I have a job in my local judicatory. I'm not talking about my call, my pastorate. I'm talking about service to the larger body. I'm in the last year of a three-year term of service, and now I think I get it.
I get why people sometimes resign this job even before they get to the last year.
I get why people get grim-faced and tight-lipped at some point during this last year.
I get why people take a year (or two) off after they've finished their term of service.
I had a meeting this week, a meeting that had a bunch of people mad at me even before we were called to order. They were mad because I'm the one who gets to say "No." I don't decide "No," mind you. But I get to say it and explain it. And, boy do people get mad at me sometimes.
I cried after my meeting, in an office with two sympathetic and supportive colleagues. "I hate this job," I said.
"Why do you think God might have put you in this job right now?" one asked.
"Because I need to learn how to live with people being mad at me all the time," I blurted.
There's more to it than that. But this week, that's the part that's bugging me. I, who love to be loved (I know... that makes me human. OK.), am in a position that makes me the face of "No" for a year.
I know there's something valuable for me to learn here.
So far I hate it.