Learning to live at the end
Fragile. I live in this world as if I am holding in my hand crumbling sand. My child asked for a bulletproof backpack for school. My colleague Anas sits in a prison in Israel. Donald Trump is neck and neck in the polls with Joe Biden. A woman in Ohio is arrested for a miscarriage. I don’t find myself in despair but instead drawn back to others who can help me know how to live within these days, finding what we can along the way.
Living with resilience
This was the hardest year of my pastoral ministry. I’d like to say that the sunny side of this was building resilience, not letting things get to me, that I can do hard things. But instead, what I realized is that I don’t want resilience. I don’t want to be hardened to people. I don’t like shielding myself off because when that happens, the things you need to hear, the things that actually are true, can’t get in. And I’m sad about this thicker skin, but I have it, like it or not.
Reorganizing organizing
I set an intention for myself this year – to be attentive to the places and people with whom I organized my time. I realized that my life, my wellness, my body also matters in the world we want to see come into being. If those around me can’t imagine that for me, how can we imagine it together? I gave myself permission to leave when I needed to leave.
No five-year plan
I’m not much for goals and I don’t have ambition pushing me up or out. I settled into this part of myself more deeply this year, wondering with intention what might be next but ending the year with open and empty hands. Nothing audacious before me, only the weeks and months ahead. A comfort of sorts, to be here now.
Things break
My children break things all the time. I stopped trying to own any sort of matching kitchenware long ago. Now, we cycle through Habitat for Humanity Re:store glasses and dishes with frequency. Every time, my children are upset at the breakage. Some of the things they break are important to me but I’ve learned, this year more than ever, that so much of what we have is temporary. Some important things broke this year and I’ve learned to say, as I do to my children, “don’t worry. Everyone makes mistakes. Let’s clean this up and find something new.”
Yes! Well said, Melissa. My mantra has become “Mistakes help us grow.” Here’s to new growth in the new year!