I have previously written about how much Tricia Hersey’s book Rest Is Resistance: A Manifesto has spoken to me. (Here is the list of simple rest practices I developed for Lent after I read it.) This rest is faithful. It is what we need for our own wellbeing. And it is a tool for liberation. Last week I expanded on these thoughts with a piece at Baptist News Global. Click here to read “The rest we must have.”

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash.

With the start of Lent, many pastors are looking ahead to some hard-earned rest after Easter. Here’s a resource I created last year that can help you plan ahead to get the most out of your time away.

If I had to bet, the week after Easter Sunday (followed closely by the week after Christmas) is the most common period for pastors to take vacation. You will have accompanied your congregation from the wilderness to the foot of the cross to the empty tomb. That is quite a journey. You’ll be ready to rest.

Having a vacation to look forward to is a great start. But have you ever felt like it’s just as much work to get ready to be away as it is just to keep on plowing ahead? Have those extra tasks worn you out so much that you’re just returning to baseline, not even close to refreshment, when vacation is over? You’re not alone.

That’s why I have created a vacation prep sheet. It prompts you to record your hopes and intentions for your time away, then to sift and break down what you need to do beforehand in order to live into them. This sheet can be helpful to you the week before vacation, but it will be even more useful if you start using it further out. Feel free to download the sheet for your own use or to share it with others. Happy rejuvenating!

Recently I read Rest Is Resistance: A Manifesto by Tricia Hersey, who is popularly known as the Nap Bishop. Hersey makes the case that all of us are caught up in grind culture, which is a hyperfocus on productivity around which our entire lives are oriented. Grind culture feeds and feeds on many modes of dehumanization: white supremacy, patriarchy, ableism, individualism, and more. It makes us think that we are what we produce. It causes us to see rest as a reward that we can only claim when we have worn ourselves down to a nub. It keeps us stepping on one another to get ahead. And it is killing us physically (as seen by our collective sleep deficit) as well as mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and relationally.

Hersey says that our response to grind culture’s demands that we do more must be to rest. Rest includes but is not limited to sleep. It can be anything that helps us slow down, replenish, and reconnect with ourselves, one another, and God. It can be lengthy, but it can also be a series of shorter breaks. I often hear from coachees that they struggle to find time for rest. That is largely because of the overlapping issues named above, and it is partly the result of grind culture’s drain on our creativity. It’s hard to come up with ways to rest that fit the moment when we are already so very tired.

With that in mind, I have developed a list of practices that offer rest. I stopped at 40 because that is the number of days in Lent, not counting Sundays. If you choose, you can take on a rest practice each day as a Lenten observance. Let me be clear, though, that I don’t intend these practices as 40 more to-dos to pile on your already-full plate. (That would defeat the purpose!) They are intended simply to give you ideas for some easily accessible breaks if you don’t have the mental space to come up with a means to get some much-needed rest. Click here to download the list. Feel free to print and/or share it.

Stay tuned for an article that elaborates on how rest doesn’t just cause us to feel better and more present but also equips us to push back on dehumanizing forces.

Even before the pandemic, I, like many of you, had begun thinking about how the Church needs to shift in order to be Christ’s body in the world. The twenty-first century has offered Jesus followers new awareness around individual and collective power (both having and lacking it), big questions to ask and challenges to overcome, and an increased number of tools for connecting with and on behalf of others. Covid-19 stripped us down to the studs, allowing us to see what is essential in a faith community. And now we as the body of Christ are moving through lingering exhaustion, fighting an illness that keeps popping back up (though thankfully with more ways to mitigate it now), and wondering which way to go next.

I don’t think any of us has answers about specific models of church. I know I don’t. But I think the characteristics of a flourishing church in 2023 are coming into focus. This month I will be sharing my thoughts on them via an alphabet of the evolving Church.

This week: letters A-E.

Accessibility. This is about equity, which involves providing well thought-through accommodations to those with various needs (e.g., mobility, sensory) so that they can participate fully in congregational life. It is also about being very intentional in the welcome of newcomers, who might be joining onsite or online, who might not know a soul in your community, who might have not been in a church since the day they were deeply wounded by it, or who might not have any vocabulary or framework for what worship, formation, or congregational life look like.

Breath. In the attractional model of church that many of us still cling to (whether we admit it or not!), the emphasis is always on doing more. Offering more programs so that more people will come. Plugging newcomers into more activities so that they will feel more integrated. Not only has the attractional model proven itself not very helpful, especially for smaller churches, it also leaves a lot of people feeling run ragged. I think one of the pandemic’s big shocks to our systems was that most things stopped. We realized we had either forgotten how to breathe or realized we had even less time for it when work and caring responsibilities collapsed in on each other. We’re still recovering. One of the best things Church can do now is to resist the pull back to lots of programs and instead create space for thought, prayer, and rest - not just for now, but permanently.

Care. This is about checking in on the people in our faith communities, particularly those who are hurting or vulnerable or homebound. It is also about caring for the world beyond our church property. All around us there is great need. The Church is not meant to be set apart, tending only to its own. Being Christ’s body involves going where that need is and listening, giving tangible help, and working against the systems that put people at a disadvantage - through no fault of their own - to begin with.

Development. Learning and growing aren’t just for kids. So what are we doing in our congregations to form faithful followers of Jesus across every age cohort? This is not about implementing more programs. (See “breath” above.) It is about a way of being. What do our rituals say about what we believe about God? How do we discern when a big decision looms? How do we approach our work in committees and teams as worship? How do we encourage people to explore and tell their faith stories, looking for where God has been at work in the process?

