Not-so-little stories: History 101
Since 1994, three realities–Wichita, family, and youth ministry–defined our life (‘our’ being my husband and I). Last fall, one element changed. Neil left youth ministry. This was not a quick or flippant decision; it was, in fact, a step taken after a few years of prayer and discussion and confusion and squinting to discern shapes in the fog. Neil had always felt that youth ministry was his lifelong call, so the idea of transitioning to a different kind of ministry required multi-faceted confirmation. He left youth ministry in order to enter a specific seminary degree program, which would have been impossible to do while keeping the youth ministry schedule. Unlike many ministry transitions, this one did not carry the emotional weightof actually leaving the church community. Since 1999, I’ve been on staff at the same church as Neil, working in music and worship. And I’m keeping my job. So we didn’t leave the church. Which made the ensuing ‘farewell’ gatherings for Neil really interesting.
Neil began his seminary work last October (it’s a distance learning thing for the most part) and at the same time began a new ‘day job’ in video production for a small-yet-scrappy media company. Also last fall, we made the decision to send our daughter to a different school, and my part-time job at church grew in both scope and time commitment. And these were all, in some way, answers to our prayers.
Neil has had to adapt to a job that is completely and totally in every way opposite from his previous job, and he has had to figure out how to do school stuff around the demands of work and family. He loves his job and he loves the material he’s studying for school. Being the visual person who communicates in pictures, the writing part of graduate studies has not been his favorite. But he has worked hard, and he has learned a lot, and he’s still going and going and going.
I like to think of myself as a resiliant person…. flexible…. adaptable. But these transitions last fall sent me reeling. (It occurs to me now that I probably should have been medicated, at least over the holidays.) I became this over-stressed, cranky, unsatisfied person who would most likely be found in tears on the kitchen floor every night after getting the kids to bed. I couldn’t understand why I was having such a hard time adjusting. I couldn’t understand why it was flipping me out to handle kids’ schedules, childcare schedules, my new work schedule, plans for a new worship service, all while actually seeing my husband less than before. I rearranged priorities…. dropped expectations…. read motivational wall-hangings…. nothing helped. And guilt…. how could I complain about the ramifications of having our prayers answered?
Somehow, during the first part of this year, the anxiety began to lift and the fog began to clear. The schedule seemed manageable, and there was even cooking occasionally. I began to be able to focus on the parts of things that really needed my attention. Having made it through the end of the school year and into the summer, there’s even room for good-natured reminiscing about all the years in youth ministry. As opposed to a few months ago when someone would very kindly ask me if I ‘missed’ youth ministry and I’d want to pin them to the wall with a stapler. I think we’ve worked toward adjusting priorities in a good way. Neil and I have more open conversations than we used to about how our work and obligations are affecting each slice of our family. These are good things. These are ongoing, daily things. There is no point of ‘arrival’, or neat lesson learned. There is only every day, eye-to-eye, reality that is sometimes victorious…. sometimes frustrating… sometimes barely-squeaking-by. Real life found here.
