Broken Keys and New Year's Resolutions

Unbeknownst to me, my key broke off in the lock late on Christmas evening as I arrived home to my apartment after spending the evening with my family.

I'm not sure what happened, because I got into the building safely and was none the wiser that anything was out of the ordinary until, just after lunch today, I went out to take the garbage out on my way out to what I thought was to be an afternoon and evening of a couple of Boxing Day errands followed by time with my family.

My plans were halted abruptly when, having duly deposited the refuse in the bin, I realized that on my keychain I had only half a key to the building. And no mittens.

I was unsuccessful in buzzing a couple of my neighbours to try to get back into the building, but thankfully before frostbite set in some kindly souls happened along and let me in again.

However, the lack of a means to ensure safe entry into the building has held me hostage, in a manner of speaking, for the rest of the day. The family engagements were canceled, the errands placed on hold. Being Boxing Day, the apartment offices are, of course, closed--and this hardly constitutes an emergency that cannot wait until tomorrow morning.

And so, here I sit, safe and snug inside my home. And here I shall stay, however much I would like to be doing other things.

Can a broken key be a gift from God, I wonder?

You see, December has been a marathon. A happy but exhausting marathon. It has consisted of planning Christmas concerts and banquets, attending even more Christmas events, preaching, and planning leading Christmas Day worship, on top of all the regular duties of pastoral care and presence. Of course, all of these have been firsts, too--which happily means that next year I'll know more and be better equipped to manage all the things.

All of it is good work, work that feeds my soul and makes me grateful for the gift of the call this congregation has entrusted to me.

It is also exhausting, and has meant many long days and few opportunities for my introverted self to recharge away from the hustle and bustle, to seek out the stillness where I can sense the Spirit's presence most clearly, to set down the needs of others long enough to wonder about my own.

Enter today, and a morning spent blissfully drinking tea and staring into the lights on the Christmas tree, tidying up and attending to laundry and setting things right in my home once again, where the chaos of the month has been taking its toll.

And then, the broken key, and the cancellation of any further plans, which has meant I could enjoy a favourite show, do a little baking (because, of course, none of that got done before Christmas), and make supper--a balanced meal to enjoy in the comfort of home. And tonight I will curl up with a good book--a gift from new friends at church, which I am dearly looking forward to diving into, which I can tell already itches where it scratches right now, which will call me back to the first love of the One who does the calling in the first place.

As 2019 draws nearer, I'm determined that I will do better at finding the balance that I need to sustain pastoral ministry in the long run. I don't know what the answer looks like, except that learning to exercise the little word 'no' with grace and gentle firmness is going to have to play a role. I know that I need to learn what it is to play again, to know what gives ME joy, to create space for prayer and silence and long walks and all of the other things that give me life and root me in the glorious gift of spending time loitering with my Creator.

And I hope that it won't involve too many more broken keys before I learn to take seriously the health and well-being of my own soul.