I'm, erm, kind of, maybe, eventually, being promoted. At work. That is, I'm on my way to being promoted. This means lots of things. It means better money, which is good. It means more hours, which is good and terrifying (for reasons I'll explain in a moment). It means more responsibility, which is just terrifying. It means I'm not actually terrible at my job, they aren't just keeping me around because they can't find an excuse to fire me (which is a relief, actually, 'cause I personally feel like a screw-up so often that I wasn't sure). I'm not sure I want it, but I've accepted it anyway. The most deeply terrifying thing is that I'm younger, in age and seniority, than everyone I'm being promoted ahead of, which could be......intresting. Bad-interesting.
More hours is terrifying because I'm...busy. I'm taking nine credit-hours this summer, six of which are in the first six weeks. As Daddy put it, sleep is for the weak. I'll be okay. But crazy classes and more hours at work is scary. Very scary.
It's been a long time since I sat with my friends and had good long talks and laughed and caught up on the gossip from the Little Mission. I ran into a handful at Starbucks after I got off work last Wednesday, but I didn't have time to stay long. And, the last time I did, sit with a friend, a very, very dear friend, for a long time, we had a scary conversation. She...doesn't think I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing. She thinks I'm supposed to, at least partly, come back. And...no. Whether that's not yet or no altogether, I don't know yet. But no. She thinks I'm wasting gifts and not living a fulfilling life and not serving God like I need to be. All true? Maybe. But I've got this insurmountable feeling that I'm just not ready yet, which is something this friend doesn't know and probably wouldn't get. After everything that happened at the Little Mission, and everything that's happened there since I left, I just...God and me have been going through a kind of a rough patch. It was the most emotionally, spiritually draining time of my life, and I've mostly just been trying to figure out which way's the ground and which way's the sky and who I am without the Mission and my work. And all the lines blur and the margins shrink and my Faith and my relationship with the God who made the stars gets kind of mixed and muddled in my head with everything else, with my fears and my dreams and my desires my politics and my nostalgia and my social anxiety and my regrets and it gets hard to keep my eyes on Jesus. But maybe not doing God-work because I don't feel ready is the biggest sin of all and maybe I know that already.
Which brings me to: the New Church, desperately, needs help in their children's ministry. Also, it's on the same side of town that I used to work on with the Little Mission. Ergo, if I got involved, I'd probably see some very familiar faces. I might get to see my babies again. And I could jump in with both feet, and I know God would catch me, and I could get to do something I love and be serving again and be useful again and maybe. But, hours at work. But, hours of school. But, here I am in a bind I never thought I would be - what if I can't make the time? But what if I did, and it means I finally feel like I belong here, at the New Church.
Also, what if ministry isn't about me? (This is, actually, something I already know. I promise. The practice...gets a little sticky.)
And, in the mix with all of this, Mum made a new friend. Who lives in our neighborhood. Who has a daughter. Who's a few years younger than me. This girl knows about me (technically, I think, has my phone number, although I haven't heard from her yet). This girl needs a friend. Mum wants me to reach out to her. I need a friend. I'd like to reach out to her.
(For the flaws in this situation, see point a) busy at work, point b) busy with school, point c) currently unqualified to be of any good to anybody, and point d) [maybe] busy at church, and also the fact that I'm rubbish at making friends with people my own age and am grossly out of practice at mentor-ish-ing.)