Preparing to #Leap (kid part 1)

When I prepared to #leap, I was very aware that it wasn't just me who was moving and transitioning, it was also my husband and my daughter.  When I started at my first two churches, I was single. Starting at a new place with a spouse and a child promised to be a very different thing.  

This is part 1 in a 3 part series:

When I met with the outgoing pastor, we talked about a lot of things.  We had an initial phone conversation that lasted about an hour and a half.  Then a face to face that was nearly 5 hours.  Multiple email exchanges and then about another hour to hour and a half at annual conference.  We did a good bit of talking before the transition. At some points it felt like way too much information and at others it felt like we had only scratched the surface.  We covered church history, leadership, vision, staffing, and finances.  We also covered a multitude of questions I had both as I thought my new place and things I wanted the incoming pastor to know for the place I was leaving.  Some of my questions were related to theory and some were more pragmatic.  

I remember one in particular because I was taken aback by the answer.  I asked, “So, on a Sunday morning, if you need help with your kids, who do you turn to?”  He asked, “What do you mean?”  It seemed like a straightforward and simple question to me, but I did my best to clarify, “I mean, say your wife is sick and you have the girls before worship and you need to do something, who helps with the kids?”  His response, “That’s never happened.”  Now, that may be the luxury of having a stay at home wife, or of being a man, or of some other weird quirk in the universe, whatever the case, I don’t really know how to explain it, or even understand it.  

I am the mother of a three year old, a well-behaved, intelligent, articulate, church-accustomed 3 year old and I can’t even imagine a world where needing help with her on a Sunday morning “has never happened.” From sick days, to tantrums, to unexpected counseling, to regular post-worship conversations, to diaper blow outs, to extended naps, I have had many occasions to need reinforcements.  And, at my last church, the one where I announced my pregnancy and shared my first months with my first born, I had a whole village of support and care.  No matter what the event, there always would have been someone to help with her.  Someone would have taken her at her best and in a screaming fit to help me do my job.  They were our church, but more importantly, they were her village.  They helped us raise our daughter, from time in the office, to time in the nursery, to babysitting at our house when I had Bible study or we had an emergency, they were there and I had a list of folks I could call on.

So, when I was anticipating a transition, I thought a lot about who I might turn to. Who would be there to help? Who would not mind taking a screaming child out of worship? Who could stay late to keep her entertained while I did this that or the other?  This was a big deal for me.  I felt pretty sure I could take whatever the church could dish out, but I wasn’t sure how my young child who only knew one home and one church would fare without “her people.” 

Who's place is it?

Lately, I've been discontent with my body. I've lost all the baby weight, but the extra weight I had on prior is still hanging around (though I lost it last year, it graciously came back).  Before vacation I had a new resolve to start working out, not mega work outs that would never happen, but just 10 minutes a day of decent cardio or weights.  I started to talk myself out of it thinking, "a ten minute workout isn't really ten minutes because I have to change clothes, work out, stretch, and get cleaned up, so it's really 30 minutes and I don't know where in the day I can put those 30 minutes." But I figure, I can do 10 minutes of simple cardio on the treadmill or on the nordic track without all that, just throw on some tennis shoes and be done with it.  Then came vacation, who works out on vacation?!!?  Some crazy fools, I saw them, but not this girl.  =) It's vacation.  Then I came back sick with a cough and unable to breathe, so more waiting.  

Under normal circumstances I would have lost my resolve by now, but since I wasn't aiming for the hour long boot camp, this still seems do-able.

Then yesterday I had one church member bring me an article dealing with temptation and food issues. She confessed that food issues are her issue, and then added that she thinks they might be mine too.  Not below the belt, but definitely implied a greater level of intimacy and connection that I see.  THEN, blow #2.  A different woman said she had been gaining and needed an accountability partner and wanted to know if I could do that. I said sure and asked what that looks like to her. She said a weigh in and some goals for losing weight.  She claimed her dissatisfaction with her own body and then said, "And I've been noticing you've been gaining too."  Gee thanks.  

Neither woman was off base in her assessment. But both irked me.  Maybe that's not the right word.  I'm not sure what is. But assessing my weight is a job for a personal trainer, not a church member.  I don't even like my doctor's commentary on my extra pounds. I figure he/she (whichever it may be at the time) is an idiot to think I need any extra weight to be pointed out to me. As if I don't see it myself?!  

Kaiser has a not so subtle way of reminding you to take care of yourself. At every appointment, no matter which department...general, derm, allergy, they all ask "how many times a week do you work out?" The guilt that comes after that question is all mine (unless I've been doing well). But I know I need to work out regularly and I appreciate making my own reprimand rather than having it handed to me by a doctor.

All of that is to say, I super dislike when church folk assume a level of intimacy/vulnerability that isn't there.  I get how it happens: they share so much and so often with me that they feel super connected.  The difference being I don't get to do that sharing (or choose not to, depending on which school of thought you belong to), but I don't share the details of my personal life or struggles with my church folks.  Not unless it's to help them through an issue, but not to help me through an issue.  And so I feel burned when they take it upon themselves to address my "stuff".  It's there. It's mine. I can't deny that.  But in that, it's also mine to decide who I want to help me through it, and who exactly has the right to navigate such tender places.  

All right. Enough fussing. Time to do my 10 minutes.