Torn

Annual Conference was, overall, a great experience. I got to re-connect with a number of friends I hadn't seen in a year or more. On Thursday night I had dinner with a former pastor (who is now a friend and mentor), on Friday I had lunch with my friend Hannah, who helped hold me together during the SJ debacle, and on Friday night I had dinner with Lee, my college roommate (who is not clergy, but who lives in the city where AC was held). The preaching was incredible: Rev. Dr. Sam Wells (the dean of the chapel at Duke) was the preacher, and BOY OH BOY can the man preach. Worship was filling, and I also enjoyed voting for General and Jurisdictional Conference delegates for the very first time.

There were parts of AC that were challenging. The sermons, worship, and conversations both opened and healed past wounds. It was wonderful and affirming to be among fellow clergy and to be reminded of who I am and Whose I am, but it also served as a reminder that while I'm where God wants me to be, I'm still "in limbo", so to speak.

The sessions and voting continued into Sunday, but both Mac and I both chose to leave on Saturday afternoon (separately, of course) to be at BT on Sunday morning. I think he didn't want to take another Sunday off, and I was on-call on Saturday night and scheduled to be the liturgist on Sunday morning. And once again, Mac's sermon made me cry. While I was the liturgist. In front of everyone. Thankfully, I don't think many people noticed, and my part of the service was already over (I do the first half, and he does the second half), but it was just a little embarrassing. So, after the service was over, I glared at him, told him he was a sadist for making me cry when I was the liturgist, and stomped off. I then went into a dark classroom to cry for half an hour. Later I sent him an e-mail apologizing for the sadist remark, although from his response he was more flattered than offended.

There is a reason that I cried during that sermon, and it's because God spoke to me in a powerful way about a particular issue in my life. I'm not going to dwell on that right now. What I do want to dwell on is how I've seen God work through Mac, week in and week out, to really BRING IT in terms of preaching. In the nine months since I've really been paying attention to his sermons, I have only heard one sermon that even came close to being  a "dud". Sunday was the ninth time that Mac's sermon made me cry, and the third time that I've pretty much sobbed during/after a sermon.

So, I can't help but be amazed at the man/instrument of God who can attend three days of meetings from 7am to 10:30pm, drive five hours, arrive home at 9pm, probably wake up around 6am, and then stand in the pulpit and deliver a sermon that powerful and convicting. It elicits two responses in me: a desire to learn as much as possible from Mac so that I can be that effective, and a desire to slink away because I don't see how I'll ever be that effective. I guess I find Mac both inspiring and intimidating (side note: that's kind of amusing to me, because as I'm getting to know him better, I'm becoming more and more aware of his blind spots, so I certainly know that he is not perfect. But what he does well, he does VERY VERY well). I want to be just like him (not really, but you know what I mean), but part of me feels that's impossible.

These days, I'm torn between the burning desire to be back under appointment, to be a pastor, to be in full-time ministry...and the utter fear that I will not measure up, that I will not be effective, that I will never meet my potential, and that my sermons will always be mediocre.

I guess, in a way, I'm torn between trusting God and relying on God's grace to transform me into the person and pastor I am meant to be...and shrinking away because of the fear that I don't have what it takes to be a preacher and leader who God works through to change lives. 

I know what I need to do...and which choice is the better one. It's just hard.

Reader Participation Sunday: Pastoral Counselor or Spiritual Director?

It has become clear to me that I need someone to talk to on a regular basis, someone who can help me discern and sort and wrestle with what I hear God telling me, and who can help me work through the challenges and struggles that life brings me. While I have been meeting with Mac every 2-4 weeks, and will continue to do so, I would rather use that time to pick his brain about other things AND possibly be available for him, if the opportunity arises. There are also issues that I would rather not discuss with Mac; not because I don't trust him, but for other reasons.

I came to this realization (that I need help, that I need an additional resource) on Tuesday night. It had been a busy week and weekend. I worked 13.5 hours on Saturday, was then on-call Saturday night (and received two pages), attended church (where the special music and accompanying video made me cry), went to two different potlucks, and was then on-call again on Monday night (when I got yet another page). By Tuesday, I was exhausted. By Tuesday afternoon, I was sobbing on and off, and realized that I could not attend the very important campaign meeting that evening, simply because of my mental state.

