Passin’ Through 

Jubilation is not too strong a word to describe last week’s service at UUFH. I’m a little rusty – and we’ve yet to finalize ways to incorporate children, youth and their caregivers – but what a gift to be able to see one another in the flesh. 

While I couldn’t help but feel the joy among the gathered, there was also talk about weariness. Not everybody, not every moment, but a general sense of having finished a marathon not of our choosing. It’s as though we’ve crossed the finish line, but at great cost. 

It’s the same for me, this mix of celebration and weariness. Even the time I’ve set aside for personal renewal has been difficult to protect, so deep and wide have been the responsibilities of ministry over the past fifteen months. I’m so grateful for one more year with you, but I feel the same weariness I heard expressed on Sunday. 

So what does it look like, this mix of blessings and exhaustion? I believe it starts with self-inflicted expectations about ourselves and one another. We’ve all been traumatized in one form or another, most likely several. People were becoming sick, even dying. The people, places and habits that give our lives structure were taken from us. And we were put on chronic guard against the virus, suspicious of almost every other human being on the planet. Why would we not need some time to learn how to be in the world once again? 

Second, if COVID has shown us anything – congregationally as well as personally and professionally – it’s how to boil things down to their essentials. Letting go of trappings is an art to be practiced. We do indeed rejoice in the freedom we’re only now beginning to experience; but will we have the focus and follow-through to let go of things that didn’t matter that much in the first place? 

My point is, life after COVD is part reentry, part recovery. We’ve been through a lot, and sometimes it shows. 

As for Mary and me, we’re looking forward to my time away from the regular responsibilities of ministry. No big trips, just extra time together and with our families. Even if you don’t have such blessings of time, I ask that you join me in feeling both the joy and exhaustion. Find time and headspace to be gentle with yourself. Try something new and different. Remember how to laugh and cry at the same time. Then tell the Universe you’re still here.

Blessings, Don