Embodiment. We are people that worship a God who breathed life into our nostrils and called us good, and who came to us in human form when we needed more information and interaction than God could give us from on high. When Jesus headed back upstairs, entrusting us to his ongoing work, we became his hands and feet here on Earth. All of this is to say that God loves bodies, and so should we! We should honor our bodies’ - and others’ - requirements of rest, food, movement, and medical care. We should respect what our bodies - and others’ bodies - are telling us about who their inhabitants are on the inside. We should give thanks for the variety of bodies. We don’t have treat our bodies as regrettable meat sacks that temporarily store our brains and hearts. They are beautiful vehicles for getting out into God’s good world and sharing the love of Christ.

Next week: letters F-J.

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash.

A couple of years ago, one of my coachees introduced me to the work of culture writer Anne Helen Petersen. Petersen helps her readers think about the systems that are often invisible to us but that we all swim in every day. She also shares thoughts about how to live day-to-day in the midst of those (often harmful) systems even as we advocate for their overhaul. (I recommend her Substack here as well as her books on reconfiguring work and on Millennials and burnout.)

One of Petersen’s interests is creating sustainable communities of care. In the United States care infrastructure is piecemeal at best, and caregiving for children and older adults is undervalued and either underpaid or unpaid. That leaves many people - especially those of us in the sandwich generation - scrambling and harried much of the time, with little space to tend to our own needs for rest and relationships beyond work and caregiving, much less room in our schedules for errands or (dare to dream!) play. We need people we can count on for help, but reaching out is so hard. Petersen names some of the barriers as our identities as helpers, our pride in being self-sufficient, our feelings of overwhelm (which of the many pressing to-dos do we ask for assistance with?), and not having a solid friend network or family nearby because of the multiple moves we’ve made for work.

In a recent post Petersen proposes an “emergency/tough times guide” (here’s her template) in which we name the things that would be most helpful to us when we’re feeling stretched too thin. In her piece she also names ways to use the guide. In addition to the options she presents, I want to offer some thoughts on how you could tailor a communal care guide for you or for your church:

• Craft the prompts for church staff and possibly even key lay leaders and ask them to fill out the form along with you. What personal or ministry support does each person need? What helps individuals feel seen and appreciated? Decide and communicate before distributing the form who will have access to the repository of responses. Access might be based on how vulnerable the questions ask respondents to be, how much trust there is in the system, what roles those with access play in the church, and how willing those people are to provide the requested assistance.

• Develop a form that everyone in your church can fill out on a rolling basis. This equalizes all the participants, makes it ok to ask for help, and reveals the care that would really benefit individuals or family unit so that the church can, well, be the church to each other. You can decide whether the responses will be available to anyone who fills out the form or to a specific team of caregivers committed to meeting needs as they are able.

• Develop a form in two parts for everyone in your church. In the first part takers name needs, and in the second part they share ways they could help others (e.g., taking people to appointments, making phone calls to people who are homebound, providing after school care for children of working parents). Everyone can see responses to both parts of the form, so they know whom to contact to give or receive care.

• Create a clergyperson-specific form, distribute it among your pastor peers, and give all the takers access to the responses. There are certain personal and professional needs that only another minister can understand and fulfill, and the guide could open up conversation about what mutual support could tangibly look like.

None of the options above is perfect. The forms would have to be designed thoughtfully in order to meet the intended aim of building an organic, sustainable care structure. But I think there’s something in here worth considering, a means of acknowledging our needs and others’ and working toward helping one another in ways that make a real difference.

Pastors are humans, and we minister alongside humans. We talk about our dependence on God and our interdependence with one another. Yet we can be so hesitant to acknowledge what is hard in our lives and request help accordingly. Perhaps this communal care guide can lower our resistance to know and be known by each other more deeply and share our burdens in appropriate and relationship-building ways.

Photo by Clint Adair on Unsplash.

Many of you have so many demands on your time that it is hard to know where to put your focus and energy. Often you are choosing between opportunities that are in themselves good or that bring about good, which makes the decision so much harder. That is the case for Rev. Suzanne Miller, Executive Director of Pastors for North Carolina Children (check out her organization and her good work!), who is constantly presented with invitations to work with individuals, churches, judicatories, organizations, and legislators on issues that make a difference to children and families. In a recent coaching call we worked on a flow to help her decide when to say yes and when to say no. She generously offered to share here the template she designed as a result of our session. Click here to download it.

When I was in college, my dad would mail me motivational photos cut out of business publications. You know the kind - a person standing on a mountain peak, with a quote underneath about giving it your all. The encouragement, the time spent finding and mailing the pictures, and the willingness to dissect his magazines were all expressions of my dad’s love. Hopefully we’ve all had someone in our lives who has pushed us to dream big, to work hard. There are times when we really need that kind of support.

This is not that time.

The more I talk with pastors and lay leaders, the more I think that this is a season to go small, to ease off the gas. Clergy are crispy-fried, even the ones who are not in the midst of vocational crisis. Laypeople are exhausted too, whether it is from stepping up even more at church during the pandemic, worrying about and caring for their kids or parents, or wondering what the future holds for their work lives or their retirement account balances. Even so, the capitalistic heartbeat that powers our culture intones, “Do more.” Thump thump. “Be more.” Thump thump. “Count numbers.” Thump thump. “Go back (to the way things were pre-Covid.)” Thump thump. This is an anxious response and an unrealistic approach to the profound ways in which our world and the Church are changing.

