And now that everybody knows that my boss (my pastor, my mentor, my friend, my like-minded counterpart, my encourager, challenger and leader) has resigned, I am going to unravel yesterday's post. I am doing this partly because I don't want my vagueness to be overly frustrating for readers and partly because I would like to express more. (Also for the fun of the writing exercise.)
[I got the news Tuesday by email but did not directly interact with him til our staff meeting the following day].
It wasn't that easy to get out of bed in the morning (but I did). [When we first saw one another other, on our way to the board room, he glanced at me and looked away with no acknowledgment and I was relieved to know that he had well predicted that I was taking the news hard.] I hid inside a Pepsi can. [When it was just the two of us in the board room I took my sweet time emptying my soda into a cup with ice. He asked what kind of chips I wanted and I focused on that stream of pop like I was doing heart surgery just so I didn't have to look at him while he was talking to me. I didn't want him to talk to me.] I stared at a wooden table for an hour. I smiled when I meant to smile and I laughed at something hilarious. [Glad that I could laugh and not try to MAKE myself more sad than I was. Things are still funny. My favorite was when a coworker said in his story, "Kentucky, or wherever he's from," and my boss subtly amended, "Boston." I chuckled without thinking. It's typical of those two...One to speak without thinking and take wild guesses; the other to know and recall precise and accurate facts. It's funny.] I flipped out about the [word] "irregardless" (WHICH IS NOT A WORD). ["IRREGARDLESS" IS NOT A WORD. It has an inherent double-negative which is dumb. It would be like saying "undeflate". You should say "regardless" (as in despite) or "irrespective" (as in despite or notwithstanding or even though).] I was quiet. I ate my lunch because I understood that's what humans do at meal time.
The forty-foot hallway was three football fields end-to-end and yes, I started feeling like I was underwater. [This was the hallway between the boardroom and my boss' office. I go to speak with him after most staff meetings one-on-one or he stays in the boardroom. I have grown to love those times, where we don't only talk business but funny things, difficult things, any things. I think it's great when he puts his feet up and closes the door because he's not going anywhere.] I swam in circles until I had drummed up adequate courage. [I tell you, I felt dread. My heartbeat shot up, and I was reading things, looking at things, checking my bag, walking back and forth in that hallway deciding whether I could or should talk to him now or wait another week. Until this meeting, I had not made eye-contact with him, and had answered his few direct questions shortly. It's not that I was upset with him; I didn't even plan to behave this way - I simply couldn't make myself face him.]
I stood for the first time on a threshold I've been welcomed through on a hundred occasions. [His doorway and the view from it looked weird and foreign when they should have been totally familiar.] I asked the only question I could find ["Can you tell me what led you to make this decision?" was the mature, measured version of the "But why???" that I wanted to whine.] and I absorbed all the information presented. [His answer made more sense than I thought it would. It was substantial and a very, very small part of me said, "I get it!" The biggest knot in my stomach was untied.] Because I really didn't have any more questions, because I really didn't have comments or statements and because I was underwater I played out my to-do list in my head so I could force my voicebox to produce, "I should go." (I didn't know how to stay!) [By this I mean, in his office. I couldn't have the normal everyday conversation because it would have been fake. I also was aware that my disposition was making him feel badly.] My words landed nowhere and I was given more information.
I loosened imperceptibly [Here I remember he is not a stranger and that in some sense, nothing has changed.] but as stark reality threatened to overwhelm me, I blurted, "I gotta go," at my next opportunity. I had forgotten the to-do list; I was losing my ability to stay. [This was where I realized that we couldn't really talk about it. This was something I needed to grapple with on my own.] The watery ambiance was observed and asked after. [He said, "You seem quiet and subdued..." I threw up my hands and made an exasperated facial expression and sound as if to say, "Are you kidding me? How did you think I would react?!" Immediately I realized it was harsh but it was honest. I thought it was funny that he said I seemed quiet because I am naturally a quiet person and have been of few words in other staff meetings. He pressed, "Why?"] I retorted, "you know why,"* with more attitude than expected. My assertion was correct. [His wordless response confirmed for me that he really did understand.]
