It’s been for me a pressured week or two for me.
- Office politics
- Tour de France preparations for church
- Dealing with “admin-intense” members of congregation
- Heatwave in recent days
- Fridge-freezer at home being broken
First world problems, I know. But everyone reaches their limit. This week I’ve been aware that I need to ease off a bit and give myself some “me-time.” Who guards the guardians? Who cares for carers? Sometimes – nobody. Sometimes the caring moves on an Einbahnstrasse: a one-way street.
This week I’ve been quite blessed to have two fellow members of congregation possessing pastoral skills, who have been taken a large amont of “payload” off me, dealing with a member of congregation, who has been ill in hospital the past fortnight. This member of congregation has Ted Stryker tendencies. He is very “admin-intense” to use a British Army expression. (But Ted and his ways will form material for another blog article or three.)
All this week I’ve been feeling fatigued on coming home after work. Hour-long long lie-down next to tower fan, my current best friend in the heatwave. Earlyish into bed. No energy to even give my bathroom and kitchen a good clean-up. Many thanks, Schatz, for being Mrs Mopp this weekend. 🙂
After church service today I unloaded to two church confidantes to the effect that I was – for the first time in months – going to head home for a lazy Sunday afternoon. V asked if I would like to join her on a pastoral visit to “Ted.” I politely declined the invitation, explaining that “Ted” had been too “admin-intense” for me the past week and a half, with contacting hospital chaplains, as well as reading SMS messages that, in length, but not quality , rivalled Paul’s letters to:
- The Romans
- The Ephesian
- The Corinthians
- The Athenians
- The Americans
- The Albanians
- The Sunday Times
- The Daily Mail
I just needed time away from Ted. To correctly quote Greta Garbo:
I just want to be left alone.
V then thanked me for everything I do in church, which left me with a lump in my throat. I’m not a child. I don’t expect a pat on the head, a gold star, or to be sent to show my nice, neat handwriting to the headteacher. Nonetheless a sincerely expressed thank you is always well-received.
This afternoon I have spent precious hours flopped out on the sofa, writing my diary, listening to the radio and also planning further blog articles based on:
- Untranslatable expressions
- Vogon poetry (just kidding – I would not inflict that on anyone)
All things that I can really only do when I have proper “me-time.”
Then, while I was scribbling away in my diary, I remembered this beautiful hymn that I first heard a year or so ago. It has become my ear worm du jour. Here it is.
Have a well day, won’t you!