I called Mac on Wednesday, and he made time for me on Friday, and we discussed self-care strategies and I shared that I clearly need help with self-management (such as knowing when I need to rest before things reach a critical point, building rest and care into my schedule, etc). He shared with me some of the strategies he uses, and invited me to share some of those (a small group, a clergy discussion group).

So, I'm going to use the next few months to build a support network for myself, with the hope that I'll be appointed in this area and will have these resources in place. My first step is what I mentioned before: someone who I can talk to, who can help me sort through my thoughts, and who will aid me in discovering and following God's will in my life.

The two clearest options for the sort of resource I'm describing are either a spiritual director or a pastoral counselor. I live in an area where either are readily available, and even have the number for several pastoral counselors. I cannot utilize both at this time, for financial reasons. My insurance would pay for the pastoral counselor, but I would probably need to pay out of pocket for the spiritual director, and I don't know how much that would cost.

I'm leaning towards the pastoral counseling option, but I wanted to hear your thoughts. Which have you found most helpful?

Head, Heart, and the Balance Between the Two

General update: When I talked to Mac last Saturday, he pointed out that both Matt and I are fairly new to the church (within the past five years, which is new for a 230-year-old church) and he wasn't sure that dynamic was a good idea for a six-million-dollar campaign. I agreed, so I told Matt to find someone else, and he picked someone who I think is PERFECT and a much better choice than me. So, that's that. I will, however, be helping with the campaign.

During my CPE residency, one of my biggest self-realizations was how my self-confidence (or lack thereof) affects my concept of my own authority and the way I relate to others, especially those I view as being in positions of authority. In other words, I have trouble seeing myself as an authority figure and tend to have trouble "pushing back", and sometimes even just being myself, with people who I view as authority figures. In the hospital setting, I've gotten over this to a good extent, and can now "push back" with nurses and even doctors when necessary. However, I still run into this issue in other areas of my life...as I realized last week.

Last Wednesday, I met with Mac in his office. I had asked to meet so he could give me feedback on the sermon I preached on Ash Wednesday. I did get that (he basically thought it was fine, called it "tight", and said he had received a lot of positive comments on it), but we spent at least an hour talking about other things. He asked for my impressions of the church so far, and then asked me if I had any questions...particularly about the church or even about him. Golden opportunity, because I did/still do have questions. And...I sort of froze. Instead of asking the insightful questions that have been in my mind (like how he first received a call to ministry, how he prepares these amazingly creative sermons and worship services, or even mundane stuff like if he has any pets or what he does on his day off, and mentioning some of my pet peeves about the church), I...honestly don't even remember what I asked him, except for one: what his wife does for a living. Way to go, Patti. Part of what happened stemmed from my having prepared myself to receive sermon feedback, and not much else. Another part of it stemmed from the fact that (as I realized later) even though Mac generously invited me into a collegial moment and was treating me as an equal, I couldn't see myself in that light, and was therefore giving myself an internal inferiority complex.

My heart was touched and gratified that Mac was willing to be so collegial with me, but my head was telling me something else entirely...that I wasn't worthy, that any questions I asked would be stupid, and who knows what else my subconscious was thinking. Sort of silly, but it stems from my self-confidence being somewhere in the basement due to my SJ experience. I have trouble stating my gifts for parish ministry because I still have trouble believing that I am, indeed, called to be a pastor.

Keep in mind that this is all "me", and has nothing to do with Mac. He's been great, and I am very thankful that God sent me to this church and put him in my life. Of course he's not perfect (I threatened to beat him with a wet noodle last week when he took several days to respond to a voice mail, and his sermons run too long, and...), but overall, he's pretty awesome. I just need to be more confident about who God created me to be, confident about the gifts God has given me, and be myself in my conversations with Mac.

I hope all of that made sense.

I'm Exhausted

Physically...because even at one year old, Walter still does not sleep through the night on a consistent basis. Yes, we've tried sleep training. No, it didn't really work. Also, I'm on call every Monday night and every Saturday night, and the pager has been really really busy. I don't remember the last time I went a night without a call. Good for the bank account, but bad for my body and sleep needs.

Emotionally...because all this healing/growth crap is really wearing me out. I feel like I'm constantly having to do CPE with myself. There's also the fact that I have two young children, and Nora is a very engaging, playful child...who WEARS ME OUT. Oh yeah, and then there's the emotional roller coaster I've been on over the past year with my mother's breast cancer (good news: she should be in remission, but we'll know for sure on March 1).