I want to suggest an opposite approach: going small. Yes, we need to do some things differently, because our burnout and our scarcity tunnel vision won’t magically resolve themselves. So look for a small tweak that might make a large impact. Spend one minute outside after you’ve finished your lunch, soaking in Vitamin D and deepening your breaths. Or end each day with a single reflection question, such as, “When did I experience joy today?” Or read one page of a book (for fun) that has been gathering dust on your nightstand.

Thinking small goes for congregations too. This is likely not the time for long-range planning. With energy so low, it might not even be the season for discerning or re-examining shared values. So name a hymn or a long-practiced ritual that says something about your congregation’s identity and use it as a touchstone for considering unexpected invitations from God. When starting new things (or even re-starting former initiatives), be clear about what the “yes” involves and what “no” is needed to counterbalance.

We all want to be faithful. We strive to minister to those in need. To do both for the long haul, we need to recalibrate for sustainability. Going small offers us a way to build momentum and muscle, growing our capacity and impact in the process.

In the meantime, instead of a motivational poster of someone reaching a mountain peak, imagine a kitty poster that encourages you to “hang in there.”

Photo by Igor Kyryliuk on Unsplash.

Here is the second installment in a new blog series that features clergywomen who are putting fresh expressions of ministry out into the world. My hopes are to amplify their great work, to spark readers’ imaginations, and to encourage pastors who are thinking about new ways of living into their call.

I am excited today for you to learn about Mary Apicella and her fitness business. Mary has served as a pastor and now ministers to bodies and spirits by integrating personal training with the movements of the liturgical calendar. I particularly celebrate her work with pre- and post-natal women and wish I had had someone like Mary to help me tend to my physical recovery from a C-section after my child was born. Mary works with all kinds of clients, and she has a heart for clergy moms, knowing well the stresses and joys of the pastoral life and of parenting. She is credentialed as a personal trainer through the National Academy of Sports Medicine (NASM) and as a Pre/Postnatal Fitness Specialist through PRONatal Fitness. I asked Mary to share about her ministry and the hurdles and helps to it. Check out her responses below.

What is your ministry all about?

Sacred Salt is my integration of faith and fitness. I create workouts and exercise programs that follow the liturgical church calendar, as opposed to the typical January to December calendar year. While I created these workouts with clergy, specifically congregational pastors, in mind, these workouts fit any lay leader or congregational volunteer who also finds themselves busier, even overwhelmed, during certain moments in the church year as they participate in the life and story of the church.

You've created a brand-new ministry, unlike anything else out there. What are the sources of your inspiration, courage, and support?

I initially created this practice just for myself when I was a solo pastor straight out of seminary as a way to maintain the exercise routine I enjoyed as a grad student with constant access to a campus fitness center. I knew spring and late fall/early winter would be busier times because of the extra services and time commitments of Lent and Advent, so I tried to schedule my workouts in a way that would complement, not compete with, the energy and focus I needed to pastor my congregation and do the work of ministry.

The name “Sacred Salt” came out of a sermon I preached on Matthew 5, specifically the 13th verse, where Jesus reminds his hearers that we “are the salt of the earth.” Jesus wasn’t telling the people to go off and figure out how to be salt. Rather, he was reminding them of what they already were: human beings created with two ways of producing salt – sweat and tears.

When Jesus said to be salt for the earth, I believe he meant to be so completely in relationship and community with others that you break a sweat and break into tears – whether they be joy, grief, rage, or laughter. In that way, the salt we’re made with becomes sacred when we share it with others, preserving the earth and the world around us.

In the fall of 2020, I was in the midst of two huge identity shifts: I’d resigned as a congregational pastor in mid-June of that year, and 8 weeks later gave birth via emergency c-section to my daughter. I felt unmoored, and the COVID-19 pandemic was just an added layer of ongoing bewilderment to the chaos I’d been feeling. All those identity questions I thought I’d thoroughly answered reared their heads again: Who am I, now? What do I want to do? How do I want to get there?

In the middle of all this, I received a phone call from a friend who knew I’d been going through some transitions and perhaps suspected some of what I was feeling. She offered me an opportunity to be the physical health and wellness coach for a year-long “Thriving in Ministry” program funded by the Lilly Foundation. The program would be completely virtual, and I would meet with cohorts of pastors as well as offer 1-1 sessions with individuals to talk about health, wellness, and exercise throughout all of 2021. And everything would be funded by the grant for the whole year. I was overjoyed. What had felt like disoriented wandering around a fog-draped maze became a little less foggy as more of the path appeared.

I’m forever thankful for that conversation, the leaders of the Thriving in Ministry program, and the participants who helped me grow, regain my confidence and clarity as a leader, and who trusted me to come alongside them as they made changes to become healthier, stronger, and happier. I’m especially thankful to the 4 pastors who also welcomed me into their lives as a trainer for prenatal and postpartum work, and who have named what I do now, “ministry.”

What obstacles have you faced to launching your ministry, and how are you overcoming or managing them?

As convenient as virtual training is, it is also a challenge since I am not in the same physical space as the people I train. When doing virtual personal training, all of us become our own tech and set crews to adjust lighting, camera angles, and finding the right position to be in to observe form while moving. It’s a mindset shift to find some levity in doing all that work, and it has also made me a better communicator and trainer since I’m relying on verbal feedback from my clients to determine how each movement feels. This is a benefit to my clients as well, since they need to be more in tune with their bodies in order to let me know if something is or isn’t working. When I create the Sacred Salt workout videos, I don’t have any feedback in real time, since folks can do them according to their schedules. That can make it difficult to offer enough variations to make movements challenging but doable, but as I get to know the people receiving these workouts, I ask for requests and do my best to offer what they’d like and enjoy doing.