Pressure increased as topics changed [He was steering the convo to the innocuous and everyday.] and I felt cornered into action. I pushed deliberately out of the chair and declared, "I'm leaving." Seaweed caught my ankle [He was talking to me about the shirt I was wearing, very clearly trying to get me to linger. It works every other time. He knows how to perpetuate a conversation and unless I have somewhere else to be, I always stay. I think it was his paternal instinct kicking in, wanting to keep me in a safe place while I was upset. In that moment I was thrilled for his daughter. She is/will be well loved.] and I very patiently unraveled it. [I took none of his bait, inching closer and closer to the doorway.] I left [without a goodbye because his last two sentences to me were platitudes and they threatened to enrage].
I left.
I don't know how to be here. [This time I mean both in his office and at our church.]
*One of the reasons I could confidently say, "You know why," was that I sent this in an email to him six weeks ago:
"You probably already know this by the look on my face any time you mention leaving Crestwicke and I know that my preferences don't make your career choices BUT it would be wonderful if you didn't leave our church any time soon. That's all I'm saying. At this very moment I can't imagine who else I could or would want to work with but obviously God is sovereign so whatever happens in the future will be good (because He is good), even if it is unfathomably sad at first."
I read that email Wednesday morning before the staff meeting and it was hard to swallow my own (borderline prophetic) words. I had already decided I would choose to be OK with such a possibility. "Unfathomably sad" was a freakily accurate description.
--
Today was weird. Throughout the entire service, I was quiet, sad and hanging on every word of each song, Scripture, prayer and of the sermon, but by the time the announcement was being made, I was feeling decidedly less sad. It was odd to watch others receive and respond to the news and some react the way I did (so I could finally be able to talk to someone else who would get it) but to not quite be in that place any more. At the beginning of the service I didn't fit in because I was all dejected and indrawn and by the end of the service I also didn't fit in because I was not all shocked and bewildered.
If nothing else, I have hope. Today was good for hope.
[I got the news Tuesday by email but did not directly interact with him til our staff meeting the following day].
It wasn't that easy to get out of bed in the morning (but I did). [When we first saw one another other, on our way to the board room, he glanced at me and looked away with no acknowledgment and I was relieved to know that he had well predicted that I was taking the news hard.] I hid inside a Pepsi can. [When it was just the two of us in the board room I took my sweet time emptying my soda into a cup with ice. He asked what kind of chips I wanted and I focused on that stream of pop like I was doing heart surgery just so I didn't have to look at him while he was talking to me. I didn't want him to talk to me.] I stared at a wooden table for an hour. I smiled when I meant to smile and I laughed at something hilarious. [Glad that I could laugh and not try to MAKE myself more sad than I was. Things are still funny. My favorite was when a coworker said in his story, "Kentucky, or wherever he's from," and my boss subtly amended, "Boston." I chuckled without thinking. It's typical of those two...One to speak without thinking and take wild guesses; the other to know and recall precise and accurate facts. It's funny.] I flipped out about the [word] "irregardless" (WHICH IS NOT A WORD). ["IRREGARDLESS" IS NOT A WORD. It has an inherent double-negative which is dumb. It would be like saying "undeflate". You should say "regardless" (as in despite) or "irrespective" (as in despite or notwithstanding or even though).] I was quiet. I ate my lunch because I understood that's what humans do at meal time.
The forty-foot hallway was three football fields end-to-end and yes, I started feeling like I was underwater. [This was the hallway between the boardroom and my boss' office. I go to speak with him after most staff meetings one-on-one or he stays in the boardroom. I have grown to love those times, where we don't only talk business but funny things, difficult things, any things. I think it's great when he puts his feet up and closes the door because he's not going anywhere.] I swam in circles until I had drummed up adequate courage. [I tell you, I felt dread. My heartbeat shot up, and I was reading things, looking at things, checking my bag, walking back and forth in that hallway deciding whether I could or should talk to him now or wait another week. Until this meeting, I had not made eye-contact with him, and had answered his few direct questions shortly. It's not that I was upset with him; I didn't even plan to behave this way - I simply couldn't make myself face him.]
