I am tired.
I know why I am tired, and I don't know why I am tired.
My feet hurt. It is getting worse lately. I need to be more careful about the kind of shoes I wear, I guess. Right now, they feel a little numb. I stood too much, between the wedding and the church service. The shoes felt comfortable, but I guess there was not enough support.
I have been spending a fair amount of time with a woman who is dying, and with her family. She is dying of a rare disease I hadn't really ever heard of before about a month ago. The disease has progressed so rapidly, it has shocked everyone.
I think about this woman I have known for twelve years: her intelligence, her passion for justice, for mercy, her love for music, her faith. She was the first woman to be president of our congregation. I thought I knew her pretty well, but I didn't know that she loved to knit. I didn't know that she liked to sing the harmony parts during the hymns. I knew that she played the bells, and that she was a strong advocate for woman leaders.
We're leaving for vacation on Monday. It's just 6 days. Not even quite a week. We're going to San Francisco, though. I keep humming songs about San Francisco.
I've been making lists and trying to get as much as possible done before vacation. Who needs to be visited? What needs to be planned? Who do I need to call?
And oh yes, what bills do I need to pay?
I'll also stop by the nursing home tomorrow to see my dad.
In a kind of weird way, I love what I'm doing right now, holding down the fort, running the show, whatever you want to call it, the only pastor around.
But, also, I'm tired. I'm not too proud to admit it.