For whom is your ministry really good news? Why?

Sacred Salt is really good news for folks who do their best to love Jesus, love the church, love themselves, and struggle to do all of that consistently without neglecting the latter in service of the two formers. These workouts come from a lived experience of pastoring full-time and wanting to find ways to care for myself physically, which helped keep me healthy mentally, emotionally, and vocationally. Connecting exercise to the story of faith helps the story come to life for me in wonderful and surprising ways. It’s my joy to help others discover that as well.

What's the best way for people to get more information about your ministry? 

My site, www.maryapicellafitness.com, is set up as a pre/postnatal virtual personal training website, but in the Venn diagram of my two passions, pastors and pre/postnatal folks, I am trying my best to weave them together on one website. There is a “Sacred Salt” tab at the top of the menu bar for folks who’d like to learn more, explore the video library of full-length workouts and demonstrations, as well as the extra “workouts with the saints” for various feast days, and try them all for free for 7 days.

Thank you, Mary, for sharing about your ministry and inviting others into it!

We all need to take time to tend to ourselves. This is not being selfish. It is being practical (humans require regular down time and maintenance), and it is being faithful (God did not make us to go without stopping until we break).

The term self-care has become so all-encompassing as to become almost meaningless, however, without carving out some smaller categories under that rather large umbrella. Here are some kinds of self-care that I think we all need in varying amounts:

Escaping. Sometimes we simply cannot deal or are so tired that we need to withdraw until we recover, though I’d add we probably require less of this kind of self-care through passive consumption than we think. This is a good time to read a novel or binge tv shows on our favorite streaming service. (Note that I do not advocate numbing through substances.)

Tending to health. We are worth taking care of our bodies, minds, and souls. We deserve to be treated by professionals who see and value us and want to help us live well. Seeking out doctors and therapists and spiritual companions can be hard because we feel fear or shame, because good care options are hard to access or pay for, and because it can take big chunks of time, but it also feeds all other forms of self-care.

Completing the stress cycle. In their book Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle, Amelia Nagoski and Emily Nagoski talk about how stress lingers beyond the stressful situation if we do not go all the way through the feeling once we’re in a safe place. Often we need a physical action to help with this, like punching a pillow, yelling at the top of our lungs, or dancing it out.

Having fun. Screen/life balance expert Catherine Price encourages us to play more in her book The Power of Fun: How to Feel Alive Again. She identifies three characteristics of True Fun, which are playfulness (no judging self or others), connection (with God, people, or the environment), and flow (being fully present and engaged). I think we all need a lot more of this kind of self-care than we usually get.

Intentionally doing nothing. Brene Brown talks about no-agenda, non-doing time in which we simply allow ourselves to be. We’re not trying to produce. We are simply giving all aspects of our being a break so that we can return to ourselves, trusting the world to go on while we’re not doing something to fix it.

What other self-care categories would you add to these? Which kind of self-care do you need most right now? How might you get it?

Photo by Max van den Oetelaar on Unsplash.

Lately I have heard many variations of one question: what does sustainability in ministry - in anything - look like in this weird, hard time? It’s a great question. Thriving might feel out of reach right now for those who are really struggling. (By the way, it’s ok to struggle. We all do sometimes!) But maybe we can reasonably aspire to durability until the possibility of flourishing breaks the plain of our horizon.

Here are some thoughts about what we might be able to say if we are locked into sustainability:

I am not in this alone. I have people. People to minister alongside, peers in ministry I can be honest and strategize with, loved ones beyond my work context who welcome my entire self.

I/we have the means to figure this out. Our world is serving up a lot of sticky wickets. But neither is the challenge too high nor my/our talents too negligible to deal with what is before me/us, even if there’s a lot of trial and error involved.

I can take a break without the world crashing down around me. I know that everything is not riding on me - or that if it is, I and those around me could use a lived reminder that that’s not healthy.

I am good (and so are others). Not perfect, mind you, but fearfully and wonderfully made and deeply loved just as I am by God.

I see glimmers of where I/we are making an impact. I am not just shouting into the void - at least not all of the time. I am helping some people feel seen and be connected to God and one another, and I am planting other seeds that might bear fruit I never know of.

I can laugh - and laugh about more than just the absurdity of things. There is delight in my world through the things I take in via my senses and through the people I encounter.

I am using my gifts, even if it’s not in the ways I expected. Who knew that this talent could be put to that use? Well, now I do.

I have room to maneuver. I can’t control everything, as much as I’d like to be able to. But there are some areas where I can and do exercise some agency.

I might not be the biggest fan of this season of life/ministry, but it is only a season. I know things won’t be this hard forever.

I notice and respond kindly to what my body is telling me. I need sleep. I need food. I need a brain break. I need an appointment with my doctor or therapist. Our bodies are our wonderfully made to give us the information we require to take care of them - and they are so very worthy of that tending.

I am growing in my sense of who I am and what I can do. There is some sense of wonder: “could it be that I am here for such a time as this?” This time might not be my first choice, but it is the time I have.

Which of these statements apply to you? What are some tweaks you could make to grow into the ones that don’t? What statements would you add to or take away from this list?

Photo by Appolinary Kalashnikova on Unsplash.

