There is an article being posted and shared on Facebook right now. It is from the Momastery blog. Her entry titled, Don't Carpe diem struck a cord with many a parent. A seminary classmate of mine re-posted in her wall, stating that even though she didn't have kids the thoughts were appreciated for many areas of life.
I started thinking how true this was. The author's description of parenting as a comparison to climbing a mountain is so spot on, I want to cry at its clarity and insight. The main event in the blog entry is an older woman's insistence to seize and appreciate each day with your kids--that she loved every minute of her time with her kids.
Such euphoric thoughts are simply not possible. And if that is too strong of a sentence, maybe it is only because the feeling of warm baby spit up running down the inside of your shirt, while the other children fight over who gets to stand in front of the mirror to brush their teeth (One naked. One wearing only a shirt and shoes.), is too distant of a memory for you.
Then I started working again. I went to work and ran across someone at a different stage in life. Younger. Learning. Just figuring out the answers to questions I have long forgotten. I should note that pastors are odd people. We just are. We dedicate our lives to a ministry and way of life that is increasingly out of step with the rest of the world. Or the world is out of touch with us. Anyway, many pastors have difficultly not getting bogged down in esoteric goobling gush. And he's fresh out of seminary--the hive and very definition of esoteric.
Every time he and I talk, I catch myself wanting to tell him the answers to his questions. To share the lessons my first parishioners taught me, the ways in which supply preaching changed me, the way it actually feels to sit in a pew and how messy congregational life is as a leader and as an adult participant. I stop myself from letting him in on the secret that seminary is vitally important, but most of what he learned--all the fun new words and ways to critique churches--won't matter as much as his tone when talking to the secretary on any given Tuesday.
But I feel this way only because I lived through seminary and internship and am ten years past this stage. I've asked alot of questions and made peace with the fact some answers never come. Similarly, I listen to his 20 something commentary--the bravado and defensiveness of an adult who, while doing the adult stuff, still feels like they are playing dress up in their parent's clothes--through ears that have been there. And, thankfully made it safely to my (late) 30's.
He needs my empathy. What he's doing is important to him. His questions and commentary comes out of genuine interest and active pursuit. One day he'll forgot why the questions were so important. Until then he doesn't need me to define how he is doing or to tell him what will really matter in his ministry.
He needs me ask him what he's studying. To inquire about his classes. Then he needs me--and my ego--to shrug off the fact I rarely even know what he's talking about and be glad he's caring enough to ask the question.
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