Day of Contradictions

Yesterday.

I give myself a deep sigh as I think about it. It started out well. Ticked things off my to-do list: morning journal, blog post, tasks around the kitchen, stopped at Macy's to pick up a couple of shirts for my son. I'd found them the day before and loved them for him. Snapped a few pictures to see if he loved them too. Laughed with the person who rang me up that we don't pick up things for our sons anymore without sending them a picture first.

Got to the office and made some good headway into that to-do list, and then the day fell apart. To-do-list-wise. Of course, every time this happens, I remember what my mentor in seminary always said, "Your ministry is your interruptions." 

And that's wonderful. I serve to help bring ease, comfort, consolation, and companionship to others. But there's also an institution to run. I'm a CEO and a COO wrapped in a clerical collar. People sometimes forget that pastors also run non-profit corporations. This time of year, for me, it's insurance matters. Our carrier has announced that it will no longer write policies for churches in Pennsylvania. There's not enough profit, apparently. A friend just told me he had the same experience with his homeowners coverage in California. When did insurance companies get to decide not to offer whole classes of insurance to entire states, or regions of the country? 

So, we're reviewing new policy offers and getting our ducks in a row for that, especially after the Covid shut down and the revolving door of people leaving leadership positions, others moving into them, and some remaining vacant, as ministry areas rise and fall based on interest and resourcing. 

Contradictions.

Expecting to do one kind of work and spending my time doing another. Then there was the massage at the chiropractor's office that was anything but relaxing or healing, as construction workers on the floor above set the fire alarm off over and over again with the dust they were raising as they worked carelessly. Surges of cortisol running through my body were incompatible with long, slow massage strokes. Perhaps even mocking.

I took the rest of the late afternoon and evening slowly. Went to the grocery store. Talked to a friend on the phone. Made a different dinner than I'd been planning because it was easier. Turned off my phone while I ate and for the rest of the evening. Went to bed early. Got eight hours of sleep. Got up early today and gently moved into my morning routine. Thought about the day and ways I can be flexible. There's a list for today as well. The insurance must be attended to and other matters set aside, even if something comes up. I'll figure it out. I remember that I am not an everlasting resource and that time works the same way for me as it does for everyone else. I remind myself that I am the only one who can take care of myself and that part of self care is judicious use of "no."   

The Green Wilderness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.