This past weekend I was struck with a very harsh reality from my family. As we sat down for breakfast Saturday morning I asked if they would be OK if I wrote that morning…. And that invited a deep conversation where my family told me they were worried about me and that they felt they were a task to be placed on my calendar.
In the entire discussion, I sat and listened to them as they expressed their concerns. One was that I don’t look happy when I’m doing the work of the congregation. Another concern was that I look exhausted and tired when I come home, like the church work I do is a chore. But the one that struck me and made me think was that they felt like they were a task.
I’ve been sitting on this for several days, I don’t want them to feel like a task. Listening deeply to them I want them to be able to come to me and plan things spontaneously, and also know and recognize that the things I do for the congregation I do out of love that these programs and events don’t fade away with no one to plan and organize them.
This also got me to think deeply about the congregation. Maybe; just maybe, these programs and events need to fall to the wayside if no one is willing to step forward and take them on. Is this the deep listening to the congregation that we need to move into the future on fundraisers and events? Do some things that aren’t as intensive in planning and organizing need to arise? These are questions that I ask myself and although I haven’t asked others, the answer seems to be there.
My family, friends, the congregation, they are not tasks to me. I love doing the work. I don’t love doing the work alone… and now the deep listening comes to me. I’m also not a task, I am not a task for others or myself. I love to help. I love to do things for people, but I don’t love doing it alone, which I do often (unfortunately by my own devices as I get embarrassed to ask others for help).
I’m working on asking for help, delegating and reminding myself to ask “is this a task for me?”
Candice Carver