Spiritually...because right now, I feel like God is a coach who keeps asking me to "step it up" to the next level. Just when I get to a point of surrender and think that I can rest for a while, some new nudging/revelation happens.

Getting Ready to Return

I've decided that my vocational mission this year is to get myself ready to return to full-time ministry by July 2012 (the United Methodist appointment year goes from July 1 to June 30). I want to be in the best shape possible in terms of spiritual health, emotional stability, and my confidence in my ability to effectively lead a congregation.

Over the past two-and-a-half years, I have reflected a lot on what I could have done differently in the Saint John's situation and what I will do differently when I return to being a pastor (note the use of the word "when". I'm now certain that it is a "when" and not an "if"). However, I've never actually put those thoughts and ideas in writing; they've just remained in my head. I think it's time to express them "out loud", so to speak.

Even if I were to begin a new appointment today, I know that things would be different. I am not the same naive 29-year-old who walked through the doors of Saint John's in 2006. Obviously, I'm not 29 any more. (: I also weigh about 20 lbs more than that woman and have some unsightly stretch marks. But there are deeper changes that aren't noticeable to the naked eye. I am far, far more realistic and pragmatic now than I was back then. I have an additional four units of Clinical Pastoral Education, and a pretty good handle on basic Family Systems theory. I am a stronger person, and am less "rocked" by the petty things in life. I have increased empathy for people and situations that are different from myself.

But, I'm still growing in my confidence and ability to lead/order the ministry of the church. I think my self-confidence was damaged enough that I need to spend some time developing relationships within the church, to regain my equilibrium in that area. I've still never done a traditional church funeral (remember, no one died while I was at Saint John's). I've also just begun to really re-involve myself in the local church. And then there's the matter of my relationship with God, which is being renewed after two years of negligence.

At the end of my CPE residency, I did a creative verbatim using scenes from "The Lion King" to illustrate my experience in the local church and healing afterward. This scene (click on the link to view it on YouTube) pretty much sums up my attitude in 2006; excited, but not having a clue about what I was walking into:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nGaLVJ9U52I


When I do take another appointment, my attitude will be much more like Simba in this clip:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ea4uc_1VGSE
Informed by the past, confident in who I am, but most importantly, confident in the One who called me and who is saying, "Remember who you are."

Argh...

One week from today, I have a meeting with my District Superintendent. It means exactly what you think it means...that I'm trying to discern whether or not to seek an appointment this year. It's a God thing...and I would appreciate your prayers.

I'm working on the sermon for January 2, and hoping and praying that my pastor does indeed come through (as he said he would) with an e-mail about details for that Sunday. I'll breathe easier when that happens. But, if he doesn't for some reason (SIDE NOTE: I am notoriously bad about returning e-mails when I get busy/overwhelmed, and since people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, I tend to be fairly understanding) I have a Plan B for getting the information I need (it involves calling the church office on Monday and doing the legwork myself). I'll just feel better once I get the information.

And of course, I'm putting myself under all sorts of unnecessary pressure about this sermon. I realize how ridiculous it is, how I need to merely focus on being faithful to God, to the Word, to the process of preparation. However, I keep having this fear that I'm going to totally BOMB, and I want so much for this to go well, for it to be the kind of sermon that knocks peoples socks off. My plan is to send a CD of the worship service to my D.S., so I have this need/want for it to be the best sermon I've ever preached. It may not be, of course. I would, however, like for it to be good enough that the DS watches it and goes, "oh, well, she can preach, can't she" and that my pastor asks me to preach for him again.

I'm also working on an account of my time at Saint John's for the D.S. I'm on my third version, because I just can't keep it relatively brief and also complete.

And I just finished Christmas shopping today, and probably won the Worst Mother of the Day award at the pediatricians' office because Walter was crying the entire time (he wanted a nap and a bottle, but I had forgotten to bring a bottle) and he wasn't even the patient. Nora was the patient. She's fine; she might have a UTI but we're going to ride out the weekend and see what happens.

I'm hoping to finish the sermon in time to post it here for feedback. So, stay tuned.

Oh, and pray for me at 10am on the 30th, will you? Please? This sort of terrifies me.

