"Marian, Madam Librarian:"

Ah, the testing.  Insightful at times.  Questionable at times.  Humorous at times.

On Wednesday of this week I went and met with the psychologist that the synod had selected to review my readiness to resume pastoral ministry.  It was a marathon session, lasting from 11 in the morning to nearly 4 in the afternoon.  In addition to a lot of conversation with the psychologist and another mental health professional she had present, there was the MMPI to take.  The strongest result of the MMPI was that I was an introvert.  OK, I knew that.  Roughly 2/3 of all pastors are likewise introverts.  

What was most interesting was getting the results of the Strong Interest Inventory, a test aimed at getting at your ideal vocations.  At first glance the results seemed to be what I'd anticipate.  My five top interest areas were:

1. Religion and Spirituality
2. Counseling and Helping
3. Writing and Mass Communication
4. Performing Arts
5. Mechanics and Construction

Now, my immediate reaction was that for someone with  28 years of pastoral ministry experience, who is also an accomplished musician and furniture builder, these made a lot of sense.  Yep, that's who I am.

And then came the recommendation.  

The top ten occupations suggested were:

1. Librarian
2. Rehabilitation Counselor
3. Urban and Regional Planner
4. Architect
5. Editor
6. Training and Developmental Specialist
7. Musician
8. Human Resources Manager
9. Translator
10. Arts/Entertainment Manager

Librarian?  What?  Where did that come from?  Religious leader did show up on the list but it didn't make the top ten.  Librarian?

As I shared with the psychologist, there is nothing remotely interesting to me, at all, not the slightest bit, about being a librarian, at least as I understand that vocation, and I'll admit, that my understanding of it is limited.  Some of the suggested vocations make sense, though I'd question whether they were my top interests.  An editor, for example, would make sense if it involved writing editorials.  On the other hand, as someone who struggled more with foreign language classes than any other course work, translator seems a bit of a stretch.  Were I to change vocations, I could very much see myself as a chemical dependency counselor due to my background.  And at one point in my life, I was intent on becoming a professional tuba player, so that too makes sense.  

All that said, at the age of 59, all this talk of "preferred vocations", given my interests, is a bit of a moot point.  To retrain at this point (getting a degree in the library sciences, for example .  .  . ugh, the very thought makes me cringe,) would take a significant amount of time, money, and would not likely pay off in the long run.  I really would enjoy being an architect, true.  But I'm not about to go back to college, earn that degree, and then at the age of 63 or 64 try and break into a new career.  Not likely to become the next Frank Lloyd Wright.  

We did talk a lot about ministry.  I haven't seen her final report, yet, though I did press her for an initial reaction to our conversation.  Her primary concern that she shared was that I not relocate at this time.  It is essential that I be able to continue my relationship with my health care team as I'm still quite new at this business of living with a bipolar diagnosis.  That I would agree with 100%.  

Another reaction that came about in the conversation, was in response to my sharing that my wife has been concerned that reentry into ministry might trigger a relapse of the bipolar symptoms.  "What guarantees could you offer her?"  "In life, there are no guarantees." was my response.  I think that the best that I can offer, is that I now know how to respond should symptoms of mania or depression resurface.  That is helpful, regardless of what occupation I pursue.

A final thought:  The question came up about what precautions I might take to protect the congregation I serve from becoming a 'victim' of my manic impulses, should they arise.  My response-- I'll inform them that if I put any proposal on the council's agenda that involves spending more than a million dollars, they should check with the bishop first.  

Sound advice.  

"Crazy Dave"

"Crazy Dave"

That's a moniker that one of my supervisors at work uses for me.  Another supervisor has described my personality at work at mellow, and laid back.  The "crazy Dave" name is used in jest, as many of my coworkers carry similar nicknames, depending on who your talking about.  But whenever I hear it, I laugh to myself and think, "Oh, if only he knew."

Today,  I'm up early again as my mind is thinking about the evaluation I will be having.  After work this afternoon I am  heading to Richland, WA where I will be meeting with the Synod's psychologist tomorrow for an evaluation to determine my readiness to return to pastoral ministry.  I'm uncharacteristically at peace with this whole process.  I don't  perceive a problem.  But I do find certain things interesting.

One of the questions on the preliminary interview form that I was asked to fill out was about pornography.  "How often do you visit porn sites on the web?  Daily?  Occasionally?  Not at all?"  OK, so lets just say to begin with that viewing porn sites is generally "frowned upon in this establishment" that is our home.  Not only that, without having to rely on personal experience of porn sites, over my years in the ministry I have dealt with the harmful effects of porn in my parishioner's lives.  "Women like to be taken by force" is an actual statement made to a woman in my congregation by her spouse.  That man did not learn that from women, I can assure you, but from porn sites, no doubt.

