CCBlogs thinking critically, living faithfully

Brett Younger's blog

I’m going through withdrawal. I still feel anxious on Saturday night and take a nap on Sunday afternoon—even though I haven’t done anything. I seek out former pastors so that we can talk about the glory and gunk of our former lives. Sometimes former pastors get a funny look on their faces as if they’re reminiscing about a high school sweetheart who got away. We are Wallendas without a tightrope, Kennedys without politics, Mannings without football. One of the ways I’ve been dealing with my mixed emotions is compiling a list of things I don’t miss about being a pastor.

I don’t miss knowing that the party will get louder after I walk out the door.
I don’t miss the alarm going off at 6:45 on Sunday morning.
I don’t miss looking around the Blockbuster for church members before I take James Bond to the checkout.
I don’t miss the phrase, “Pardon my language, Reverend.”
I don’t miss there being an 80% chance I’ll be called on to pray before a meal.
I don’t miss feeling responsible when it rains at the church picnic.
I don’t miss visiting a member’s third cousin in the hospital after a knee replacement, because the member “can’t get by to see her myself” and seeing the look on the patient’s face that says, “Who are you and why are you here?”
I don’t miss business meetings.

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