Picking Your Brains: Pets, Parsonages, and our Ministry

I am aware that several of my readers (you know, all three or so of you) are also pet owners, so I thought that you all might be a good source of insight for me. This question falls into the vein of "if I do go back to the parish, what could I do differently to make sure this sort of situation doesn't happen again?"

When we moved into the SJ parsonage in June 2006, Harry and I had one dog. His name was Woody, and he was our baby...I freely admit that we treated him like a child. Of course he lived in the house with us, because neither Harry or myself had ever considered any other alternative. In November 2006, we added Simon to our family. He was six weeks old and I actually brought him home from a church event (long story). From the beginning, Harry and I made every effort to make sure that the dogs did not damage the parsonage (cleaning up from any messes, keeping them off church-owned furniture, crate-training Simon). We did give them free reign over the yard, after installing one of those underground fences.

At first, I took Woody to the office with me and to a church event held outside. I also brought him to one night of VBS, but as I heard later (two months later), that didn't go over well. I think people were kind of "weirded out" by me even bringing Woody to the outside event and to the office. In the culture of that area, pets just weren't a major part of peoples' lives. They almost always lived outside, sometimes chained up except for brief walks, and I know some owners only saw their pets once every few days.

Like everything at SJ, it seemed like a fairly minor thing until about a year or so later, when all you-know-what began to break loose. They (meaning my parsonage committee) accused the dogs (Woody had died by this point, but he was still considered a guilty party) of ruining the boxwoods in front of the parsonage by peeing on them (NOTE: I have a very brown thumb and no one told me that dog urine could kill boxwoods) and demanded that I replace them. They had a hissy fit because Simon jumped on the sofa one time as they were leaving (he was forbidden from doing so, but still did it occasionally and the sofa WAS. IN. PERFECT. CONDITION). Basically, they acted like my dogs had destroyed their precious parsonage, or were in the process of doing so. In reality (both our opinion and the observations of other visitors), the parsonage was in as good shape as it had been when we moved in (except for the boxwoods, but can I interject that we had TWO very dry summers which might have contributed to their demise). When we moved out, there were no complaints about the condition of the parsonage, and my successor (who doesn't live in the SJ parsonage) said that from what she heard, the church was "very pleased" with the condition of the parsonage (not surprising, since we had the floors waxed and the upholstery and rugs shampooed, as well as a thorough cleaning).

The church made it clear that the next time a pastor lived in the parsonage, they were going to request/demand that any pets be outside all the time AND that any dogs be "tied up out back." I don't think they'll have much luck with that (I would laugh in their face and then demand either a housing allowance, a policy change, or another appointment).

So...how have you all handled pet issues in the parsonage? Have you ever run into any problems? Their reaction seems a little extreme and unyielding to me, especially since we really tried to respect their property. I realize that it was all part of the larger Drama, but is there anything that I missed? I've already decided that if I go back to the local church, I will push for a housing allowance if at all possible. If I do wind up in a parsonage, the parsonage committee and I will establish upfront what their/our expectations are in terms of care, upkeep, and pet policy.

Well, THAT Only Took Me 18 Months to Realize...

It's amazing the realizations that come to us in the middle of the night, or the wee hours of the morning. Today, I had one of those realizations and amazingly enough, I still remember it and can blog about it.

I'm angry at God.

I've struggled with lots of anger over the past 18 months. I was angry at myself, then at SJ, then at my District Superintendents (both of them), then at my Board of Ordained Ministry, the Annual Conference, and even Harry (although that's not the case anymore-and since he reads this blog, I know we'll be having a conversation when he gets back from his overnight trip). But I had never even felt or even contemplated that I might be angry at God.

I think that the catalyst for this realization is Harry's trip up to his undergraduate alma mater to give a presentation on some fun math topic. See, in our original Grand Plan, Harry was supposed to be teaching at Alma Mater University after he received his PhD. He was one of the bright stars of the department; his former professor, mentor, and friend described him as the best student he's ever had. Every time Harry would visit during graduate school, key people in the department would do this "wink, wink, nudge, nudge" thing and ask him when he was graduating (with the understanding that they wanted him to come and teach). So, he would teach at Alma Mater and I'd serve a church in the area, and life would be Great.