As I've thought about that question though, I'm reminded of something I was told back in seminary days, during Clinical Pastoral Education, that psychological tests often have questions that are designed to measure, not any particular response, but the basic honesty with which the test is being answered.  "If you could get away with it, would you keep money that was not yours?" was one such question.  The assumption is that if we are being totally honest, all of us would do that given the opportunity, and the purpose of the question is to see if we're being honest enough to admit that.  I'm suspicious that the question about porn may be a similar "truth barometer".  

(For the record, as an adolescent victim of an abusive relationship with a band director, I was exposed to an unhealthy dose of pornography.  For example, he took me to "Clockwork Orange" while I was in junior high.  I found out then that the eroticism of porn is always mixed with its repulsiveness.)

I'm also going to be taking the MMPI.  Is that the one that asks repeatedly about whether or not you look at your stools after going to the bathroom?  I took one test years ago that did.  Repeatedly.  I thought that whoever wrote this test sure has a fascination with people's potty habits. 

All that aside, as I anticipate going through yet another evaluation I find myself confronted with the question of presentation.  When I was being evaluated for disability, those conducting the interviews were primarily interested in any sign of health that would enable them to deny my disability.  When being screened for fitness to return to work, there would be a natural tendency to focus on any evidence that would call into question whether I am ready.  And so there is this question of presentation, specifically, do you try to present yourself in a positive or negative light, depending on the nature of the evaluation.  When I was being evaluated for qualifying for disability benefits it is natural to focus on those things that prohibit one from functioning in a healthy manner.   As I'm being evaluated now for fitness to reenter the ministry, it is natural to try and present myself in a positive light, minimizing any difficulties.

Somewhere in the middle, lies the truth.  (Isn't that an interesting phrase?  "Lies the truth.")  There is part of me that longs for a comprehensive neutral evaluation.  Not skewed for any particular outcome, but which genuinely deals with the full spectrum of how I'm doing, without prejudice.

I think that if we can get to that, the conclusion would be something like this.  Through extensive use of medication and therapy, he's made significant progress in stabilizing his mood swings and is generally in a healthy place, though there will always be the risk that his moods could destabilize again due to certain triggers.  Continued monitoring and managing through medication and therapy will alleviate much of that risk, though not all.

Well, we'll see.

Torn between two lovers. . .

I'm happy to report that my insomnia has greatly improved now that I have gone back on Rozerem.  I actually slept all the way through the night on one occasion last week.  Thankfully, my wife heard my phone buzzing as I forgot and left it on vibrate.  That is only the second time in the last year that I have slept until the alarm rang.  I used to be able to sleep well into the morning.  Waking was hard, as was going to sleep.  But once asleep, I could remain asleep for 8 to 10 hours.  Today, I count it as a great accomplishment to sleep till the alarm rings at 3:45 am.  That's sleeping in.

This morning I awoke at 1:15 or so.  I laid back down for an hour.  But then, back up.

Part of the struggle is that I've grown to love the night.  I love the silent solitude.  The time to meditate.  To reflect.  To write.

And yet, when I sleep through the night, I'm much more productive during the day.  It feels good.  

The ongoing struggle with sleep is a reminder to me that, though I generally feel much better than I have in the past, there is still that ever present issue of my mental illness.  Manic times come and go.  As does the depression.  But the sleep disorder has been a constant.  

"May cause drowsiness. . ."  Four of my primary medications carry this warning.  When my physicians look at the list of drugs that I am on, their reaction tends to be that anyone of them should be sufficient to knock me out.  It would a normal person.  For example, Rozerem is a melatonin based medication, but, according to my doctor, 12,000 times more potent than the melatonin you can buy as a sleep aid.  And it helps.  But that is on top of three additional medications, some of which are themselves prescribed as sleep aids.  My brain seems to be like the Everready bunny - it just keeps on going. . .

Would that I could consistently sleep through the night.  And yet there would be a loss if I did.  That's my time.  Its when I think, and write.  A sermon that might take a good portion of the day to write, flows freely and quickly in the night.  

But I realize that there is something else going on.  Its a matter of identity.  This time has started to shape my identity.  As desperately as I want to sleep, there is also part of me that refuses to give up this part of my life.  Its a bit of a conundrum.  

Acceptance is one of the things I am learning through all of this.  Take each day as it comes.  There is little to be gained by wishing a particular day was different than it was.  Some nights I sleep better than others.  Some nights I enjoy the solitude and time to reflect.

One of the things that comes with that acceptance, is that it is a hedge against depression.  A major part of depression comes from the desire that things be different than they are, and the disappointment that they are not.  

To accept each day as it unfolds is to receive it with gratitude.  And a grateful heart is not a depressed heart.  And so today, this night, I'll simply give thanks for this time.  Perhaps in a while I'll be able to rest some more.  Perhaps, not.  It is what it is.  And that's alright.

Tranquility

It creeps up on you.  And then one day you realize that life is well.  All is calm.

