Hi, I've Missed You
Oh gosh, what a while it has been since I last blogged. Thank you all for giving me the space to settle into my new position. Since 2020, you were my primary spiritual community through blogging, classes, and individual sessions but since I began my full-time position as Pastor of Walnut United Methodist in January, I was overwhelmed with the entire onboarding process like meeting and getting to know congregants, learning about their history and policies, crafting worship, and then, of course, helping them open up more and more since the pandemic. Since I’ve arrived, we’ve brought back the choir, coffee hour, bulletins, hymnals, and new programs.
But on today of all days, during the busiest week of the Christian calendar—Holy Week—is when I felt jolted to update all of you. Funny how that happens. It also helps that it’s a rainy day and rainy days always make me want to write, with a hot cup of coffee close by. Speaking of which, there’s been some anxiety in the news lately about the weather warming up so soon in Southern California (it was in the 90s last week) but here we are, back in the 60s with a steady drizzle. With every drop, my trust in God deepens—we’re going to be okay. We’re in good hands.
Onto the big question I’ve been getting a lot lately: How’s the new job? I love it. It’s been overwhelming, of course, especially as my husband and I have been adjusting to a totally different rhythm in our lives. Gone are the days when my priorities were ever so simple; my family and writing. Now, my mind is preoccupied with our church budget, creating bulletins for memorial services, visiting homebound congregants, etc.
It’s really different than any other church appointment I’ve had in that it’s a smaller congregation and I’m the only full-time staff person. In the past, I’ve been placed in larger congregations with big teams like a couple full-time pastors, a full-time secretary, a children’s ministry director, a youth director, and more. Serving a smaller congregation isn’t better or worse, it’s just different. In some ways actually, it’s easier because there’s less to cull. In the larger congregations I’ve served, there were more resources but much more to manage and subsequently, clean up. Lots of times, churches, especially large ones with prominent histories, accumulate an excess of programs and ministries and have difficulty letting go of the ones that are no longer effective because people get attached. What ends up happening is that there’s a lot of energy expended in many directions rather than a new unified vision, which impedes church growth. I don’t have to deal with that here. The pandemic also naturally cut out all the excess programing so I started at this church with the bare bones. I was able to start anew.
At the same time, since I’m now a solo pastor, I have a heightened sense of gratitude for the senior pastors I worked under in my previous appointments. I’m utilizing so much of what they taught me, both with their words and actions. It truly feels that I was sent to this church at the right time, like they were the missing puzzle piece in my life and I, theirs.
So now, as I’ve been settling into my new role, I’m also trying to settle into a new life rhythm that works for me, my family, and the congregation. For the first few months, I threw myself wholly into work and neglected everything else. It’s only recently that I’m starting to reintegrate leisure and self-care practices like reading books for pleasure and of course, coming back to this blog and my book—all of which has been pushed aside for the time being. I’m dedicating Monday mornings to writing and indulging in a pastry from my favorite coffee shop. I’m writing this blog post now with a cinnamon bun at my side.
Peace be with you all as you move through Holy Week. This week feels all the more special to me since we couldn’t commemorate these in-person for the last two years. Below is a photo from yesterday’s Palm Sunday service.
And in terms of when I’ll post next, I won’t promise anything other than promising it won’t be as long as my last hiatus.