I stood for the first time on a threshold I've been welcomed through on a hundred occasions. [His doorway and the view from it looked weird and foreign when they should have been totally familiar.] I asked the only question I could find ["Can you tell me what led you to make this decision?" was the mature, measured version of the "But why???" that I wanted to whine.] and I absorbed all the information presented. [His answer made more sense than I thought it would. It was substantial and a very, very small part of me said, "I get it!" The biggest knot in my stomach was untied.] Because I really didn't have any more questions, because I really didn't have comments or statements and because I was underwater I played out my to-do list in my head so I could force my voicebox to produce, "I should go." (I didn't know how to stay!) [By this I mean, in his office. I couldn't have the normal everyday conversation because it would have been fake. I also was aware that my disposition was making him feel badly.] My words landed nowhere and I was given more information.
I loosened imperceptibly [Here I remember he is not a stranger and that in some sense, nothing has changed.] but as stark reality threatened to overwhelm me, I blurted, "I gotta go," at my next opportunity. I had forgotten the to-do list; I was losing my ability to stay. [This was where I realized that we couldn't really talk about it. This was something I needed to grapple with on my own.] The watery ambiance was observed and asked after. [He said, "You seem quiet and subdued..." I threw up my hands and made an exasperated facial expression and sound as if to say, "Are you kidding me? How did you think I would react?!" Immediately I realized it was harsh but it was honest. I thought it was funny that he said I seemed quiet because I am naturally a quiet person and have been of few words in other staff meetings. He pressed, "Why?"] I retorted, "you know why,"* with more attitude than expected. My assertion was correct. [His wordless response confirmed for me that he really did understand.]
Pressure increased as topics changed [He was steering the convo to the innocuous and everyday.] and I felt cornered into action. I pushed deliberately out of the chair and declared, "I'm leaving." Seaweed caught my ankle [He was talking to me about the shirt I was wearing, very clearly trying to get me to linger. It works every other time. He knows how to perpetuate a conversation and unless I have somewhere else to be, I always stay. I think it was his paternal instinct kicking in, wanting to keep me in a safe place while I was upset. In that moment I was thrilled for his daughter. She is/will be well loved.] and I very patiently unraveled it. [I took none of his bait, inching closer and closer to the doorway.] I left [without a goodbye because his last two sentences to me were platitudes and they threatened to enrage].
I left.
I don't know how to be here. [This time I mean both in his office and at our church.]
*One of the reasons I could confidently say, "You know why," was that I sent this in an email to him six weeks ago:
"You probably already know this by the look on my face any time you mention leaving Crestwicke and I know that my preferences don't make your career choices BUT it would be wonderful if you didn't leave our church any time soon. That's all I'm saying. At this very moment I can't imagine who else I could or would want to work with but obviously God is sovereign so whatever happens in the future will be good (because He is good), even if it is unfathomably sad at first."
I read that email Wednesday morning before the staff meeting and it was hard to swallow my own (borderline prophetic) words. I had already decided I would choose to be OK with such a possibility. "Unfathomably sad" was a freakily accurate description.
--
Today was weird. Throughout the entire service, I was quiet, sad and hanging on every word of each song, Scripture, prayer and of the sermon, but by the time the announcement was being made, I was feeling decidedly less sad. It was odd to watch others receive and respond to the news and some react the way I did (so I could finally be able to talk to someone else who would get it) but to not quite be in that place any more. At the beginning of the service I didn't fit in because I was all dejected and indrawn and by the end of the service I also didn't fit in because I was not all shocked and bewildered.
If nothing else, I have hope. Today was good for hope.
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