We are more than our jobs
On the good days, this is the best job in the world. Yet, as I wedge my foot into my heels, I must recognize the difficulties of our vocation.

I don’t work in a coal mine.
I repeat the mantra to myself as I tug my tights onto my legs and zip up my dress. I soothe my anxiety as I get ready to meet with someone who has been complaining about me to various members of the congregation.
I ignored the grousing at first. I told the good-natured reporters that if a person has an issue with me, they need to speak with me directly. Then I shrugged the complaints off, knowing that not everyone is going to like me. But the nastiness has become too loud. The complaints echo from too many people, and they’re beginning to obstruct the work we need to get done. And, to be honest, it troubles my soul.