Choices

Freedom is the capacity to choose.  It is the opportunity to direct the future in the way that makes the most sense to you and will best accomplish your goals.  I'm feeling a deep personal need to exercise that freedom, but it comes with some risk.

I'm not happy working at the cabinet shop.  I still love woodworking and combining my skills as a craftsman with  my love for ministry is working.  But, I'm not happy where I'm working and am contemplating returning to self employment.

Part of it is the shear exhaustion I feel working this schedule.  I rise at 2 to 3 every morning.  I have breakfast, perhaps a little extra sleep, then at 4:15 shower, following which I get into the car at 4:45 to commute to Hayden.  Work starts at 5:30.  Some days I work till 4 pm and return home.  Other days I work till 12:30 and then go and put in four hours or so at church.  I'm pretty exhausted by the time the weekend rolls around however I still write my sermon, prepare a bible study, and then lead worship.

Were I passionate about the work I'm doing at the cabinet shop this might be doable in the long run.  The hard thing though is that the work I'm doing is not particularly rewarding.  That and the work environment is at times horrendous.  The attitudes at work drive me crazy.  And, I'm not happy.

Freedom.  I have choices.  Life doesn't have to be this way.

What I've realized of late is that if I start drawing on my pensions, and my wife takes her social security, I would largely replace the income I've been receiving from the cabinet shop, and should I become self employed again operating "Olsons WoodWorks", all the income from that would be pure gravy.  Icing on top of the cake.  Bottom line is that even if I only made minimum wage, I'd be money ahead of where I am. 

There is risk.  There is some security in being gainfully employed by someone else, and knowing that they have plenty of contracts lined up to provide a steady stream of employment.

But there is another risk.  I've only one life to live.  And not being happy is not the preferred manner that I'd like to live it.

And so I'll evaluate options.  Consult with my dear wife.  Make choices.  And hopefully create a better tomorrow for my wife and I.

Mom: "Love the ones you're with."

After we had grown and gone our separate ways, Mom took stock of her life and made a very conscious decision.  She recognized that her children were not likely to ever live close to her.  That being the case, she determined to 'adopt' adult children to relate to.  It became one of the things that gave her life meaning.  "If you can't be with the ones you love, love the ones you're with."

I'm not even sure how many 'children' Mom had.  I know that she and Dad tended to take a special interest in young pastors in their cluster.  There were two families in Wessington Springs that became quite close.  Paul and Robyn, friends of mine from college, remained part of the family for years.  I've reflected a bit on this, and I've come to the conclusion that two things were very important for mom.  One, she had a deep need for loving and nurturing relationships, and two, she clearly wanted to make a difference in people's lives.

Life was not always easy for mom.  Later, when I had shared that I was receiving psychiatric treatment she remarked, "I've often thought that there were times in my life that I might have benefited from that."  Unfortunately for mom, she lived at a time and in a place where psychiatric care was not very accessible.  She ended up doing a bit of self medicating.  Throughout her life she took thyroid because of a deficiency, but clearly used it as a 'pick me up' in the morning.  She also had a running prescription for Benadryl which served as her sleep medication and cure all.  Later in life she would turn to alcohol as a sleep aid, and to 'cure' what was ailing her.  Chemical dependency issues run in families.  It was one legacy that I inherited.

Mom struggled to provide for us throughout the years, making do on a pastor's salary.  Her father was a reasonably well to do 'agri-businessman'.  She resented the poverty of ministry.

One of my early childhood memories was that Mom had determined to collect a silver dollar for each of the six of us, dated for our birth year.  One day, mom sent a couple of us to the store to buy a few things for supper.  She handed us Tim's silver dollar.  It was the only money they had to their name.

During that same time, Dad hunted to put meat on the table.  In 1962 he shot a big bull elk.  Big.  And tough.  Memories from that year included mom beating the meat with a tenderizing hammer, trying in vain to make it edible.  Hamburger stew had to be pressure cooked.  When the hamburger is tough. . .

Mom taught school for three years while we lived in Irene, SD.  We had a '64 Mustang at the time, which Mom would rev up to get started in the morning.  "Mustang Sally" was what my friends nicknamed her.  Mustang Sally.

One of the greatest joys of Mom's life was the lake place.  Grandpa and Grandma Michaelson's estate had been put in "Better Farms", the family corporation, and year after year they'd make distributions which Mom and Dad put toward the purchase of the 'cabin'.  There she was in her element.  She loved hosting people there.

Finally, one of the memories I am most humored by was Mom's desire for grandchildren.  When Arden and Kathryn, or Karla and I, would come home to visit mom would make sure and place a clock radio in the guest room, and would inform us that she'd had found this to be very beneficial for when she and dad needed privacy.  .  .  She also knitted a cute Raggedy Anne and Andy afghan which was designated for the first grandchild.  Karla and I ended up delivering Katie as the first grandbaby.  It was also great that my first call was in Thompson Falls, seventy miles from Mom and Dad's, so for a brief while they could be near us and their grandchildren.  

I dare say that those years as the grandchildren were coming into the world, one by one, were the happiest years of mom's life.  

Miss you Mom.

Resilience and the art of bouncing back

"You certainly have resilience cornered. . ."

These are the words of a Facebook friend, familiar with my blogs, and I appreciate them.  My response was that if you get knocked on your butt often enough you either die or learn to bounce back.  The latter is preferable. 

This is not the first time I've been associated with that word/concept.  One of my friends once said "You win the 'landing on your feet' award for this year."  My bishop once remarked "Your resilience continues to amaze me."

OK, well, so enough already.  Resilience is not a trait that I'd encourage people to cultivate, simply because it involves getting up after being knocked down, and I'd spare you that.  But the truth is life will not always spare us the hard knocks.  And I guess, getting up again is a good thing.  But being knocked on your butt is not.

Twenty years ago I wrote this prayer.  It continues to speak to me.

Hold me tight, most precious Lord,

That I might follow you.

Grant me grace to live each day,

May I be born anew.

Lift me up whenever I fall,

And never let me fade

From the grace filled light

Of your own sight

That turns the night to day.

Part of this resilience thing goes hand in hand with being bipolar.  That cycle of mania and depression, over and over again, has the look and feel of resilience.  C'est la vie.

Been a little depressed lately.  Nothing overwhelming.  Just down.  

I've found myself looking forward to retirement.  One of the things I look forward to is being on a 'fixed income'.  For many people, 'fixed income' is viewed as a negative.  I  look forward to the day that I can count on that income, month after month.  It will ease a lot of pressure.

I realize now that there are two things I really don't like about ministry.  First, I don't like the feeling that there can be a direct link between the nuances of my preaching and the level of the offerings.  People vote with their checkbooks too much, I think.  I'm not sure if this is fact.  But at times it feels like it.  Offerings are down and I wonder 'what did I say?'  

The second thing I don't like is having to censor myself regarding issues that are extremely important to me.  I'm tired of it.  "Your not in favor of homosexuality, are you?"  OK, so I didn't anticipate how significant this would be throughout the thirty years of my ministry.  But these are the times we are living in.  OK, so take a deep breath, Dave, and let it out slowly.  LGBTQ does not refer to an issue that we are in favor of or opposed to, but rather to people that we are called to love unconditionally, as Jesus first loved us.  We all stand before God utterly dependent on grace, so just get over it already.  Just get over it.

I'll say it again.  This is not an issue we're fighting about, but people we are to love and care for.  

Enough, already.  I'll get ready for church now.  I'm preaching on "Simon, do you love me?"  

The one thing I do not look forward to in retirement, whenever that comes, is not preaching.  I love to preach.