Friday, September 14, 2012

4 Calendars


Recently, I attended a meeting at an area church.  Those attending carried with them passion and devotion to do the will of the Lord in the world.  I was there, too.  We met in a conference room, of sorts.  What struck me like a phone book on the back of my head was that there were four calendars on the walls of the room.

I did my best to stay engaged with the discussion and proceedings, but I couldn’t help but feel woefulness of those calendars.  In fact, even though they were attached securely to the walls, I could feel their weight upon my shoulders.  Nothing in the meeting’s agenda related to anything written on any calendar, but they each looked at me with a cold stare of importance and insistence. 

Even though I didn’t know for sure, I could guess the theme of each calendar.  Two of them aided worship planners for thematic and musical planning for upcoming worship events at this particular church.  A third scheduled events outside the confines of the property that had some sort of missional significance.  The fourth was considerably smaller and much busier in its appearance due to the writing on each date and various colored stickers on various dates. 

Why would these aids to planning create in me such tension?  Detailed planning, I know, is necessary, but it drives me crazy because it weighs my soul down.  Someone is responsible for the leadership and the carrying out of these detailed plans.  Someone is held accountable for the success and/or failure of each proposal and idea.  Sorry, that’s not me.

Why is all this necessary?  Chances are its because some A-type people feel the need to organize and implement.  Again, sorry, that’s not me. 

I don’t want to.  Don’t look at me.  The things I’m passionate about, I’ll organize and carry out, but, if I have the power, I’ll delegate and hope for the best.  If I’m not delegating, I’ve come to the point in my life to know what floats my boat and what sinks it.  If it sinks it, I’ll tell ya.

God bless all calendar makers and keepers.  Sorry, that’s not me.