It’s been a challenge, but I am at the place right now where I need to speak up, and to put down.

After some 3 and a half years at church, setting up every Sunday morning and tearing down every Sunday afternoon, and trying to lead a small group one night a week, I have arrived at the place where I am tired, and I am ready to step away.

The challenge I face is two-fold.

I feel some guilt for quitting. I feel some guilt for somewhat arbitrarily deciding that I need to quit doing things there.

The truth is, it’s not really arbitrary. I’ve wanted to step away for a while, but the church has been undermanned, and so I have tried to stay in there, doing what I’ve thought was service to the congregation. And the setup and teardown work has been valued, no doubt.

With the Ung’s leaving the group in December, and then Tim’s absence from the group once he came back to the U.S., I’ve tried to be the driver of the whole thing. But I’m not wired to do that. I’ve tried to teach, and coordinate, and contact, and cheerlead. Truth is, while I’ve tried, I’m an introvert who has just wanted to disappear for a while. I dislike administration and being the organizer. I’ve wanted to run away for some time. But I’ve trusted that everyone else has benefitted from me being there, trying to keep things together. But in little ways, while doing that, I’ve felt like I’m kind of slipping apart.

Which suggests I probably should just quit and not worry about how others think about it.

Besides feeling guilt about quitting, though, the actual act of quitting is another challenge.

I feel like a failure enough in my life that quitting anything compounds a sense within that I didn’t do something well, or well enough. I suppose I let myself view it too much like a race that I started, and for whatever reason failed to finish.

The truth here is that his group, born some 2 and a half years ago, has had a pretty good life in it. I’ve been close to a handful of families for a great chunk of time. Certainly, we’ve seen many people come and go. I feel some failure about those who visited that didn’t stick around. I feel more failure about those who came for longer periods and then left after a while. I feel too much like I wasn’t friendliness, or that I wasn’t authoritative enough, or well-prepared enough. I can find a thousand reasons for people coming and going through the group- or for salvations not being declared, or for fruits not being born. I can find a thousand reasons from my evangelical heritage to be harsh with myself for not being this or that “enough”.

But groups have lives. And we’ve stuck together pretty well for a few years.

What I do feel at present, though, is a weight over my heart as each service obligations approaches. Not joy.

I feel a deep longing to withdraw. And to sleep in some Sundays. And to say, “Lord, where am I, with You? Who am I?” And hopefully, after that, “Lord, what’s next?”

It’s fortunate our congregation is moving out of Highland High School at the start of June and into a new permanent facility. My plan is to end my commitments at that time.

And figure out what I am doing in my life now, somewhat selfishly, for myself.

I look forward to solitude.

My danger lies in losing what friendships I do have from Sagebrush Highland if I am less active. The reality is, I struggle to develop and to retain friendships. This is a reality in me.

I need to find another place or way at Sagebrush Highland, or somewhere, to serve others. I know joy lies in that. Just not serving in a way that makes you feel constantly anxious and fearful and defeated.

What I must do, though, is find ways to keep loving others, and keep doing that. That is critical in Christian life.

I will try to be gentle with myself, and firm with others, and send a note to the pastor and the kids director this week, pronouncing my retirement. And hope for their understanding and grace.

My wish for this summer, then, would be to find a life mentor (a longtime longing), to deal with myself with some issues, to find clarity about “Next” in my personal life and in service, and to develop some disciplines. I have to laugh at that last one, but it’s always with me.

But I do need to just put a lot of stuff down.

And quell the noise and outside.

And listen.

Changing is challenging, but at times, necessary.