On this day two years ago, I attended my last in-person Sunday morning worship service. It was a surreal event. Only a handful of people were there, and we acted like kids worried about catching cooties from one another. My spouse (the pastor) was trying to figure out how to angle his phone for Facebook Live, something he had never experimented with before. After worship our family of three hustled home and didn't re-emerge for weeks, only doing so once we realized that Covid was not a blip and we’d have to get groceries at some point.

In some ways the start of the pandemic feels like a decade ago. The degrees of isolation and the ebb and flow of the virus have stretched out the time, plus we have learned more about Covid and ways to neutralize it than seems possible in such a short span. In other respects, though, the beginning of lockdown feels very fresh. Anniversaries - I would like to find another word for a somber annual remembrance, by the way - can make objects in the rearview mirror appear closer than they are. The sense memories enfold us and transport us to the states of mind, body, and spirit prompted by the original experience. (“On this day” reminders on social media and in our photo apps only enhance this effect.) For me that means high anxiety born of uncertainty, which manifests as body tension and mental and physical fatigue. Your reactions might be similar or altogether different, but you aren’t alone if you notice something in your being at this two-year mark that isn’t quite explained by current circumstances.

We’re holding a mixed bag as we come to this past-present mingling. We are in Lent, one of those marathon stretches in the liturgical calendar for pastors. This season both gives us a helpful focus and lengthens our to-do lists. We seem to be in a new, more hopeful phase of the pandemic. This reality brings increased possibilities for gathering and can also prompt foreboding joy: When is the next variant coming? What does the decreased attention to virus precautions mean for the big questions we’ve not had space to reckon with but now need to address? And while there is no declared war on American soil, we worry for those facing aggression in other regions of the world, bound to them as we are by our common humanity.

I name all of this to encourage you to be gentle with yourself. Acknowledge your limits. Leave things undone when needed. Take naps. Eat good food, however you define it. Move your body. Spend time with people you love. Do “unproductive” things that delight you. Look for beauty. Along the way don’t forget to keep your eyes peeled for God working - or modeling rest! - in the margins, the crevices, the cracks of daylight offered by a slightly opened door.

Remember that while memories can crash the present and the future is always on our minds, life happens in real time. Be there for it all, the hard and the holy, knowing sometimes there is little distinction between the two.

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash.

Many of the pastors I talk with are operating within viewing distance of overwhelm, that fog of fatigue and disorientation that can’t be fixed by a good night’s sleep, a vacation, or maybe even a sabbatical. They want to remedy this situation, but all the demands on them are so tangled that it’s hard to know which one to pull on first.

In March I am offering a four-week cohort to help pastors think about where they might tug on a thread to begin not just to unravel their overwhelm but also to build toward ongoing wellbeing. The timing of this cohort is intentional. It’s designed to see you through the first half of Lent and give you tools as you approach Holy Week, often one of the busiest weeks of the year for clergy.

We will use these four weeks to consider the points along the Results Cycle, a model developed by Thomas Crane:

If the current result we’re getting is that sense of overwhelm, then we can intervene anywhere else in the cycle to get a different outcome. In week one, we’ll talk about what the result is that we do want - what is our understanding of, our purpose in, our ministry? In session two we’ll examine and replace the beliefs that keep us locked in overwhelm using Martin Seligman’s three Ps (personalization, pervasiveness, permanence) as a framework. For our third gathering we’ll consider our tolerations (in other words, what we’re putting up with) and take steps toward habits and systems to eliminate them. And in the final week we’ll think through strengthening relationships via setting and communicating boundaries and guardrails. The goal of each cohort meeting is to find one small tweak that can make a big difference in how we move about the world.

Of course, the real benefit of this cohort is the participants - the shared wisdom and companionship you will offer one another. I will provide tools and the space, but you will bring the oomph, the encouragement, the heart. Together we will find daylight through the soupy fog.

Find out more and register by March 1 here.

A couple of weeks ago I led a retreat session for clergywomen. My instruction from the retreat organizer was simply to facilitate a conversation among the participants: after twenty months of pandemic ministry (plus other stressors exacerbated by Covid), what is their state of being?

I knew that if these women were like me, it might be difficult for them to separate areas in which they are doing ok from those in which they’re not. After all, our lives have become a tangle of tugs on our energy, brain space, and time. So I put together a very non-scientific assessment based on the PERMA model developed by Martin Seligman. In Seligman’s field of positive psychology, the focus is on what supports flourishing, not what will relieve distress. The assessment, then, asks takers to evaluate the truth of statements on a scale of 1 to 5 in those areas most tied to thriving: positive emotions, sense of engagement in their lives and work, health of their relationships, overarching sense of meaning, and feeling of accomplishment. I tailored these statements to ministry and added in a few other statements about caring for physical health. The goal of this tool was to help my session participants celebrate what’s going well (4s and 5s) and become more aware of parts of their lives that might need further attention in order to increase overall wellbeing (1s and 2s).

If this tool could be helpful to you, I offer it for your use. Feel free to download and/or share it. And, if you identify a particular aspect in which you’d like to make strides, let’s talk about how coaching could help you with that.

Click on the image to download a PDF of the wellbeing assessment.

Pastor search teams are made up of capable people who know their church well and are invested in its future. That said, there is a steep learning curve for most search team members. They have never been involved in the search for a clergyperson. They might or might not have received training and guidance from their judicatory. They do not have the full picture of what a minister’s day-to-day schedule looks like. They have little to no human resources experience, and the experience they have may not serve a calling (vs. a hiring) culture well.

Pastoral candidates, then, have the opportunity and responsibility to provide guidance to search teams in the ways that they show up in interactions. This teaching falls into two buckets.

Assisting with process

• Search teams might not always know the order or range of tasks or the people that should or should not be involved in aspects of the search process. They might want to rush ahead before it’s advisable, be quick to express their desire for you to be the new pastor without getting consensus within the team or considering that you might be the “first” of a particular demographic (thus meriting more conversation with you and with the congregation), or make compensation promises before consulting the finance or personnel committees. You can help the search team slow its roll and think more carefully about the pieces of a healthy process and the purposes behind them. For example, you could ask about what exposure the church has had to a woman in the pulpit and the resulting reactions or who all might need to be involved in certain decisions for the search team to feel confident about them.

• Search teams are often laser-focused on their goal of calling a pastor, and they might not have taken the time to consider the opportunities and big picture questions that a pastoral transition prompts. Your queries might stump the search team, and you could wonder aloud what it would take for the search team to formulate the answers.

• Search teams sometimes neglect to ground the search process spiritually. The search process is long, the congregation is anxious, and the responsibility is heavy, so the team wants to cull as much “soft” work as possible. (I contend that spiritual grounding is not in any way soft or extra but the heart of the matter.) You could offer to pray for the search team and its discernment at the end of an interview, if no one else indicates a desire to close in prayer. You could also ask how their involvement in the search process has impacted their discipleship.

• Clarity and thorough communication (among the team, with the congregation, with the candidates, and with the judicatory) are often the biggest challenges for search teams. You can encourage both through questions such as, “What is the tentative timeline for your process moving forward?” “How are you bringing the congregation along as you do the good work of the search?” “Whom should I contact and by what means if I have questions about the search process?”

• Once a search team and church as a whole become excited about your arrival, they will want you in the church office tomorrow. You can lead by sharing the importance of saying goodbye to your current context well and having a bit of space between calls - that you want to show up in your new congregation on day one having done the emotional work and the rest that will allow you to focus fully on this new season of ministry. And, of course, you’re certain the calling church will want to celebrate well the good work of the interim minister. All of this intentionality honors important relationships and models healthy ones.

Becoming the pastor

• Simply the way that you enter a space says something about how you will be as a pastor. This is not about charisma, though. It’s about attentiveness and engagement. Think about how you want to show up in your interviews and what would make that possible so that the search team can begin to imagine what it would look, sound, and feel like to have you as a pastor.

• Stating your needs and setting healthy boundaries begin during the search process. For example, you might need to help a search team design an in-person visit that leaves space for downtime, nursing, and/or exploring the community on your own: “I am so excited to be with you and to see your church and your city! I want to be at my best when we are together. I will need transition time between events so that I can rest and process my experiences.”

• You will never be in a better position to share with your prospective new church what you require in terms of compensation. Be prepared to help the search team (and possibly other committees such as finance and personnel) think through the various pieces of pastoral compensation, particularly as they relate to your experience and the local cost of living. Urge them not to lump everything together (e.g., salary, insurance, retirement), because that obscures and often lowballs what your actual pay for the ministry being done is. You are teaching the value of the pastoral office, establishing your self-advocacy, and showing your attention to detail.

• Entering a new call is not like showing up to the first day of a secular job. You are assuming a position, yes, but also joining a faith community. You also might or might not be bringing family into that faith community with you. All of this merits more than a passing welcome on the church’s part. You might have to share explicitly with the search team and congregation what hospitality looks like to you. Is it helping with the move (or not)? Are there connections the church can help make regarding a spouse’s employment? What would help kids feel cared for? These invitational aspects come naturally to some congregations but not to others. It’s good and right for you to be clear about what you need so that you can engage deeply and meaningfully with your new congregation.

In short, remain curious and open and ask for what you need. This stance will get the pastor-parish relationship off to a solid start, paving the way for your mutual ministry. But beyond that, it will seed a way of thinking in the congregation that can bear fruit in future processes, pastor search and otherwise.

Photo by Paul Green on Unsplash.

By now many clergy have been introduced to the good work of the Nagoski sisters on burnout, which they define as emotional weariness, the inability to give a crap anymore, and the persistent sense of yelling into the void. The Nagoskis talk about completing the stress cycle as a way to avoid the desire to collapse in a heap or run like your hair is on fire in the opposite direction from your current one. This means going all the way through the feeling (once you’re safe from the stressor itself) instead of stunting the emotion. If you haven’t read Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle, I highly recommend it. The book offers some practical tips for mitigating a persistent problem for people, and particularly women, in the helping professions.

But even as I read Burnout, there was something nagging at me. It wasn’t until reading a recent piece by culture study author Anne Helen Petersen that I figured out the issue. When we talk about burnout, we largely frame it as a personal problem: we need to set good boundaries and take better care of ourselves. And while that is absolutely true, completing stress cycles alone will not fix what I think is weighing heavily on so many ministers - demoralization. Petersen quotes an article on teachers by Doris Shapiro:

“Demoralization occurs when teachers cannot reap the moral rewards that they previously were able to access in their work. It happens when teachers are consistently thwarted in their ability to enact the values that brought them to the profession.”

Many teachers approach their vocations as callings, just like pastors do. And I see a direct connection from the difficulties teachers have faced during and even before Covid to those clergy are reckoning with. Yes, ministers work too much and bear responsibility (though not sole responsibility) to tend to their physical, mental, emotional, relational, and spiritual health. But underneath all the stress is a bigger problem, which is that pastors were called to partner with God in transforming lives and communities, and many of the people in our pews mightily resist even the smallest of changes. That is neither a personal problem nor an easy fix.