Of course, those who have been reading my blog know that it has not always been that way.

For me, one of the signs that  things are much better is that I'm not sure if I should even be writing any more, or if I do, what should I write about.  Oh, my, no crisis, no clear manifestation of this disease, nothing that I could categorize according to the six major symptoms of mania, nor am I exhibiting signs of depression.

Sleep remains a problem.  True.  But it always has been.  I met with my neurologist, the sleep specialist on Friday, and I came to a conclusion.  When I lost insurance coverage for mental illness I also lost coverage for the one medication that had showed promise of really helping my insomnia - Rozerem.  At a cost of $300 or so per month, I felt at the time that I simply couldn't afford to continue it.  Now, with the hope that our financial situation will be improving, I am more convinced that $10 a day is a small price to pay, with or without insurance, to address this one last symptom.  And to be brutally honest, sleeping through the night would substantially reduce my smoking, and the cost thereof, offsetting some of the cost of the medication.  And so I'm going to try it.

The evaluations that I'm going through relative to my health are proceeding at a snail's pace.  First, my doctors, like so many, simply didn't drop everything to submit their reports to the Synod's psychologist.  Now that they have been submitted, the Synod's psychologist is out of town for a few weeks.  That said, unlike prior evaluations, I'm surprisingly calm regarding this one.

Part of that is in the living.  The purpose of this latest evaluation is to determine if I've stabilized enough to resume pastoral ministry.  And as the evaluation is unfolding, I am already serving a congregation as a supply pastor, and anticipate that this role will become an interim pastor.  If I'm successfully engaged in pastoral ministry, then that becomes a rather significant piece of the evaluation, doesn't it?  "Can he do it?  Well, he is doing it."

And so why write a blog post?  What's to report?

It is possible, with appropriate medication and therapeutic  support, for the mentally ill to stabilize and live a normal, functional, and yes, tranquil life.

I think that needs to be said.

It needs to be said in order to provide hope for people like me, during those times when it seems like the cycling and suffering will never stop.

It needs to be said so that some of the stigma related to mental illness may be alleviated.

Meanwhile, I will lead worship and preach in a few hours.  Monday morning I will go to my job in Hayden.  I will come home after the 10 hour shift, tired, but not depressed.  I will take a quick nap.  Have dinner.  Relax,  And go to bed.  Then do it all over again.

In the midst of all this, there are those opportunities to enjoy our grandchild, (and children).

All very normal things.

Rather good for a change.

"Pastor Dave"

Its not my first rodeo, but perhaps one of my most significant.

In a few hours I will greet the congregation at Peace Lutheran in Otis Orchards and begin a relationship that could last a few weeks, months, perhaps even longer.

And I will have the privilege of introducing myself once again as "Pastor Dave".

To a certain extent, leading worship again will be like riding a bicycle.  No matter how much time has past, the mechanics of it all will be second nature, and I will feel at home,  once again.  

But this matter of "Pastor Dave".  During the last few years I have had to make some adjustments.  I have been somewhat uncomfortable being referred to as pastor in the congregation  we've been attending in Newport.  I  may still be on the clergy roster, but I was not called to be their pastor.  I've served as treasurer and signed my name to reports as simply "Dave Olson".  There was a concerted effort to recreate my identity apart from the office of pastor.

And yet I also have found myself clinging to that identity as well.  My email address is pastordavidolson@gmail.com.  I turned to blogging because I needed to keep writing about that which matters.  It was a pulpit that was available to me.  "Pastor Dave" lived on in the wee hours of the morning at this keyboard.

What will be different today is that when people address me as "Pastor Dave", it will carry with it the connotation once again that its not just about my personal identity, but it will speak to a relationship with a congregation.  That is significant.

All this being said, I'm a different person today, than I was on January 27th, 2013.  (My last Sunday at First Lutheran.)

Today, I think I know better the meaning of "'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.'  So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me."

There is a part of me that feels vulnerable because of all I've publicly shared about my journey with being bipolar on this site and elsewhere as well.  I find myself wondering if those from Otis Orchards have explored my Facebook page, and learned of all my struggles.  And if so, what is their judgment?  

That being said, I think it fair to say that for any congregation to fully embrace me as their pastor, they will need to know me as a person as well.  To withhold a significant part of who I am from them, is to hold them at a distance.  

But there is a witness in all of this as well.  God's grace will be sufficient.  Our own weaknesses actually serve the purpose of helping us to more fully depend, not on our own abilities, but on the power of God.  I am reminded of John the Baptist's words:  "I am not the Messiah."  Just a voice crying out in the wilderness.

And in my weakness, bearing witness to the one who has all power.

"Pastor Dave" they will call me.  

And with the words "The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all" the service will begin.

"Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ."

And in the midst of these well worn words, I will find my voice once again, which is actually not my voice at all.  

That's my prayer, this morning.
Amen