A Life Worth Living

At the cabinet shop where I work, the boss frequents the shop and is often engaged in what some of the senior cabinet makers are doing, sometimes being quite harsh in his criticism and concerns.  I largely fly under the radar screen.

I mused the other day that either I'm that good, that he rarely has anything to say about my work, or that irrelevant.  Its that latter possibility that is unsettling.

One of my favorite contemporary songs, is a song that Pat used to sing at my first parish by Steve Green, the chorus of which is:

Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful
May the fires of our devotion light their way
May the footprints that we leave
Lead them to believe
And the lives we live inspire them to obey
Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful

For me, one of the driving forces in my life has been simply "to have made a difference".  Sometimes I need a reminder of the difference that I have made in the lives of the people I have served.  The actual impact of our ministry is often intangible.  In the cabinet shop I can step back and look at what I've accomplished that day.  Even take a picture of it.  Not so in ministry.

One of the things I have done is kept a file that contains the cards I've received from parishioners over the years.  These words of appreciation that they have shared with me can sustain me during tough times.  In each of their lives, in a least some small way, I've made a difference, at least significant enough that they took the time to write a note and say so.  I also drive by Luther Park, the senior housing ministry I helped build, and have a very visible reminder of the difference that I made.

Is it ego?  Well, of course, to some extent it is.  But to another extent it is simply a  matter of desiring meaning and purpose in one's life.

Since Dad died, death seems much closer than it did before.  All four of Karla and my parents have now died, and we are officially the 'older generation'.  On a more immediate level, retirement is now within sight, though it may be another ten years or so away.  I keep getting notices from AARP wondering why I haven't signed up yet.  I'm reviewing our potential Social Security benefits, and our pensions, and all that good stuff that goes with preparation.

And I wonder what's left to do?

I waiver back and forth.

My manic side wants more than anything else to have yet another crusade, another major agenda, something more.  I look at the  time I have left prior to retirement and hope for the opportunity to surpass that which I've previously done.  Perhaps it is ego that drives this part of me.  Measuring one's life by the legacy one leaves.  And perhaps it is a more humble aspiration, to simply be a contributing part of the team.

The depressed side of my brain resonates with Jesus' words from the cross, "It is finished".  For the most part my life's work is nearing completion.  It is was it has been, for better or worse.

In between those poles, lies a contentment that simply is at peace with the transition that is taking place.  I may have the opportunity in ministry to contribute more toward the greater good.  And, it may also be a time to look forward to retirement and a different way of living life and achieving meaning and purpose.

I wonder about retirement.  One of the casualties of the last ten years or so of my life has been a loss of a rewarding and engaging 'private life'.  The last five years at First Lutheran were so dominated by the development of the senior housing that hobbies and leisure time activities were lost.  And then came disability and the inability to engage in anything, followed by my current load that leaves little time or energy for anything.

What will make life enjoyable and engaging in the  years ahead?

Grandchildren.  We have one.  We look forward to more.  Is there any higher calling than that?  To make a difference in the life of a child?

Earlier in my life, hunting, fishing, golf, and woodworking as an avocation, not a vocation, filled my off time.  Right now, there is little time for any of that.  But maybe in the future. . .

I also realize that my current call to serve at Otis Orchards maybe a very significant part of my ministry when all is said and done.  I began ministry with the hopes of becoming a  mission developer.  If I could finish my career redeveloping Peace Lutheran it would be a fulfillment of that first desire.  And the part time nature of that call means that it could continue into retirement.

Friendships.  One of the more difficult things about our current circumstances is that we continue to live in Sandpoint, and have developed relationships with many people here over the years. but, because I'm now the 'former pastor' there is an expectation that I limit my interactions with my former parish.  Some of our closest friends are leaving for the coast and so we are left wondering about interpersonal relationships here.  There is another aspect to this, a steep learning curve for pastors in retirement.  Throughout our careers ministry has formed the basis for the majority of our personal relationships.  Take the ministry away and you must now find different avenues for interpersonal engagement.

I'm also reminded of my psychologist's concerns as he retires.  There is an intimacy that comes with the vocation that is hard to replace.  Though our vocation focused on the other, the truth is that this intimacy fed our souls as well.

I must add, that above all else, I am blessed to have a wife whose stood by me through thick and thin, and whose companionship is itself a major part of what gives life meaning and purpose.

I remember a hymn, that perhaps is a good prayer to conclude with:

Jesus still lead on
Till our rest be won;
And although the way be cheerless,
We will follow calm and fearless;
Guide us by your hand
To our fatherland.

If the way be drear,
If the foe be near,
Let no faithless fears overtake us,
Let not faith and hope forsake us;
Safely past the foe
To our home we go.