For those of you who are old enough to remember, you'll recognize my title as a line from a Carpenter's song, "Rainy Days and Mondays." It happens to be Monday, and it's raining, and after this weekend I'm feeling kind of old.
We had a church leadership retreat this weekend and one of the topics was passing the torch, so to speak, to the next generation. We had a panel of 20- and 30-somethings talk about what appeals to them, how they approach social networking, their dreams for the future of the church, and how we "seasoned" leaders can help them move into positions of leadership. It was both encouraging and depressing.
It was encouraging because it is so, so good to see young people being passionate about the church and taking ownership of the church. They're not content to let the church wallow in its laurels; they want the church to stay fresh and relevant. They're impatient in their passion and they're vocal about what they want, even a little intimidating. They were very respectful of us older folks but it still felt a little bit like having our heels nipped. I'm all in favor of ceding ownership to the next generation, but I'm not done with it yet!
It was depressing to realize that I may already have peaked and now I'm considered someone who is older- filled with wisdom for sure, but expected to be quiet and let younger heads take over. I don't know when I peaked but I know that I apparently missed it.
I remember being a teenager and college student and looking forward to the time when I was an adult and respected for my "adultness." I learned quickly after college that in the working world, a 20-something is very much a newbie and not given much respect or responsibility. In my thirties I was a stay-at-home mom, raising children and pouring myself into them, while the business world passed me by. When I got back into the work force I was almost 40 years old and found myself marginalized because I had taken those 12 years off to raise my kids. And now that I've achieved some respect for my ability and longevity, I'm having to pass the baton. I know that it is the natural order of things, but that doesn't make it any easier to swallow.
I watched the panel of five passionate, open 20-somethings and remembered how it felt to be so on fire, so passionate, so ready to jump in and get to work, but having no power and no path to action because my age was considered a detriment. I found a great outlet for my passion for God and leadership as a leader in Community Bible Study for 10 years, but had to quit that to return to work. I returned to nursing to find a different world and one in which my hiatus branded me as somewhat of a nursing has-been. And after 9 years in that world, I'm now working in health care information in a company where at least half of the employees are under 30. I feel like I passed my peak without ever knowing it!
Where was it? Was it in my 30s, when I was raising my kids and working in Community Bible Study? In my 40s, when I was a nursing leader? Certainly not now with respect to the world I work in. And looking back at my work with the church- I have been a leader in music ministries and now with my work on the Governing Board- I feel as if I'm being pushed out of music because I can't learn music by ear as quickly as I once could and I'm no one "special" anymore.
My pastor said yesterday in church that we achieve our sense of sufficiency and worth only as part of the "oneness" of the body of Christ. Thank goodness for that relationship that doesn't marginalize me because of age or experience (or lack thereof). I'm glad to find there's a place where I don't have to "pass a baton" and won't ever pass my peak.
