The emails I’m composing in my head are of the general ‘Fuck off’ variety, but with bigger words and aimed at the leadership of my parish.
I just might send them, too. I haven’t been to church since September, and we’re coming up on a time of year that’s going to be very hard for me. Lessee, this month there’s one one-year anniversary of the death of, next month there’s three one-year anniversary of the death ofs, and in January?
And if I go to church there’ll be demands to know where I’ve been and why I’m not in the choir, but even if I don’t show up, there’s emails. I dodge the phone calls because, well, I don’t ever answer my phone because I hate talking on the phone, it’s all I do at work all day. People who know me know that and will send me emails or text messages, but church people? Send me emails demanding I call them, with no other information why and what for.
(They wanted me to run an after-service discussion panel with 48 hours notice, on a weekend I had already made plans to be out of town.)
Right now I can’t rustle up any charity or forgiveness for that. Just an inarticulate rage.
So, the mental emails. Because maybe, maybe having an official sabbatical on the record would give me the breathing space to deal with my grief and my self and all those things I’ve been having to shove to the ‘Deal With This Psychological and/or Spiritual Trauma Later’ box. Let them know that they’ll see me when they next see me, and until then they will have to just deal with it on their own.
Maybe they’ll honor my wishes and leave me alone for a while.
Just like they honored my wishes to let me out of a group about engaging in listening processes with different demographical groups when I told them I felt my experiences were shot down with knee-jerk swiftness– OH WAIT, they keep operating under the assumption I’m in that group and sending me emails about how they missed me at the meetings!
I need a whole lot less committee and a whole lot more Jesus, and I am not finding that at my parish right now.