The year Harry received his PhD (2006), there were three (3) full-time faculty positions available in the department. He applied for all of them, as well as at least five or six other faculty positions at various colleges/universities within the boundaries of my annual conference. To be "on the safe side", he also applied to three or four schools outside the conference. His grades were PERFECT, he was already published, had presented several papers, had excellent recommendations, etc. I expected schools to be fighting over him. Who wouldn't want my brilliant, gifted, hard-working husband on their faculty??

But that's not what happened. He went to a huge math conference in January and only got about five or so "mini-interviews" and of those interviews, he only got invited for TWO on-campus interviews, neither of which were in our annual conference. Alma Mater University never contacted him for an on-campus interview, and when he made some inquiries, he found out they were drooling over a bunch of people who had done post-doctoral research and seemed to care less about Harry (his former professor was quite incensed about this, by the way. Jim wanted Harry to come to Alma Mater as much as Harry did, maybe more).

So...he got a job offer at a small university about 70 miles from the border of our annual conference, and accepted the position. Then I had to make a request for an appointment as close to the VA/NC border as possible. Then I got appointed to SJ, and I now know that they had specifically asked for a pastor who was OLDER and EXPERIENCED (the opposite of me, in other words), and no one saw fit to tell me this until 18 months into my time there. My two years at SJ were probably the worst in my life so far (and it wasn't all about the church-my FIL died, my dog died, my mother got breast cancer, Harry and I were separated for six months while we had a newborn) and did severe damage to my reputation, my family, and my emotional health. I'm still in "recovery/healing" mode from all that and am scared to death to return to the local church because of those two years.

It really just feels that from January 2006 to May 2008, Harry and myself were the unwilling subjects of a massive amount of human and natural screw-ups. So much seemed like it was out of our control. And I'm just now realizing/willing to admit that I sort of blame God for that, and am just slightly angry at God for that. That awareness is both freeing and terrifying. It's freeing because I know it's a step towards complete healing. It's terrifying because I don't want to be mad at God and, as much as I tell others (and believe that) "it's OK to be angry at God. God can handle your anger. Let it out", the truth is that it just feels wrong to me...like lightning is going to strike me at any moment.

I could write more, but Nora is calling "Mama, Mama" and banging on the baby gate to her room, so I'd better go liberate her. We're planning a "Girls' Afternoon/Evening Out", complete with a trip to a local mall that has a CAROUSEL and a cool play area.

On Departing a Church...

Over the past few months, I read posts by several blog friends as they prepare to, and then leave a church under less-than-ideal circumstances (in other words, it's not "I feel God leading me to this new ministry setting, so let's celebrate the fruits of our ministry, cry a little, and prepare to move forward", it's more "I really need to leave this place for my well-being/that of my family or because I have no choice but to leave."

I'm sure that leaving a church is painful no matter what the circumstances, but it seems to be especially heart-wrenching and have a painful aftermath when the situation resembles the latter of the two I mentioned above. Granted, I've only left one church, and it was a "get the heck out of Dodge" situation, so it's not like I have vast amounts of experience in that area.

In my situation, less than two weeks elapsed from the time my D.S. called me (while I was in a Wal-Mart parking lot, incidentally) to say that, "these people are out for blood, it's your blood they want, and things are not going to get better if you stay until June; it will get much worse" and then proposed the "paid study leave" that turned into an unpaid family leave. I received his phone call on Tuesday, April 22, 2008 and my final Sunday was May 4, 2008.

At first, I was elated, because a) I was going to get out of there and it had been his idea and not mine, b) I was (at first) still going to receive my salary for another eight weeks, c) I would be free to join my husband and reunite our family in a brand new setting. However, over the next week or so I began to have conflicting emotions. I still sensed that I needed to leave early...or at least would pretty much have no choice by the end of things...but also struggled with the need to be gracious and take the higher road while also really wanting to throw things and cuss some people out. Because of the timing of everything (the initial phone conversation happened the day before my DS left for General Conference, our denomination-wide gathering), just about everything was done via phone or e-mail. There was pretty much no interaction between me and the congregation's leaders. My next-to-last Sunday (April 27, I think), the tension in the worship service could have been cut with a knife. There was a special Council meeting after worship (that I did not attend, because the DS pretty much advised against it), and an e-mail later that afternoon from my PPR chair, who said that they decided to "pass" on the proposal "offered by you and Rev. ____" because they didn't "see any benefit to us." They had decided to let me continue as their pastor (not like they really had any choice...) until June.

