A decade of tears & cheers

I'm coming up on my ten year anniversary as a pastor, and the day will be marked by my official start at a new appointment in northwest Kansas.

Thinking back, I've had lot of ups and downs, shouts of joy and painful crying, celebratory hugs and sympathetic hugs.

I started out ten years ago with three funerals in my first two weeks - Opal, Carolyn, and Bob. Three saints that helped me cut my teeth, and fast.
In the funerals I've done, I can't escape the memories of Lela, a community matriarch, or Gary, known for his heroic actions before his death, or Gary, who had a goal of watching his daughter down the aisle no matter what it took, or Gladys, who died while going to help someone - something that she always did, or Harold, who no matter what differences he had, would still help someone if it was really needed, or Wade, who loved life and kept humor in everything, even if it meant taunting a teacher about football teams or clicking his wheelchair while a certain pastor was preaching.
This list is no way complete - it's only a piece of some of those who taught others about celebrating life to the fullest, all the way to the glory of God.

I've also shared in so many joys, such as the first baptism - his name is Logan, and it was on Sept 11, 2004. There was also the time I did an immersion baptism of three kids and the entire congregation coming to celebrate the event. There was also times when I was baptizing a child and parent, or siblings. There is even the time I baptized Rich, fourteen hours before he passed away.

Each wedding has been a joy in it's own self. The mom who had her children walk her down the aisle, or as I mentioned before, the dad who successfully walked his daughter down the aisle, or the couple who faced adversity to make their day an even more special one.

I've seen lots of love in my churches, and of course, there have been some downers - folks who have let anxiety or rumors or whatever demons get in the way of Kingdom-building. But love always prevails - the love of some colleagues who have helped me in some dark days, or the love shared with cancer fighters, or the love of my child in the congregation who has helped everyone remember what Christmas is all about.

Looking back, it's has been a long ten years, and a quick ten years. It has been a time of loving and caring, bearing one another's pains and sharing in our joys.

So here's to the next ten years, and the tears and cheers that it will bring.

And the sadness sets in...

This is crunch-week.
It's the final wire to packing, moving, unpacking, getting settled into a new community, and all while the wave of emotions topple me over. It's happening while I'm excited for a fresh start in a great area as the new pastor of a very country church and a larger city church; while I'm sad to depart from many terrific people and some that I can call good friends; while I'm overwhelmed with the headaches of packing, ensuring that the right stuff is packed appropriately and labeled correctly for the moving company; while answering the phone to various well-wishes and goodbyes.

I did get a chance to meet my new secretary last week. We had a great conversation, hopefully figured out a manageable relationship, and me seeing that this person likes to have a system so that everything gets done in a way to make her job easier.
I like that. It means that all I have to do is "fill in the blank and let her be". It means that I can spend some time getting settled in, visiting some folks, and getting things unpacked around the house and office.

I also got to meet the groundskeeper for the church, a very nice guy with a plan and the best way to get things done for all people involved. I'll hear from him when he needs access to my house or I'll see him go through the church to get to whatever he needs to the sprinklers, I'll see him when he's mowing and trimming, and other than that, as long as everything is done, we're all good.

As excited as I am, I'm also sad to depart from some great people. These are the people that I can truly say as made an impact for the good for my pastoral ministry.
There are always a couple of people like this, and as I think back over my ten years as a pastor, I can still tell you their names, their family, and somewhat more about them. In comparison, I sometimes forget my name.

I'm also sad to leave some people who are fairly new to the ministry I've had in Pierce & Osmond. I think back to the boy who spent over a year in the hospital after a transplant, only to have the transplant removed. Because of his extended stay, I had to do his baptism in his hospital room, and while every baptism is special to me in some way, his also had a unique twist to it. I'm also sad to leave a few kids who started coming to the Pierce church this past Fall and continued to come because, as their mom put it, "we like Rev Kev" (but I think they were more fond of my dog, Dingo). When they came to the Farewell Reception on my last Sunday afternoon, we must have hugged a dozen times.

There are also two or three couples who recently started to come to one of my churches, all with intentions of a future wedding there by some silly guy who they liked. In the short time that I got to know them, I've grown very fond of them and excited for the new lives ahead of them. I'm going to miss them.

And while all of this stuff is bouncing around in my head, I'm overwhelmed by the finished boxes, the partial, waiting to be filled, boxes, and the trash that has accumulated, compliments of the "well, maybe I really don't need to save this" concept that seems to be all so evident this week. Thank goodness that I can rent a dumpster from the city for a few days to make things easier for the garbage guys tomorrow.

