The other day at (hospital) work, I reflected on carrying a pager.

When we chaplains are working, we carry pagers and respond to the pages. We can never, or at least I can never, plan our days beyond, “If I have a chance, I’ll do that, depending on the pager.” Even when talking with a family in the moments after a death, we are carrying a pager, aware of the world outside this moment. Our priority is here. But we are also aware of there. Because the trauma arriving may be, has been, our next death.  

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Since June 4, I’ve been mostly not present here at 300wordsaday.com. I told you then that I was getting cranky and that I needed to step back from writing for a bit. Or, as I wrote in my other newsletter, Finding Words in Hard Times, I needed to step back from publishing the words that I was writing.

So I kept writing a bit. And I kept working at the hospital and I finished teaching a course in preaching and our grandson Ben visited regularly.

I’ve been thinking about you during this month, mostly being grateful for not having to worry about getting something ready every day, and going to the archives, or to old sermons.

When there are expectations, no matter what the source or how valid, I think about meeting those expectations. As if I’m carrying a pager.

But here’s what I realized.

When I’m not at work, I’m not carrying a pager. I’m not contractually obligated to know all about everything, to respond to everything.

Unless, of course, I am constantly looking at all the things. I may have more time to attend to what’s important if I spend less time turning to what every algorithm tells me is urgent.