6 hours in the life of a pastor.

6am – get into the office, made some coffee, goofed off.

7am – Son wants breakfast, doesn’t want fast food, went with him for breakfast at a local diner.

8am – Talked to staff member who is dealing with a life changing illness in their family, I’m the first person outside of their family to know about it. Just tried to be there for them on the phone.

9am – A church member is having a last-chance surgery and wants to spend time in the sanctuary.  I don’t have much to say, so I play the guitar as they pray. I listen to them tell me their fears and hopes for the upcoming surgery.

11am – I visit a lady who was been a part of my church since I arrived. A few years ago, I buried her husband, a retired auto worker who in his younger years had pastored two churches. He used to buy me lunch on Fridays because he “knew how hard it was on pastors.” I never forgot his kindness. Now his wife is lying in a bed at home, unresponsive. She left the hospital a week earlier because she was tired of fighting. I had been by that week to have communion with her and her family in her kitchen, I brought my guitar, and we sang hymns, and we wept. I knew this time as I was coming over that she wasn’t awake, but I felt like she’d still be aware, so I brought my Bible, figured I’d read to her.

I read Psalm 91, “Blessed is the one who dwells in the shadow of the Almighty”, “He will give His angels orders concerning you, to protect you in all your ways”. I read Psalm 103, “Bless the Lord, oh my soul, and all that is within me and forget not His benefits”, “He forgives all your iniquity; he heals all your diseases”, “He has not dealt with us as our sins deserve.” I knew her family life had been complicated; I know we all need grace.

Then I read about heaven, in Revelation 21 and 22, about the New Jerusalem coming down out of the sky, about the gates of pearl, about the streets of gold, and before I had finished reading about them, she was walking on them. I left the room to inform her family, they called the hospice nurse, I called her best friend, who also goes to our church, so that she’d hear it from me.

1 pm – Had lunch with a ministry team in my church, they were struggling with a volunteer. The lady at the restaurant knew about our food pantry, so she sent over a free homemade dessert for me. I’m pre-diabetic.

2pm – Got my haircut. One of the stylists told me that she’d been going through some things, so a friend had pointed her to a preacher she listened to, said it helped her through some rough stuff and maybe could help this girl as well. It was a clip of me preaching in our livestream.

3pm – Stopped back in at the church to talk to a few who had gathered to remember our friend who had passed. I did some paperwork, listened to some slow songs, and went home.

Just 9 hours in the life of a pastor.