down this week.  It didn’t help any that work called me away to a conference for two of my workdays [which was a good thing until the stress of today].  I didn’t return the rake to the proper custodian closet and he had to go get it himself.  I should have called about the microphone issues we’re having earlier in the week instead of scrambling to fix it on Thursday, perhaps now facing a Sunday without my microphone in working order.  I didn’t make any visits this week and upon discovery of the previous pastor’s milage reports in the file cabinet today, I find he visited at least one person a day.  Things that have been on my to-do list for weeks still remain, consistently being pushed further back.  It’s my day off but I’m spending it doing everything I think I should have done earlier so I won’t let anyone else down.
And really – have I let anyone down?  No one has told me such.  But that’s what I sense.  That’s what I feel I know.  I have this fear that I’m not living up to the congregation’s expectations of a pastor.  I need counseling.  [Seriously.  I will be exploring the avenue of counseling as soon as I figure out how to find someone in my health care network.  The synod encourages us as pastors to find a counselor.]  I don’t hear much positive feedback [except that I have great children’s sermons] so I’m always wondering where I really stand.  [So, naturally, I think they don’t like me when in actuality, maybe they’re simply not vocalizing what they’re thinking.  Apparently I crave feedback.]
I’ve heard again and again from other new pastors that in the first year I must be patient with myself.  I need to give myself grace and remind myself that I’m always learning.  But do I really need to face a whole first year of feelings like this?  I sure hope not because that would suck.  [I should also add that I realize this is not an exclusive number two issue, but it’s how I can easily put into words my own issues.]
*over-exaggerated sigh*  So that’s my current emotional state.  Please excuse me now while I eat a bowl of chili [mmm.  with noodles.  comfort food.], begin a Harry Potter night of both Deathly Hallows films [#2 was released today.], and exercise the self-care I have lacked so far today.  [Another facet of the two: two’s will often care for others and their own needs remain unmet.  That’s not good either.]  
I’m trying and trying to do my best.  That’s all I can do.  [Right?]

ps. I blogged here again today.  And I’m thankful for you.

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