![]() Every discussion was closely filtered as I tried to remember my job… as I tried to remember they could still say “goodbye” in only a matter of months. Every thought was about five years down the road. In a position where my job was to get in, help to process and move forward, and get out… I just wanted to stay.Įvery part of me ached to be there. I felt myself sliding down a slippery slope and couldn’t find anything to grab onto. I began to welcome the interruptions in the office rather than dreading them. The tireless days were filled with joy and excitement. I served communion to a young adult who hadn’t stepped foot in the sanctuary in years. I got my first hug and a “thanks” from a youth. I took my confirmation class on a retreat. So, I worked until I had nothing left to give at the church and then went home to run a few job searches, update my PIF, and pray that something – anything- would show up. What college will I go to? What seminary will I go to? Where will I work after graduation? Where will I work when this contract runs out? Where will I go when they find an installed pastor? Every day marking one more drop of sand in the hour glass. A side-line life I had lived since the beginning of time, it seemed. I was also trying to figure out my next step beyond this position. My days off were spent problem solving from my couch at home. on a good day, eating lunch at the desk as I kept working. Among other struggles, I barely slept and lost all sense of personal life and boundaries as I tried to dig myself out of the chaos I had jumped into (fall in youth ministry is anything but slow and peaceful – if you ever take a youth ministry job, start in December.) I sat down at my desk no later than 8:30 a.m. It was something I knew I was good at and even better, I would be serving with some fantastic, much more experienced pastors. A weird way to describe it, but an appropriate one I think. Until one party falls head over heels in love with the other. “Transitional” is a fancy word for “interim who can reapply and possibly stay,” but at the same time after a year, neither party would be caught off guard if it is decided that it is not a good fit and the contract isn’t renewed. After interviewing one another (and after they interviewed a few others), we agreed that it was a good fit for the time being. The church needed someone at the desk and in the classroom until they could conduct a full search for an installed pastor. It is a filler for two parties – I needed a job as my contract ran out with my previous position and could not be renewed. Only five months into my first transitional position, I know this isn’t for me. I truly admire interim pastors who make a career out of going from one church to another and helping congregations work through loss, grief, discernment, and rebuilding. ![]() No course can teach you what to do when the one thing you want is likely the one thing you can’t have in that field of ministry. I entered this position knowing the nature of it – I had even been through training for this, but no one can train you for the day that the good-for-now, transitional job becomes the dream job and renews a passion that had been packed away in a tidy little box and hidden in the back of the closet. But it is one of those hidden nights – one of those nights when I can’t sleep because of the nature of this fleeting call. I don’t know if anyone will ever read what I am writing now. I don’t know if anyone has ever actually written about the non-professional side of interim or transitional ministry – the side that stays well hidden, out of sight and out of mind, from the majority of the world. ![]()
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