We cannot control what those in our care do. They might not ever change, and if that’s the case, it might be time to move on. But we can adjust how we show up as leaders and what questions we ask so that we invite our people to consider new modes of being and operating. We can do what some see as “soft” work but is actually wisely playing a long game, building the trust, spiritual muscle, and imagination required to make permanent changes. We can start with curiosity, simply saying, “Tell me more” or “What’s important to you about that?” We can bring in spiritual elements, musing aloud, “I wonder what God is up to in this.” We can incorporate regular reflection as individuals and teams to celebrate what we’ve done well and learn from our mistakes, taking the sting out of “failure” in the process. If we take this posture with our congregations, it might just initiate incremental experimentation that can pick up momentum.

Teachers, unfortunately, have limited say in curriculum standards, teaching methods, and learning benchmarks. Pastors have much more freedom. Let’s leverage it, encouraging and noticing a widening gap between what we’ve always done and what is possible so that we all can live fully into our callings and not become mired in the quicksand of demoralization.

Photo by Luke Porter on Unsplash.

Whew! You’ve almost made it through 2020. It has been a year of unexpected challenges, hasn’t it? This has manifested in a number of ways, with just one of them being the inability to go to in-person denominational meetings, conferences, trainings, and retreats. This means that you might have a good bit of money remaining in your professional expense fund, even after you’ve attended all the virtual events and bought all the books.

Every December I offer a “round up” special: I will round the amount left in your professional expense line item up to the next session value. My intent has always been to keep you from leaving any of your hard-earned benefits on the table and to encourage you to invest in your leadership growth for the coming year. I can’t imagine a better time to hit both of these marks. While it’s important to steward your church’s money well in these uncertain times, it’s also essential to use your available resources to prepare to pastor in a rapidly-changing world. Coaching is a great way to do that, because it

• is done remotely,

• takes place at your pace and on your schedule,

• is geared toward reframing your situation in helpful ways,

• helps you make positive steps forward, and

• can be completely customized to your goals, leadership style, and context.

If you are looking to make progress in such areas as

• finding a good oscillation between caring for others and caring for yourself,

• developing and grounding yourself in your pastoral identity when others are projecting their anxieties about the state of the world on you,

• searching for a new call and/or leaving your current one well under the restraints imposed by Covid-19,

• helping your church members engage well among themselves and in the community when there is no end to the pandemic in sight, or

• addressing conflict that is even trickier when those involved are unable to gather in person for conversation,

coaching can help.

The round-up special is valid in December only. Contact me or schedule a free exploratory call by December 30 to take advantage of this offer.

I wrote the post below three years ago, with all the blushing innocence that 2017 afforded us. I think, though, that taking the time to shift our foci between tasks is more important now than ever. The pandemic has smushed our work and personal lives into one amorphous mess, compelling us to try to do all the things while feeling like we do none of them justice. But what if we took a deep breath in between answering an email and answering the ten-questions-in-one hurled at us by our child? What if we spent a few moments in centering prayer in between Zoom calls? What if we took a short dance break in between filming worship segments? What if we did a brief body scan at bedtime and stretched out areas of tension so that we could rest better? We still wouldn’t have all the time we needed to complete our to-do lists - that’s simply not possible right now for many of us - but we would be able to show up more grounded for others and be kinder to ourselves. You are worth that, and so are the people you care about at church and at home.

I love my lists and my Google calendar. They make my chaotic life feel manageable(ish). Still, there are times when the to-dos meld into  asinglerunontask and events overlap. That’s when my brain kicks into hyperdrive, my eyes dart around my desk, and my heart picks up the pace. I’m TCBing, with output of questionable quality. I’m everywhere at once, but nowhere fully present. Maybe you can relate.

I confess that I sometimes I sing “I’m Every Woman” to myself with whiff of pride. But it’s not always (often? ever?) good to be every woman at every moment. I don’t want to be mentally running through research while eating dinner with my family. I’m not my best self as a leader if I’m sketching my sermon outline during a committee meeting. It’s hard to give good pastoral care to someone who is grieving when I’m still coming down off a tense conversation with a colleague. Yes, there are times when I have to manage multiple responsibilities, but not as often as I try to.

Hence the need for transitions: into and out of my workday, from one task to another, between conversations that require emotional awareness and sharp mental focus. Anytime a shift in mindset is warranted, I’ve got to take a moment to close one internal file and open the next. This transition allows me to consider how I want to show up for the situation I’m about to enter and to re-center myself so that I can live toward those intentions.

There are any number of ways I make the shift – sometimes more successfully than at other times, I admit. Taking deep breaths to re-set my brain. Jotting down notes about what I’ve been doing so that I can fully set that work aside and come back to it later. Doing a couple of quick yoga poses or pilates exercises. Shutting my eyes for five minutes (making sure to set an alarm!). Queueing up the playlists I’ve created for settling down and amping up. Turning over loose threads to God and asking for awareness and guidance going into whatever is next on the agenda. Taking a lap around the building.

What are the ways you transition from one task or event to the next, or even into and out of your day? Where do you need to build in a couple of minutes on the front and/or back end of your to-dos so that you can fully be you – insightful, compassionate, prophetic, gifted you – as a pastor and a person?

Photo by Suad Kamardeen on Unsplash.

