I mentioned in a recent post that I am a girl who likes a plan. I'm starting to see what a defining characteristic that is for me. At this point as a parish, we have several possible futures before us, but we haven't been told clearly which one to head toward. In fact, the honest-if-taboo truth is that the closest thing we have to a plan is that we are being encouraged to work toward a future that might not be possible. I sat in front of my pastor today and said "I want to know what the goal really is! Even if it's not an ideal goal, at least we can get to work on moving toward that goal pastorally."
But just because I want an assignment that I can get to work on, that doesn't mean I'll get one. We joked that I could just "live the lie" and move toward this outcome for now, until I hear differently. Okay.
Meanwhile my mother is in a health crisis that goes from fast-to-slow, from progress to regression, from togetherness to not-with-it-ness. She is not following a tidy path toward either direction, and I find myself just wishing it were more black or white. White would be lovely but at least black would be something I could wrap my brain around and make a strategy for.
Even as a kid, I remember coming home from school with a bad result and racing, rather than taking my time, toward my fate. I wanted to go ahead and know the outcome, rather than wonder how bad it might be.
It's a selfish attitude, I s'pose. I'm cool with things going to hell because at least once we get there I can start to work writing up a map of the place. I should be... hoping for the best? Well, if the best is the destination, then let's get to work in that direction. Just give me the plan!
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment