The more we keep from changing, the more we stifle ourselves to stay the same. I feel this deep in my bones most weeks as I attempt to “run” a church.

Now, I know I don’t actually “run” it. I’m downright grateful for that.

I am glad all final decision-making jolts past me like sprinter Sha’Carri Richardson. Still, there are expectations.

These expectations include worship planning, special event coordinating, gathering questions for this month’s Pub Theology, updating the bulletin with my weekly thoughts, sharing reading recommendations to the congregation, staff questions, answering random phone calls from unknown numbers, saying yes to a funeral, and the constant apologizing for emails I never replied to. I plow through board and committee meetings at the frequency of