Fourteen years ago, I was offered a new job, Missioner for Ministry Development. What's that? Sometimes I said, I consult with organizations undergoing paradigm shift. Other times I said, I do what Paul did. Depended on the audience.
The details don't matter. What does matter is that I got up every single morning rejoicing at what I felt privileged to do that day. I considered it the job I was born to do.
Well, yes and no. It combined my burning passion for advocacy, my deep appreciation of small congregations, and my abiding love for the highways and byways of Iowa, Beautiful Land, as the native inhabitants called it.
On the other hand, it gave me intense fourteen hour work days, conflict with long time friends, people across the state who piled their hopes, dreams and desperations on my back and the resistance of those who value certain aspects of an institution that others can no longer afford. When we mixed all that with second generation antidepressants -- Keep trying, the doctors and my therapist said -- my bipolar II went into hyperdrive. I was both madly productive and plain old mad. It was beautiful. It was ugly. It didn't last.
Ellen Frank says that people with bipolar need to deal with grief for the lost healthy self. It's one of the interpersonal issues that sabotage our adherence to the regimen required to maintain recovery.
The details don't matter. What does matter is that I got up every single morning rejoicing at what I felt privileged to do that day. I considered it the job I was born to do.
Well, yes and no. It combined my burning passion for advocacy, my deep appreciation of small congregations, and my abiding love for the highways and byways of Iowa, Beautiful Land, as the native inhabitants called it.
On the other hand, it gave me intense fourteen hour work days, conflict with long time friends, people across the state who piled their hopes, dreams and desperations on my back and the resistance of those who value certain aspects of an institution that others can no longer afford. When we mixed all that with second generation antidepressants -- Keep trying, the doctors and my therapist said -- my bipolar II went into hyperdrive. I was both madly productive and plain old mad. It was beautiful. It was ugly. It didn't last.
