Happy New Year! Welcome to the 20's! I'm actually pretty psyched for a return of some of the better parts of the roarin' 20s. (I love the Great Gatsby). My social media has been blowing up yesterday and today with posts about "new year, new me" and recaps of how great or mostly great the last year has been for them. I did a list of resolutions that I'd like to try to keep... 1) Find something that I can intentionally spend time doing with Lucas 2) Start cardio drumming again at least 3 times a week (first one tomorrow evening at 7) 3) Set and keep intentional prayer times each day at least twice a day 4) Study Spanish at least once a week [have to start somewhere] (first one-on-one lesson next Thursday) 5) Make intentional time to be with David. 6) Learn more about autism, become more of an advocate 7) Spend more time with my mom 8) Be more of an advocate for us in terms of sharing our adoption profile 9) Be reckleslessly and joyfully kind even in the face of adversity 10) regularly attend Lions Club meetings I know my resolutions are earth shattering or innovative. But, I like them, they are goals that matter to me. Where I really find myself struggling is the whole idea of "the year in review." Facebook keeps trying to give me a photo year in review, but since it uses profile pictures and I use old pictures as profile pics, it's a bit ridiculous. You see, 2019 was a tough year for me. It was the first full year without my dad. I still found myself going to call him on the holidays, or send him a message, or ask my mom about how he's doing. It's been interesting as I know the way grief works and that it's not the same for everyone and all that, but being in the midst of the grief has me critiquing the way in which I am grieving. So, that's a thing. Baby girl did not find her way to us this year which has been incredibly difficult. I really thought this was going to be the year that our little family became complete. Missing someone who isn't here yet, I've found, is almost as difficult as missing someone who'd not here anymore. Waiting for baby girl has been a test. It's a hard thing to grieve out loud because people want to be loving and helpful. "It'll be in God's time." "She's on her way." "It's just not the right time." are common phrases I've heard. And I know that they are all true. I get that this is going to be in God's time and that God's time is not my time, but I want to be angry about that... I want to be sad about that. Scripture is filled with people who were not patient waiters and God still worked in their lives. The Israelites grumbled the whole 40 years in the wilderness. Sarai mourned and gave up on the ability to have children to the point she laughed when it was prophesied. If God can handle their doubts and sorrow, surely God can handle my grief. I regularly come up with reasons why she isn't here, my personal favorite being that with Lucas's diagnosis of Autism and his difficulties with transitioning into Kindergarten, it would have been a difficult time to bring a new little one into the picture. Waiting for God to bring our new co-pastor to St. Luke's was another way I explained it to myself. It will make the way straighter if I had a co-pastor to step in during maternity leave. Yet, no matter how many really great statements I offer myself or am offered, it doesn't change the fact that my heart grieves and longs for the little one who isn't here yet. It's like being so close to finishing a puzzle but there is one piece that is missing and no matter what I do, I can't finish it, I have to wait for someone else to bring the piece to me. If you want to help us out and spread the word about our desire to adopt, share this link that goes to our adoption site. davidandrobyn-adopt.com If you're anything like me, you might be thinking "Ok Robyn, just shake yourself out of it." But, David has been working with me to be a little more gentle with myself. So, I looked back at my year again and what I saw was that there were more things - both big and little - that contributed to this feeling of crawling across the calendar into a new year. As I mentioned above, our (almost) 6 year old Lucas was diagnosed with autism. That has been a hard and exhausting journey. I am not unfamiliar with autism. I had a pretty good sense of it. But it was like something out of an alternate reality when I was living with that new understanding of my son day in and day out. In case you're interested, there are many ways to berate, belittle, and blame yourself when your child gets this diagnosis. All of which are ridiculous. Also, it's even to feel like the world is ending. And, well, it kind of is. The world that I knew as a mom, as a working mom, has changed drastically in the last year. I've always been a schedule oriented person but with Lucas it has had to go to a whole new level. There are so... so.... so many doctors appointments. There was his struggle to adapt to Kindergarten - multiple times having to go and pick him up because it was just not working. I got to know the ISD staff really well. And I am super grateful for them. They have been incredible people and if you have a child with special needs. do not hesitate to get to know your ISD staff because they understand navigating the twists and turns and can be some of your biggest supports and champions. On top of the doctors and the calls to pick him up there were the multiple IEP meetings to figure out how to help him. My calendar ended up looking like a blob of color on my screen because David is in blue, I'm in pink, office is in purple, Lucas is in teal, babysitters are in green, and cursory stuff that I need to keep in mind are in yellow... I just wanted to cry at times. Sometimes I did. Sometimes I yelled and railed against the unfairness. I wrote and erased more emails than I have in the last 10 years. You may have noticed that part of my resolutions for the new year involve autism. I still have a lot to learn and I want to become and advocate, not just for us and for Lucas, but eventually for other parents/guardians who are trying to navigate the unpredictable waters of autism. Then, there were the little things that on their own aren't all that much, but cumulatively can be crushing. The phone calls to friends I meant to make and didn't. The visits I wanted to undertake and didn't. Little odd jobs around the house that I told myself could wait til the next time I had