The D.S. was furious at them, because the key leaders had essentially agreed to our initial proposal, the Council meeting was supposed to be a formality, and so they essentially reneged on the deal. As he explained to me the next day, I had a choice; I could stay at SJ until the end of June (when my appointment would officially end) or I could take unpaid family leave ad interim and have the next Sunday be my final day. Well, you know my final choice; I shook the dust off my feet and left early. I took 24 hours to pray about it, and while I did wonder if I shouldn't just "tough it out" for two months, I eventually decided that the cost to my family and my own well-being just wasn't worth "toughing it out". Harry made it very clear that he wanted Nora and me away from SJ ASAP and he didn't care how it happened. I also felt that given that the entire congregation knew that I had essentially tried to leave with a severance package, things probably would be have REALLY REALLY bad for those final weeks.

I made the decision on Tuesday, wrote a very gracious letter of resignation to my PPR chair, and gave it to her in person that day. Her reaction, "well gosh, I hope you don't think we were trying to run you out of town!" Of course, I was nice, but you know what I REALLY wanted to say? Pardon my French, but it would have been this, "Oh, please, b*tch, that's exactly what you were trying to do, and we both know it."

For my final Sunday service, I stayed with the "take the high road" theme and had my Lay Leader (who made my PPR chair seem NICE in comparison-she didn't even talk to me that last day) read scripture and my PPR chair help me serve Communion. Some people knew it was my last Sunday; although there had been no formal announcement, my PPR chair had undoubtedly called my Lay Leader as soon as I left her driveway on Tuesday. My lay leader had a mouth wider than the Mississippi, and she probably called half the congregation herself ("we did it! She's leaving early!") . Of course, others had no clue until they arrived at church and either a) someone told them or b) they heard my announcement. I wrote a lovely letter to the congregation (too bad I can't find it anymore) and while I don't remember lots of it, I do remember there was one line where I said, "I may not be your pastor anymore, but I would be honored to be your friend." I preached on John 17 and talked about unity, forgiveness, and reconciliation. Finally, I prayed for the congregation at the close of the sermon. Yeah, I took the high road. I was so high above some of them, they were SPECKS.

Afterwards...nothing. Several people hugged me, one cried, and several sincerely said they had appreciated my ministry and wished me well. The rest? Either ignored me or gave empty expressions of goodwill. My PPR chair was very "nice" and made a big show over Nora and how much she'd miss her. Against my better judgment, I let her hold Nora for a few minutes.

And then we left...I took a day to pack and gather what we'd need for two weeks in Harry's one-bedroom apartment. We closed on our new house on May 16, and were moved out of the parsonage by May 21 or so. We left the parsonage IMMACULATE, mostly thanks to my cleaning lady (I had that luxury in Danville, but not here) who spent about 20 hours cleaning the parsonage after we moved out. Even the ultra-critical Parsonage Committee found nothing wrong with it.

Sometimes I regret having been SO. DANG. NICE throughout the whole leave-taking process. I feel like I repressed some emotions that I was feeling and robbed myself and them of the potential for some healing. On the other hand, if I had shared more of my emotions and been more up-front with the congregation at large of the issues at hand, that might have caused more problems.

I've really grown a lot...and experienced a lot of healing and recovery in the past year and a half. But there are still some scars, and I'm glad that I have this blog as an outlet and fellow clergy who have "been there, done that, got the T-shirt" who can offer empathy and support. My prayer is that we will all continue to move forward into the next great adventure that God has planned for us...whatever that may be.

Shock, grief, and a prayer request.

Please keep my friend, S, and her family in your prayers. Her husband, J, died very suddenly on Friday. He was only 55 and appeared to be in great health. I just found out this afternoon. S and J were a clergy couple and were a great source of support to me during my time in Danville. In fact, my former church, SJ, became a "cooperative parish" with S's church, Whitmell, so S is now the pastor of my former church.

This is one of those times when I'm reminded that our lives can end at any time and for any reason. I'm thanking God that J has claimed the promise of the resurrection and is in heaven, but I'm grieving that I and so many others have lost a friend. Most importantly, I'm feeling sad for S who has lost a husband, four grown children who have lost a father, and a church who has lost its pastor.

