I've been facing health struggles for some time.  I'm so grateful that it is unlikely that anything I'm dealing with will do me any real harm.  It is a strange feature of my journey with chronic illness that I feel the need to calm the fears of others by letting them know that..."yes, I'm sick all the time, but I'm not dying."  

I struggle, too, with accepting the limitations on my life and livelihood without anything being really "wrong".  As Pastors, I think we have a unique challenge that way.  I remember the scene from Monty Python and the Holy Grail where the head of the "Knight's Who Say Ni" fights Arthur and quickly loses his limbs to Arthur's sword while repeatedly insisting "It's just a flesh wound."  And we know that guy!  We have seen the power of God partner with the power of the human spirit to see people endure incredible challenges, pain, and life-threatening illness while still taking the kids to soccer and making the cupcakes and volunteering for the church rummage sale.  And because of these brave folks, no matter how often we teach people about balance and self-care, we feel the need to justify caring for ourselves unless we are literally dying.  

But chronic illness and chronic pain is something that the church is going to have to deal with in a way we never have before, and we who struggle may be just the people to craft a vision of what the spiritual journey looks like when you are walking it with pain in your joints.  

I'd love to hear what you are reading regarding the church and chronic illness.  In my own personal journey, I've just finished A Dangerously High Threshold for Pain by Imani Perry.  It was an insightful reminder of the dangers of ignoring our pain as well as an encouragement that I am not alone in my struggles and my ridiculous ways of pretending I'm ok when I'm not.

Two of the most challenging things about the ministry are how many hats you wear and how little control of which one you'll need to wear at any given moment.  So many productivity sites are geared to folks who know what their day will look like.  We're told to block out hours of time for particular tasks the night before so we have a good sense of the flow of our day.  But that doesn't take into account the emergency calls, last minute hospital visits, drop in chats, or even impromptu pastoral counseling sessions with our secretaries.  

As a person with ADD, my natural inclination in the face of such seemingly insurmountable planning obstacles is flit from one thing to another fairly rapidly.  The feeling that I might be interrupted never made me particularly uncomfortable, but did encourage my natural tendency never to settle down to any one thing for very long.  Why bother when as soon as I did, someone would probably call for advice or complaint?

Working with a coach has helped me to understand what is called "Start Up Cost", a diabolical topic I'll discuss in a future post.  But I've come to take seriously how difficult it is for me to begin a task.  To limit that cost on my energy, thought and effort, I began to use a technique called batching.  It is a game changer.

Batching doesn't require that you are able to block out your whole day in neat little chunks. However, if you find yourself with an expanse of time in your schedule, consider batching like things together.  For instance, I am much more efficient and effective when I plan a month of worship at a time instead of a week at a time.  Three months at a time is even better.  I am able to find a flow not only in how I'm writing, but in how the arc of the year is going to help establish a theme.  The work is so much quicker, but it is also deeper, more joyful, and more meaningful.  

I don't currently have a secretary, so I manage our social media.  Batching that work by creating and scheduling post publication several weeks ahead helps me to have better foresight about how they fit together, support upcoming events, or mark special occasions.  It keeps me in a creative mode that is a different skillset than when I'm writing sermons.  

Batching visitation helps me have a better mental map of where folks are, allows me to prepare for visits more easily with required communion and any seasonal gifts or literature, and to be in a less scattered mindset as I enter into relationship with folks who need me.  Phone calls are something that I struggle with.  Maybe it is a generational thing?  But if I batch them, it can feel like one long phone call, and it allows me to reward myself in a way that makes the stress more palatable, or to understand that I'm going to need to order take out for dinner because it was a "phone call day".  

Even if you don't have control over your day, you'll have some say in how you spend portions of it. Batching like tasks can make those moments more pleasurable and powerful.  In ministry, doing it all isn't a possibility, but doing it all at once is a great strategy.