Saying good-bye to my congregation

It was mid-September, just a few days after the congregation had received my letter letting them know I’d be leaving my position as pastor at the end of December. I’d served the congregation for 24 years. I wasn’t worn out or burnt out, but I felt called to discover the next chapter of my life and ministry. I felt like I did my senior year of high school: that I’d completed my story here and was excited—and terrified—to discover the new story that was beckoning me.

I met for coffee with Sharon, a church member who had known me a long time, and shared with her how I’d made my decision to leave and what I hoped might come next. Before I could run off to my next appointment, she said, “It sounds like you want to spend this fall worrying about what you’re going to do next year. But I have another thought. What if instead you were present here this fall with us? I mean, what if you were present with your grief and the work of letting go? That would be the best preparation for you and for us for whatever comes next. In January you’ll know what you need to do.”

I sat back in my chair. I told her that her advice sounded like the gospel. I always know it’s a gospel word when my first reaction is “I don’t like this,” my second “I don’t want to do this,” and my third “This is so true and exactly what I need to believe and do.” I wondered if I had enough faith to do it.