Pray that they will feel God's presence surrounding them, and that God will give them comfort, peace, and strength. Also pray for S's congregations, that God will show them how to support her and her family in this time of intense grief.

I am currently deciding if I am going to attend the funeral, which is Tuesday morning. It's a five-hour trip, but I could do it in one day if necessary. And since I'm on-call the night before, I have the next day off. Part of me really wants to go, as a gesture of love and support for S...and to say goodbye to J.

But--and here's where the selfishness comes in--part of me shudders and writhes in agony at the thought of going back to that area again. It was a source of so much pain, and I know I'd see lots of members of SJ at the funeral (or I'd expect to, anyway. If your pastor's husband dies, you'd damn well better go to the funeral if at all possible). There's the potential for re-opening of old wounds, both on my side and theirs. Do I really want to/need to deal with that?

Another aspect to this is: what would my presence at the funeral mean to S herself? I haven't heard from her in a few months (she may have been busy, what with two churches and a goat farm) and I'm wondering if the W-2 episode (see March's archives) might have caused her to be irritated/fed up with me. Of course, her father died in March and her daughter just got married, so I imagine that life has been fairly chaotic this spring/summer.

I have to make a decision by tomorrow morning, so I can make the arrangements to be gone if necessary.

If you were me, what would you do in this situation? Understand, I'm not asking you to TELL me what to do. I'm simply asking for your thoughts.

Haunted and Hacking

I've been AWOL from this blog for over a week for a variety of reasons. First, I've been sick. I think it's probably an upper respiratory virus (sore throat, congestion, hacking cough, yucky feeling) but I'm not positive. I have a doc appointment on Monday, so may receive some drugs then. In the meantime, I'm getting what rest I can and alternately chugging Robitussin and cough syrup with codeine (my husband's stash from a bronchitis episode). I've actually been sick a lot this winter, and I'm blaming my 18-month-old daughter who is in daycare. She gets a case of the sniffles, recovers in a few days, and her parents are sick for a week with sinus/bronchitis/bad cold. Thanks, sweetie.

The other reason is that I've been having to deal with my former church regarding the W-2 situation again, and I've been struggling with some angry emotions. I haven't felt like blogging about them until now.

I still do not have a corrected w-2 (or more appropriately, a W-2c) from my former treasurer. Two weeks ago, I e-mailed him and requested that he simply correct the original and we do the same with our copy. His wife (two-faced bitch who was my PPR chair) responded and said she'd let him know, that should be fine, etc. Last Saturday, Harry realized that we actually needed a W-2c (official corrected w-2 form). I sent B an e-mail and asked that he do this and mail it to us ASAP. I told him (once again) exactly what needed to be corrected. On WEDNESDAY I get an e-mail from him asking what boxes he needed to check (I had TOLD him this TWICE already). I immediately reply, telling him what I've told him the past two times ("check the __ and __ in box ___). I have heard nothing from him. I called the district secretary that same day and told her what was going on. She said to contact her if I haven't received anything by the middle of next week, and she'd make sure it happened. I thanked her and left it at that.

Here's what my thought process has been over the past few days:

-Am I being unreasonable? Do I have justification in being this upset? I think so (I'll give the reasons in a minute), but I would love to hear what you think. Here's why I'm upset:
*It is now March 6. My W-2 should have been in my mailbox no later than February 2, according to the IRS. I received it on February 11.
*One of the reasons why I received my W-2 so late was because B "didn't have my address." As I've said before, bull crap. I gave it to him before I left, and even if he had lost my address, both the current pastor and the district office had it all along. He just needed to ask...before the first week of February! He could have even found it by looking on the annual conference web site! Our clergy directory is accessible to anyone.
*There is no reason why my W-2 should have been incorrect in the first place. This is the THIRD year that I've received a W-2 from SJ, and the other two were identical...and had the correct information. B has been the treasurer for almost five years, so he's not new to this job.
*B is a fairly intelligent individual. He may be pushing 80, but there's nothing wrong with his brain. It shouldn't take THREE e-mails for him to establish what needs to be corrected with this W-2, especially since I spelled it out for him.
*As I've mentioned before, I have a history of this sort of behavior from B, so it's not new. With anyone else, I'd give them the benefit of the doubt, be concerned about health, etc, etc. With him and this congregation? Forget it. As far as I'm concerned, it's "guilty until proven innocent."