time. Missed bedtimes, words spoken in anger, disconnection between myself and loved ones... This world is not helping either. There are so many things... but I won't go there. This is not the post for that. Suffice it to say, there was a person I wanted to be at 12:01 am on January 1, 2019 and at 11:59 pm on December 31, 2019 I fully realized how much I'm not that person. (Ok, you got me, it was technically more like 10:18 pm when I told myself I was still a rock star and went to bed). Which is why the year in review thing is a struggle for me. Because I could easily recount the joys of the year. The weddings I presided over. The people I was able to interact with and help. The youth I was able to spend time with. Time with my son and my husband that I wouldn't trade for anything. All of that is there. But... my remembrances of those times always seem tinted by my realization of not being who I wanted to be at that time. Wanting to be healthier (but too lazy); wanting to have more time with loved ones (but deciding I'm too busy), wanting to be kinder, smarter, wiser, happier... That little voice in my head that likes to point out all the places I didn't quite make it. And it just feels like I start every new year with this little pile of stuff that whirls in with all the unmet expectations, the unrealized hopes, the scars and sorrows that are still there... and I always seem to feel like I'm entering each year a little more tired, a little slower, a little more weighed down by what I am carrying... So, instead of roaring into the 20's, I feel like I'm dragging myself in with a squeak. With all of this clattering around my head last night and this morning, I made a decision. "Happy New Year" is not going to be a simple pleasantry for me. "Welcome to 2020" won't be a simple greeting. I am going to come into this year with "Cheers to a new year" on my lips like a battle cry. I'm going to bring with me the things that need to come, I'm going to leave behind the things that will always be what they have been, and I'm going to be recklessly kind.
I am going to endeavor to be extravagantly kind to people I disagree with, with people I don't know, with people I know too well, and I'm going to be recklessly kind with myself. I am going to push myself to strive for my goals but I'm also going to forgive myself when I mess up. I am going to be unapologetic in my grief, both for my dad and for the baby girl I have yet to meet. The desire to embrace and live into the grief instead of trying to avoid it or deny it will be stronger this year. I want to be able to demonstrate healthy grief in a world that still struggles to understand or welcome it. 2020 isn't magically going to be the most amazing year. I understand that. There are going to be struggles and sorrows and pains and frustrations. But, I want it to be a year that when I reach December 31 I look back and realize that I did my best, that I approached difficult situations with kindness and peace, and that I forgave more than I held grudges. If I can look back on this year and say it's defining word is "grace" I will be happy. So, to all my friends out there who are entering this new year carrying a lot of the pains and sorrows and stresses of 2019, be gentle with yourself. And maybe join me in my battle cry: "Cheers to a new year!"
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Didja miss me? Sorry to deprive you of my stellar wit and delightful personality for so long. But as is typical whenever someone chooses to put themselves out there, especially in such a public forum, in addition to the lovely, supportive comments I received there were also some cruel, negative comments which made me stop and consider if I wanted to continue blogging. As you're reading this post perhaps you've figured out that I have decided to continue. I really missed blogging and find a lot of joy in doing this, so hopefully you also find joy in reading it. So, the gist of the negative feedback I got was: "This stuff is too personal to be sharing as a a blog." "This is inappropriate for a pastor." "People will not feel comfortable coming to you because they know you have depression and don't want to hurt your feelings." So, I thought through all of this. Yes, I understand that for some people they might feel as though what I am sharing is too personal and is like "airing dirty laundry." Here's how I see it though, it's my laundry to choose whether or not to air it. I am choosing to share my stories because I have the hope that maybe someone, somewhere, will benefit from what I have experienced. As for whether or not it is appropriate for a pastor, I believe it is, trusted colleagues and guides have shared with me their support, and many other pastors have blogs. I feel confident it is within the realm of appropriateness. Finally, I truly hope that no one feels unable to come to me because of my depression. I am a professional in addition to being a regular person. There are many, many people who are able to do their jobs while having depression. It's important to remember that depression is different than just being sad or having hurt feelings. It is a lot about how the brain works including imbalanced chemicals in the brain, faulty mood regulation by the brain, genetic vulnerability, stressful life events, medications, and medical problems. It's believed that several of these forces interact to bring on depression. This often means that even though two people may have the same type of depression, the things going on inside causing it may be completely different and therefore need completely different methods of treatment. If you like science-y stuff this is a good, detailed page that describes how complex depression is: www.health.harvard.edu/mind-and-mood/what-causes-depression Separate from my depression, though, I am fully capable of separating any hurt feelings I might have from my ability to provide pastoral care. Because here's the reality, pastors are professionals and normal humans all rolled into one. I have feelings and emotions and even illnesses just like any other person. But I also have all the requisite training for my profession to be able to work through these things and to not let my feelings impact how I choose to give pastoral care. I love my congregation, my people, and I fully understand and genuinely believe that people are completely capable of disagreeing and still caring for one