A New Perspective

       "There is wisdom in reducing your schedule to make it easier on yourself."
       "Well," I explained, "the funny thing is that the past two years I could barely handle fourteen [college] credit hours per semester. Everything scheduled was a dread. It was really difficult for me to do anything. It's because of what I went through before. My life revolved around the schedule, so after that I couldn't even think about plans. I mean, you probably saw some of my frustration when I talked to you last year. Every prospect was just misery..." He laughed at my dramatic words, "But now, after having been in Israel, it's different. I feel like I can handle more this year, and I'm excited even. And there's no dread or stress at all. It's strange."
       He shook his head and gave me a knowing glance, chuckling to himself as he responded, "You know, someone should do a study on the psychological effects that ministry can have on a person. That would be interesting."
      "Yeah."
      "I think it's something about feeling like all your time is owned by someone else. I've definitely been there. Even the small things feel like huge burdens. When I was going through it, my wife would say something like, 'oh there's this wedding we've been invited to...' and even just that would make me think to myself, 'oh no'."
      "I know! And then you feel selfish for not giving your time for small things, but you just can't function any other way."
       "Exactly... You just can't."

       This was a conversation between my adviser and me earlier today. It felt good to talk to someone who really understands what I went through. It was validating. We helped each other put into words things not often articulated. The sad thing is that your typical twenty-seven-year-old hasn't felt the pain of ministry burn-out yet. But I have. And my adviser is probably in his early fifties. I honestly relate better to my teachers than I do to my fellow students. Most of the students here are all fresh out of high school ministries, ready to take on the world, willing to do whatever it takes... when I left his office and went to practice piano, I couldn't focus. I only thought about our conversation and how well he related to me. I think he was even shocked at how similarly we had both felt from our experiences.
       My vocal teacher was hurt by a church as well. She wasn't overworked, but she was wounded in a way that took years to recover. Her and her husband ran a very successful passion play for many years until one day she saw people moving all the props out of the prop house. The pastor had shut down the drama department without even telling her. We bonded over our stories of pain. I spent many times in her office crying because I was such an emotional mess. It was singing. That was one of the main ways I served my church. Music is the language of my heart. So when she would try to get me to actually connect emotionally with the music, I would feel this swell of hurt rising up. Most of the time I could fight it, but on occasion I just couldn't and I would burst into tears. She was just the perfect person to help me through it.

       I often feel like I'm an outsider; like because of what I went through, I see things others just don't see. It has been frustrating. I feel old inside, already tired of life. But then I come here to a place where many of my teachers are former pastors and ministers who have been through it all. They see things the way I do. It helps.

       I'm just glad that I have a deep well to draw from, and glad that I have a new perspective from having been away. It was exactly what I needed.