It was good to have one of my many roles acknowledged. Pastors often are wearing many hats. When I am doing work outside of the church that multiplicity only increases. I feel like my closet is overflowing with hats. Importantly, I like having a lot of hats!

The post-apocalypse was teaching me what my mom has taught me all along: not everyone is going to like you.

When you’re in the midst of a busy season of work, it’s normal to daydream about a day off. I certainly do this.

So why does it feel so bad when I get to that day off?

I can feel the unease in myself when I finally wake up on that much awaited time for rest and I immediately see something that needs tending to. I should probably touch up the paint in the bathroom, and catch up on my lesson invoices, and go for a run, and take care of the hedge that needs trimming.

Just this week I looked at my husband and asked, “What if I just didn’t show up?”

Yes, this was a Sunday morning. Sunday mornings are my Monday mornings.

Fortunately, this feeling passed. I made it to church. I even enjoyed my time at church. But it was a feeling.

I’ve never been much of an athletic person. I enjoyed playing sports in high school well enough, but my true love was always in the band and choir room. I spent years halfheartedly utilizing free gyms or doing yoga for a few weeks before fizzling out. Without a doubt, my most successful period of movement was in 2020 when I ambitiously began training for a 10k.

In an attempt to keep track of ourselves and all that we’ve committed to, my husband and I have been doing a calendar check in on Sunday nights. I love this; he tolerates it. But thank goodness we do this, because without it I’d completely lose track of holiday time off. Josh works an administrative job that includes federal holiday time off as well as good vacation and sick time off. Almost always, one of these holidays come around and I say, “Oh right! You’re not working on Monday!”

I’m in a community Facebook group for the city where I live. It’s fairly well moderated and honestly better than I expected it to be, as these sorts of online spaces frequently devolve into vitriol. One of the most common topics of conversation? Trash pickup.

In short, full-time pastor jobs are holding steadier than we might think, but only for select demographics.

Writing in my journal, taking quiet time, listening to beautiful music, and generally just learning to live with my interior self as it turns out is pretty close to brushing my teeth. It’s endless work that when it goes well is just unseen, routine, but makes the experience of inhabiting one’s body that much better.

I’ve been following a meditation course recently and it’s super annoying. “Notice how you feel,” the instructor says.

No thank you.

I don’t work 4+ jobs so I have time to pay attention to how I feel. I work so much so I can completely ignore how I feel.

I recently spent eight days on vacation out on the west coast. Since I was traveling from the Cleveland area, returning home was a full day trip. My brother-in-law picked us up from the airport and we were going to treat him and ourselves to some Chinese food upon returning home. Imagine my relief to be home, to see my cats, to eat a non-airport meal, and to sleep in my own bed. I practically sank into our couch to never emerge again.

There was one glitch. When my spouse, Josh, tried to get drinks out of the fridge he quickly realized something was wrong.

“Rachel,” he said, “does this drink seem warm to you?”

While I’m on my mini-sabbatical I have my work account toggled off on the app. I’ve got a nice vacation responder up and truly don’t have anything I need to worry about in that inbox. Any real emergency would be able to reach me via phone call or text.

Tell me why then a few nights ago at 10:30 at night I was looking at my work email while lying in bed.

To lose this would not be part of some kind of institutional decluttering. We are not holding onto this out of some kind of uppity desire to have a church sanctuary with the stained glass we love the most. I am part of a small community that is tenaciously holding onto what we have because our institutional, committee-driven, bureaucratical structures matter greatly not just to us, but our whole community.

I wonder if a low bar all churches should strive to clear is to still adhere to the FLSA even if it doesn’t officially apply to us. We should respect overtime rules. We should keep good employment records. We should pay fairly and transparently.

For me, the warning sign is deep cynicism. I don’t often have trouble showing up to do my job. I’ll be there on Sunday mornings to preach and I’ll clock my hours. But I won’t feel good about it.