Bird at hand

I had a weepy day at work on Tuesday. My boss and I sat and discussed real life (she is my boss/friend) and real life can be hard, you know?

One of the topics we discussed is my future. I am making some pretty tough decisions right now about returning to ministry and my thoughts and emotions are swirling about. Being a receptionist at a concrete shop has been good to me in many, many ways and I have learned some valuable things – things I will never forget.

I had a conversation recently with an old colleague, one that I served as a pastor with. He questioned my concrete status saying, “It’s such a waste of your talent. God wants you to be so much more.”

Hmmmm.

One of the biggest issues I struggled with when I served the church full time was work/life balance. I made huge strides my last two years in ministry toward a healthy approach because I was blessed enough to have another friend/boss that insisted on me being a whole person. He would actually walk into my office when he knew I should be leaving to catch my kids off the school bus and say, “Why are you still here?” with a loving smile. A great work ethic has never been my problem, until it became a source of pride and identity.

I guess the real answer to my old colleague is, “I am already being it.” Yes, my book is still in the works and I may (or may not) return to ministry and I answer the phone at a concrete shop, but those things do not define me. I have finally let God have so much of me that I long to BE a servant – regardless of where or how or who or if anybody even notices.

The picture below was one I took yesterday out of my kitchen window. If you look closely you will see that I have a robin who built her nest right in my holly bush. I stand at my kitchen sink, making dinner or doing dishes, and we stare at each other. Both of us are serving our children and I’m the only one who sees her and she is the only one who notices me. She is one of thousands of robins in the area doing the same old thing, and I am one of thousands of mothers doing the same old thing. I whisper to her, “You are great,” when I am finished. She doesn’t smile or say anything back, she just keeps sitting on her eggs – being exactly what she was made to be.