During this strange season we have witnessed leadership that has helped us feel more ready to face challenges. I have been admiring this kind of leadership in and from you! (We have also felt rage and despair at leadership that passes the buck or exists only for the benefit of those in charge.) Here, in my observation, is what makes someone a true leader:

Great leaders listen. Leadership begins with tuning in - to the voices of others, to data, to the movements of the Spirit, to one’s own deep knowing and misgivings.

Great leaders ask. There are times for certainty, but they are much fewer than we tend to think. Curiosity will usually get us further.

Great leaders encourage. Some people think that threats and shame make those around us work harder. That’s a recipe for sabotage and high turnover, not to mention an approach antithetical to the gospel.

Great leaders equip others. No leader has all the insight and skills needed to promote progress or to clear hurdles. Plus, isn’t it simply fun to see the people around us understand and use their gifts?

Great leaders take appropriate responsibility. They accept credit for what went well while sharing praise with others who contributed. They refrain from shifting blame to others just to make themselves look better.

Great leaders communicate. They get the word out in as many ways as possible, as often as possible, often to the point of feeling like they are grossly overcommunicating. (Rarely, if ever, is overcommunication a thing.)

Great leaders adapt. In a time of accelerating change, leaders must be nimble. They know that pivots aren’t signs of failure but markers of forward thinking and responsiveness.

Great leaders strive to grow. Lifelong learning is the posture of a great leader.

Great leaders care. They care about both the people whose faces they see on a regular basis and those they don’t but whose lives are impacted by their actions.

Great leaders rest. They know the world will keep spinning if they take a nap, and that they will be better able to do all of the above if they tend to their physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual health.

Where do you see yourself reflected in these markers of a great leader?

Photo by KOBU Agency on Unsplash.

Sure, I’m biased. But I believe coaching is more valuable now than ever. Pastors are facing so many new situations for which there is no expert advice. We are all feeling our way along, and coaching can help you think through your gifts, needs, resources, and context so that you create a path that fits you and the people in your care. For example:

Is your church continuing to meet online for the foreseeable future, yet you’re exhausted and not sure how to make this means of ministry sustainable? Coaching can help you think through goals for this time, cull the to-do list down to the tasks that make accomplishing those aims possible, and a make plan for tackling the tasks.

Are you undecided about how to approach the traditional start of the program year in this very untraditional season of social distancing? Coaching can help you tap into your creativity and place this program year in a larger spiritual formation trajectory, making it easier to focus on and get excited about what is most important.

Are you looking for a new call during this pandemic, wondering whether churches are searching for pastors and how a candidate can tell her story well in these changed circumstances? Coaching can help you identify the added opportunities and challenges of being in search & call right now, enabling you to capitalize on the former and manage the latter.

Are you scratching your head (or, let’s be real, panicking) about how to balance supervising your child(ren)’s virtual or blended school while staying faithful to your ministerial role? Coaching can help you name how you want to show up for your family and your church, then make an actionable plan for how to operate that way.

Do you want to explore a new self care strategy since many of your usual outlets are unavailable to you? Coaching can draw out the characteristics that make self care effective for you and broaden your thinking about tactics that meet those criteria.

Has your pastoral position been downsized from full- to part-time because the offering has tailed off during the pandemic? Coaching can help you make the transition to being truly part-time - not just full-time with part-time pay - and to discover additional income streams if needed.

Is the polarization over mask-wearing morphing into political debate in your congregation - with a U.S. presidential election looming - and leaving you caught in the middle? Coaching can help you discern how to self-differentiate so that you can tend well to relationships rather than get hooked by arguments.

Not only can coaching assist in these areas and more, but it is fully customizable to your goals and your schedule. If you had professional development funds earmarked for conferences you can no longer attend, there is no better use of that money than to contract with a coach who can help you navigate all that 2020 is throwing at us. I welcome you to schedule a free discovery call here to learn more about how I approach coaching and to ask any questions you might have.

Photo by Edwin Hooper on Unsplash.

In his book The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion, social psychologist Jonathan Haidt covers a range of themes about which liberals and conservatives disagree. One is the care/harm theme in which the two polarities differently attribute definitions and causes of hurt and assign the responsibilities of society toward those who are vulnerable. In another, the polarities take varying stances toward people with power.

Our relationships toward these two themes are running beneath the surface of many COVID-19 conversations. Who is to blame for the spread of the virus? Who is supposed to do what about it? How well are our leaders serving us in this crisis? Who is the boss of me and my comings and goings as recommendations for ever more stringent social distancing guidelines are urged?

Right now these questions are only helpful insofar as they reduce the spread of disease. Beyond that, they are ingredients for introducing even more anxiety into a system that is already highly reactive. Still, the questions aren't going away.

For leaders, then, the need to self-differentiate is more important (and difficult) than ever. If we can be with our people rather than react to to them, we'll model ways to manage self and begin to infuse the system with more stability.

What does self-differentiating in a pandemic mean? Here are some thoughts:

Listen deeply to others. When people feel heard, seen, and valued, the tension in a conversation drops.

Stay curious. Seek to understand, whether or not you agree.

Don't try to change minds. Be clear about what you believe, but prioritize the relationship over the position.

Neither under- nor overfunction. This helps distribute responsibility throughout the system, evening out the emotions.

Balance thinking and feeling. You need both, but too much of one or the other will make it hard to keep connected with people.

Stay present with people. If you can be grounded where you are, there is always the potential for care and respect.

Take care of yourself. Self-differentiation is hard work. Shore up your support system as needed.

Your leadership matters. While others panic, blame, or scoff, your self-management is helping make it possible for those in your care not just to cope, but to assign meaning to this unprecedented experience.