another. Which all led to the title for this post: "life in the spotlight." While there are plenty of professions that place people in the spotlight, my most direct experience is through my profession as a pastor (obviously). I believe that it is amplified in a two pastor household and I hope for Lucas and eventual baby girl's sakes, that it's not quadrupled for them. So, here is a brief story about my mom's best friend's husband (did you follow that? If not, check the infographic below) My mom's best friend's husband, we called him Uncle Rev, was a Missouri Synod Lutheran pastor. He and his wife had a brood of children. (In case you're unsure of what constitutes a brood, it's more than 5 and less than a bakers dozen). And in that brood there were A LOT of boys. Uncle Rev and Auntie Laverne lived next door to his congregation with their brood that contained many boys. One evening, late at night, there is a knock on their door and it is the police wanting to let him know that there were reports of noise in the basement of the church and they wanted him to go over with them to check it out. Turns out that those noises were those boys from their brood playing basketball in the basement of the church. I know this story even though it happened before I had been born because my mom loved to tell it. But it was also very public in that it was in the police blotter since the police had to report to the church on this call. That means that it was in the congregation. Which means that Uncle Rev, Auntie Laverne, and their brood heard this story over and over, and it means that the congregation kept this story alive and offered their own perspectives and opinions on it for years. Sometimes there might be feelings of Big Brother watching... All of this is to say that pastors and their families often find themselves in the spotlight, whether or not that's where they desire to be. By the very nature of our calling our lives become open to public scrutiny and we are often held to much higher standards than other people. And because we live in a society that watches very closely and has much easier access to the lives of others, those eyes don't go away. Funny story on how much we can be in the public eye. At my first call we lived in the parsonage (the house right next to the church). It was a beautiful home in a farming community outside of the town. It was on a country road that had a speed limit of around 45 mph - 55 mph. Our home had a lovely picture window that looked out onto our spacious front lawn and this country road. Just shortly after we had moved in and were sitting in our living room watching tv with our dog, Chloe, with our picture window curtains open, a car was driving by, slowed down to about 10 mph and the person in the car stared in through our window. It wasn't anyone we knew or came to know, but when the church's house's window is open, it is an invitation to check out what the pastor and family are up to. I love this shirt. Granted, as an ELCA pastor, I believe that we are simultaneously saint and sinner, but this shirt just makes me smile every time. It's such a reminder that even though I may be a pastor I am still just an ordinary person with flaws and fears and trials. I'm not any better than anyone else. Often this calling asks pastors to put more of themselves into what they are doing - sermons, pastoral care, articles that have been written. Aggressive criticism can feel like a direct assault to our personhood. (Again, though, this is all gone over in seminary as we prepare to live into this calling and we learn to differentiate ourselves). Honestly, this can apply to most of the in the public eye positions in a congregation (musicians, Sunday school teachers, Bible study teachers, etc). A note here on the difference between criticism and critique: Criticism - finds faults, intentionally seeks what is lacking, condemns what it doesn't understand, is spoken with a cruel wit and sarcastic tongue, negative, vague/general, seeks flaws with the person as much as the product. Critique - looks for both flaws and positives, finds what is working, asks for clarification, is kind, honest, and objective, is positive (even about things that are working), is concrete and specific, addresses only the product and not the producer. Add to this being a couple that has chosen to seek adoption as the way to grow our family, even our family planning becomes public property. Conventional couples don't tend to share with their employers that they are actively trying to get pregnant. That's usually a pretty private affair. Even after conception, it's typical to not widely share the news of the pregnancy until about the end of the first trimester. For couples seeking adoption, unlike pregnancies, there's not always a way to predict the timing of the birth since sometimes the call comes in that the birth mother/birth father have chosen you and the baby is already here. So, this involves keeping the church council and the congregation updated as to where we are in the process because they may receive a call that we have a baby. In my own personal experience it feels like bringing the board of directors and entire company in on the fact that we are trying to conceive. There are more reasons why David and I choose to share that we are seeking to adopt with our church families, but that is for a different post. Really, this whole post really comes down to asking that kindness be your instinct in responding to others. Kindness does not have to mean agreement, again disagreement can still exist between people who care for one another. Kindness means thinking through your responses before offering them.
Again, you can disagree and have different points of view than another person and still care for them. (I can't emphasize this point enough.) There are enough things in this world ready to bring us down and tear us apart and try to extinguish that light within us. We differentiate ourselves by nurturing and caring for that light in one another so that it grows.
And for all of you who find yourselves in the spotlight, whether or not you desire it, please know I see you, I love you, I respect you, and I admire you. |
AuthorI've been Robyn for my whole life. I've been a wife for 10 years and a mom for 5 years. I've been a pastor for about 10 years. I'm still stumbling, but I'm still standing. Archives
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