-I'm really tempted to report B to the district office, the annual conference, the IRS, and my denomination's financial accountability body. However, I don't want to damage the current pastor-who I think highly of and consider a friend-in any way, shape, or form. This is mostly between B and me, and has nothing to do with her.

-This brings back so many memories and emotions of my time at SJ...lots of anger and frustration, for example. What did I do to deserve this? As far as I'm concerned, nothing. I wasn't the perfect pastor, to be sure. I'm sure that they've been hurt by everything that happened. However, I just don't see any justification behind this sort of behavior...especially when it comes one year later!

-I feel so helpless. Beyond e-mailing B (no, I am not going to call him. I don't want to talk to him or his wife), e-mailing S (the current pastor), and reporting him to the agencies mentioned above, what can I do? I'm certainly not going to drive 200 miles and hold a gun to his head while he fills out the W-2c. I don't want to waste the gas or the time, and I don't own a gun, anyway.

As you can tell, I'm frustrated. Harry is even angrier than I am. He likes to do our taxes as early as possible. We're entitled to a nice refund this year, and are planning on spending some of it on home improvements. The rest is going into our savings account.

And I Thought I Was Done With This Stuff...

It's tax time, and of course that means it's also W-2 time. Last Monday (the federal deadline), we still had not received my W-2 from SJ. So, I e-mailed the current pastor to let her know and asked her to check into it. She said that she would. I heard from her again yesterday and she said that B (the treasurer) had mailed it, and the delay was partially because he didn't have my address.

I knew that was a bunch of BS, or at least irresponsibility. When I left SJ, I made a point of giving my PPR chair and treasurer my new address. I also wrote a letter to the congregation and included my new address in that letter. In addition, the district office and my successor had it, also. You would think that B would have saved the address, knowing that he would later need it for tax stuff. That's what I would expect from any reasonable person.

However, B either lost my address (OK, possible, but he did have other ways to get it) or he was simply being passive-aggressive and making me work harder. Based on experience, I'm betting on option B. This is the man who routinely didn't mail/give me my paycheck because he "didn't know what I wanted him to do." Or, he'd take two months to give me a reimbursement check and when I asked about the holdup, he'd say that he had some questions, or wasn't sure if something was eligible for reimbursement. He's intelligent (albeit elderly and in poor health) and pretty responsible, so this sort of behavior just doesn't make sense.

Oh yeah, and the W-2 arrived today and guess what? It was wrong. Two boxes that should have been checked had not been. So, now I get to try and resolve this. Know what else? We haven't received our giving statement for 2008 from SJ, either.

Of course, I could have (hopefully) nipped B's passive-aggressive behavior in the bud when it first started appearing (about six months after I started at SJ). I could have confronted him and asked that we agree on a method of delivering my paycheck (mailing it two days in advance, giving it to me the week it was due, dropping it off, whatever) and stick to it. I could also have requested that any reimbursement checks be written no more than a month after receipt, and that he raise any issues ASAP. However, I didn't do that. I just kept being powerless and letting him control everything. I completely and totally abdicated my authority as both a pastor and as an employee. After all, every employee has a right to receive his/her paychecks on time on a regular basis in a typical manner. In all the other jobs I've had, that has been the case...I've never received a paycheck late. So, asking to receive my paycheck on X day and in X manner would not have been unreasonable.

My CPE supervisor and I have identified authority issues as one of the major contributions I made to the SJ debacle. The other two major ones were a lack of self-confidence and avoidance of conflict. I've found all of those issues arising in the past two weeks, as I have had to deal with this tax thing. I also feel like I've regressed, and am really struggling with myself to be pro-active, to confront this thing head-on, and to go ahead and send that necessary e-mail (telling B that the W-2 needs to be corrected and that we still need our giving statement) and deal with whatever vitriol I might receive via the Internet. I'm trying not to get the pastor (who again, is a friend of mine) too involved because she's dealing with some major family issues, and it's not like this is HER fault.

This just makes me so mad...and brings back so many bad memories and feelings. One of the major wounds/scars I received was that I now have some trouble with paranoia in my personal relationships. My CPE experience has helped relieve some of that (my colleagues are all very reasonable, straightforward people) but it still arises at times like this. It's one of the reasons that I know I'm not ready to return to the local church as a pastor...I'm afraid my residual paranoia would negatively affect my ministry and relationships in the church.