I feel like such a fair-weather blogger. Where some folks tend to their blogs incessantly, mine is for occasions when I really feel that there is something to say – something that seems important, pressing, or particularly vivid for me. And when life gets incredibly busy, as it has been these past months, the blog almost drops off of my list of priorities altogether. I came through the Advent and Christmas season in good spirits, a little tired after my first go-around in a new congregation but I think that’s to be expected. I was amazed at how quickly Epiphany flew by and I’m aghast that that we are at the beginning of Lent.

What has been on my heart so much these past weeks, and what is finally taking shape in my mind, is the ongoing challenge of staying balanced and centered when life is moving at a breakneck speed. New York is a stunning place to live and to work and I have have been telling friends that I am not just getting by but I feel that I am living and thriving here. Professional and personal connections are growing. My ministry at Park Avenue Christian Church keeps me very busy but there is much to celebrate – joy and a sense of play in our work together, while striving to make music of high quality and from diverse styles and traditions. We recently began a new Youth Chorale that is contributing regularly to worship. This ministry offers free music training to young people in the city but asks them come to weekly rehearsals and to sing every Sunday. They are doing a wonderful job and I have been touched by their energy and spirit.

I am settled in my apartment and my life has a certain orderliness and regularity which has really helped to give me a sense of place. And I have a growing relationship with a wonderful man, which is not something that I exactly planned (who does?!) but it feels so good to share time together. I haven’t talked much about my relationships on the blog, partly because I have been single for the past two and half years, but this connection feels qualitatively different than any I have had before and I am very excited.

But the blessing of many good things happening at the same time also has a shadow side for me.  In the middle of all this, I have found it difficult to stay centered!  I begin to derive my sense of well being and worth from the feeling of being busy and productive, from how connected or distant I feel in my relationships, or how I feel others are responding to me as a leader or as a person. On those days when things don’t go as well as I had hoped, when I make mistakes or disappoint those I love (or even worse disappoint myself), when I sit down to practice and my fingers or feet feel clumsy, when I feel creatively dry and barren…I find myself so quickly teetering toward negativity and anger. There are many fears, some real and others self-imposed; so many voices with varied or conflicting opinions and perspectives; so many doubts that often plague my inner life. It is amazing how quickly I find myself in a funk, or even if not even that extreme, just feeling closed off from the world and others. It can be as simple as a word or a glance from someone.

As I look back on this past Epiphany season, God has been speaking consistently, even insistently, to me in the midst of my busyness. It all began back in early January with the Baptism of Christ, the descent of the Holy Spirit on Christ and his affirmation as the “beloved One.” The season also ended with the voice from the cloud speaking similar words: “This is my beloved Child; listen to him.” But I didn’t expect to hear them again on the First Sunday of Lent, this time from the Gospel of Mark and as a preface to Jesus’ wandering in the wilderness for 40 days. Every time I encounter these words they resonate deeply within me, especially since my personal story of faith has been shaped by the understanding that I am God’s beloved, too.  There is nothing I can do to earn God’s love, no way that I can get away from it. It has been and will always be a constant.

But the challenge for me (and maybe for all of us) is remaining “in” that love, especially when life is busy, even with the work of the Church! The crazy thing is that I am rather addicted to the feeling that I get when I am busy with “God’s work.” I have gotten strangely accustomed to the idea of running around doing a million things to prepare for worship each week (almost neurotic over-preparation). Though I know I’m not a complete control freak, there is a part of me that enjoys being at the center of things. As much as I sometimes lament the fact that much of the music program in my church leads directly back to me, I sort of like the control. There have been times in the past when I wondered whether I could take a Sunday or two off because I feared whether things would go alright without me there. Yes, perhaps there is real care and concern for my congregation written into that but as I’m typing it, it also sounds really creepy. It sounds like there is a part of me that needs to be needed and I’m not sure if that is living into my identity as a beloved child of God!  If the church is really about the people of God doing the work of ministry and not paid ministers doing it for them, is my constant presence enabling others to step into leadership roles or inviting them to come alongside me as partners in ministry?  Or is it really a glorified one-man band? I am struggling to see whether my understanding of myself as God’s beloved has really permeated deeply into all parts of my life, especially into that most vital expression of vocation in the church.

I had a great conversation with a friend and mentor today and he said something that really got me thinking. He mentioned that sometimes it is important for those of us who serve the church to make ourselves scarce – not to bury ourselves more deeply in the work but to gently step away and let our absence be recognized and felt by the community. It can give a very subtle cue that we are not indispensable, but it is also a healthy reminder to ourselves that we are not. Though I know that Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness were in preparation for his public ministry, the Gospels are clear that even amid the almost relentless pace of his ministry, he regularly retreated to a quiet and lonely place to pray. He made himself scarce.

I am seriously thinking that maybe part of my Lenten journey this year, and part of the ongoing inner work that I need to do as a leader in the church, is to find ways to consciously step back from my ministry and to take the time that I need to rest, relax and remind myself that my work (even what seems like good and important and necessary labor for the Kingdom) needs to be seen in the light of God’s extravagant love for me and for the people that I am called to serve. It is a challenge, especially in a fast-paced place like New York City and in a growing congregation with lots of new programs and potential. But my spiritual health and the health of my congregation will be served by my ability to hold onto things lightly, to invite God’s peace and non-anxious presence not just into personal situations and challenges, but into my ministry in the church.

Am I the only person who has struggled with this?  I would really love to hear from others out there who may have found a healthy balance and are finding ways to living into their belovedness within the context of their ministry.