The life of a pastor is busy. If you can track one down, ask, "How's life?" The response will probably include words like busy, crazy, chaotic, exhausting, tiring, REALLY busy, SUPER busy, or any other busy you can think of that's busier than your busy.
I'll admit to being a prime culprit of rattling off this type of response. That's because it's true: even the life of a small-town pastor is busy most of the time. But do you want to know a secret? I like being busy. Most pastors do. That's why, if we're not actually busy, we figure out a way to be anyway. We won't admit it, but we like being busy because it's usually the only way we'll ever feel a sense of accomplishment. We don't build stuff or seal a big business transaction or win a case. So we have to measure our accomplishments primarily by work ethic.
It's an illness. I'm a recovering workaholic, the son of 2 workaholics and the brother of a workaholic. It runs in our family, the incessant need to be busy. Which is why today, on my day off, I have a list of chores (including but not limited to: laundry, cutting the grass, cleaning the house for company this weekend). I could take this whole day to read a magazine, take a bike ride, watch TV and fall asleep with a cat on my lap, but then Kramer would burst in and yell at me.
Not today. It's the first day in over a week that it's not raining. I'm going golfing, and I'm not going to feel guilty about it, because we're not Puritans. We're allowed to do something that makes us feel good from time to time.
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