All of this is sad, depressing, and can raise my anxiety to a Defcon 1. But I also have to pause and thank every single person who has been there for me, in the thick and the thin, in the easy and in the rough, in the down and in the joys.

So with a sad but thankful heart, I say "Blessings" as I go, and "Blessings" as I arrive.

Another chapter

I've been involved with public service since before I graduated high school. It started with being an Explorer Scout with the Pickerington Police & Fire Explorers, learning and taking part in various law enforcement and firefighting responsibilities. When I was in the US Air Force, I volunteer in different response jobs as well as being on a community Search and Rescue team. While I was in the Air Force, I took my first Emergency Medical Technician training, continuing the education all of these years. I've also been on a couple of volunteer fire departments on the past decade.
I don't mention these things to brag - I'm saying that I've worked for 35 years to do something that is about as dear to my heart as pastoring is... giving to help or assist others.

One things I've learned in my years is that the best teams get things done when everyone on the team, from the highest in command to the newest rookie, work as one unit, recognizing the gifts and talents and ideas of everyone, and when the command knows the limitation of everyone, especially themselves.
When people work as one, things can run like a well-oiled machine. When someone ignores the links of the chain (bottom and top) time, money, and resources become stretched and can (and many times will) break.

Sure, I understand that people want to help, and it can be frustrating when one is waiting for information to be passed along, but as with just about every emergency, a team cannot go in until they know what's going on. A dispatcher gets as much information before rolling the crews. A hazardous material response team won't go into an area until they have all the details - including the temperature, wind direction & speed, and sometimes humidity and water level. You might even take note that the haz-mat team won't go into certain areas until they stop, get all of the information, suit up for the necessary conditions, and then team-up again.

Over the past few years, I've had the opportunity to be part of different emergency groups to provide assistance, but I also have come to realize that as the responder rule goes - You have to take care of yourself first before you can care for others - I have to reevaluate my roles. Positions I've held as caused me to look again and command structures as well as the ability of others to listen and assist instead of "trying to be in charge".

As I turn a new chapter in my life - taking a new pastoral appointment and moving to a somewhat new region, it's time to do what *I* have to do. I know my abilities and limitations, and I know when to stay out of danger. So it's time to step back from the fire.

A dusty corner of my mind

I read a blog by Lisa Jakub a little while ago that talked about her trip to a Book Expo in New York and meeting James Frey, someone who Oprah Winfrey discounted because some things in Frey's Memoir weren't accurate.

Her blog seemed to center around memories, and how we may remember things as they were, or remember them as we think it happened. She gave an example of being interviewed once and getting a tidbit a little off, being corrected by her mom. The center statement I feel she was trying to make was that it's not exactly *what* we remember, so much as it is *how we put what we remember to something good*.

I can relate - probably all too well. When I was taking some classes at the Seminary north of Columbus, Ohio, I took advantage of some sightseeing. After all, I grew up near there.
Sure, there are a lot of different things, the traffic is a lot worse than I recall, and the growth is amazing, but still, all of that, even though it has changed, is a part of me.
Like when I drove to Groveport Ohio to go to church. I could drive down the roads in Groveport to find the church that I went to as a kid, but to get to Groveport was a different experience.

One day I mentioned about going to Bucyrus to a bratwurst festival. It was great - the streets filled with people trying different brats and such, the smell of grilled brats through the town, and the simple "small town street fair" atmosphere. It all reminded me of when I was a kid and my family drove there once... I remember sitting along the sidewalk eating my brat with my brothers and sister. The difference was I *wasn't* at a festival. At best, dad must have driven through the town and we stopped to get lunch.
Maybe it was the idea of having a brat, or the smell of the grilled brats, or the old small town atmosphere that jogged my memory as it did.

As I am getting ready to move to a new appointment, a new place with a lot more people to remember each week, and learning a different community and way of life, I often stop to think back of how I've gotten here. The different people who have helped shape my life, those who probably couldn't wait for me to move, and some who will always be in my heart because of the impact they made on my life. I go through old boxes as I repack some things, considering all that I've done and what more I can do in my new setting.
I even found an envelope from a young gal in my last appointment who was afraid that I would forget about her (for the record, I never forgot her).

Sure, there are some facts of my past that I might not have exactly right, and there are some that others remember quite differently. How we remember things is connected to why we remember them. But one thing is for sure - I have my memories, and a lot of good ones at that.