Over the course of 2022, I had not one, not two, but three different physical challenges that sent me to physical therapy. Because each challenge involved a different part of my body, I worked with three different therapists during that time. The gifts and skills of all three therapists, as well as a perfect-for-me therapy assistant, helped me through the toughest year of my life so far.

Because I was there so often that painful year, when I signed in each visit, I had to pause and think hard before filling in who I was seeing that day. Too much change. Too many problems.

But something stayed the same every single visit: the collection of inspirational posters lining the walls of the big treatment area. No matter where I looked, there was some strong man in an outdoorsy photo coupled with a grit-centric saying. “Determination: never stop pushing for what you want” or “Commitment: stay the course no matter what.”

I can’t remember what they actually said because they said nothing to me. At least nothing that my ears could hear as encouragement or blessing. I understood that the intent was to push us toward our treatment goal. I wasn’t confused. I was just exhausted.

I had nothing left in me that could push or stay the course. I felt empty. Worse, I felt trapped.

A long string of loss and struggle and grief had needed my attention for years. But over an eight year period I found myself in a seemingly endless season of unfamiliar shifting circumstances. I couldn’t find my feet in this new terrain. What I thought was solid ground often gave way. Hidden stones jutted just under the surface. I lost count of the times my step landed wrong, jarring me down to my bones.

All of my pastoral skills, all my chaplaincy training, all my theological thinking, all my passion for scripture and prayer and compassion and grace, all the wisdom of a lifetime of mentors, spiritual friendships, study, openness to learning and commitment to working through my stuff…none of it helped me find my way out of that maze of broken ground.

Even so, those things helped me get up and keep walking, over and over again, like PT for the soul. God was at work. I kept going, picking my way over sharp edges, trying to avoid loose stones, concentrating on each footfall, treading diagonally on the steepest declines, growing painfully familiar with falling.

Each rising was harder than the last one. I kept hoping the trail would even out, grow smoother. I just had to keep trying, keep going.

But after too long traveling that way, I was grit-less.

PT helps us find ways to work with or work around some part of us that isn’t working like it should. Contrary to the messages on those posters, what that year of PT did for me was help me come to the end of my grit, courage, and determination to get back up and keep going. That was the only way things were going to change.

In the middle of my work with one PT specialist, I found that things were suddenly getting worse, not better. Troubled and anxious, I perched on the examination table and told her how the past week had gone. I remember her tilting her head, listening closely, and then saying, “You know, sometimes we can work so hard on strengthening that we forget how important it is to soften, to release. So let’s focus on that today.”

Wait, what?!? I had no idea that was available to me. I had no idea that was part of the process.

She took me through a slow series of stretching exercises. We focused on my breathing. We worked on me actively relaxing certain muscles. I’d been strung so tightly for so long, it took intense focus to let myself let go.

Something shifted in me that session. As I moved through the series of stretches, she asked me more about what I do as a pastor. What I told her was what I wanted to do, what I value, what I believe is vital for the body of Christ, what I long to see in us and for us.

“I didn’t go into ministry to give my life to an institution,” I surprised myself by saying out loud. A long, slow, once-trapped breath suddenly poured out of me. She heard me. I heard myself.

Over time, I learned I could stop trying to walk that rock-filled path. I realized it wasn’t the only path. I started to give myself permission over and over to put down my determination, grit, courage, boldness, and whatever else the poster preachers demanded. I really didn’t have much of a choice anyway. Everything in me was so tensed and tied up in trying to be resilient that I was practically paralyzed.

In time, a new path emerged in that wilderness. In time, I’m becoming healed and rested enough to start again. But God knows it’s been a starting again that looks very different from how I have ever done things before. And thank God for that.

So here we are, starting again. Ten years after the publication of our book, A Divine Duet: Ministry and Motherhood, this communal blog, Ministry and Motherhood, is ready to take some new steps after a hiatus. Join us.

Here’s the details:

• What and When: 500-1000 word pieces are due on Thursdays. Single spaced, 12 point font. Photos welcome (with credit as needed). Pieces will be lightly edited and formatted for the space. Send to hello@ministryandmotherhood.com.
• What to write: Share where you are, what you’re learning, what you’re up against, what you’re thinking about, what you want to say about ministry, motherhood, and anything else the Spirit is stirring in you. This is a space for saying what you want and need to hear yourself say.
• Support: Need help zeroing in on a topic or exploring what you want to say? Want to write but feel overwhelmed or a little reluctant? I’ll be delighted to schedule a conversation for support and processing space.
• Why write?: Women called to ministry have things to say that our church and our world need to hear. Women have always been part of the story. If we don’t tell our own stories and frame our own reflections and insights, they tend to get lost in all that’s overflowing off our already full plates. • Purpose: To mutually create a space where we can tell the truths we see, the ones we feel burning in our bones like Jeremiah (20:9).

Contact hello@ministryandmotherhood.com to learn more and sign up for a week that best fits your life and schedule.

In the meantime, blessings for all who are starting again in big and small ways. May we know in heart, mind, and body that God is with us…as God always is.