I've been retired for one month, and while additional time may bring different perspectives, I am thoroughly enjoying my new life! That tells me a couple of things:
1) It was time. Retired friends had always said to me, "You'll know when it's time." And I did!
2) The ease with which I've been able to let go has surprised me. A retired colleague attending my retirement party cautioned me that not only would the church family grieve, but I would especially grieve. "One day you're this important figure in all these people's lives, and the next day you wake up and you're a nobody," he said. It takes a while for a pastor to work though that transition. Well, maybe; but I haven't felt that way yet! (I certainly went through some grieving in the months following my announcement, and perhaps that anticipatory grief prepared the way for how I feel now.)
All this confirms for me a truth I have always felt deep in my soul — that despite my extended tenure there, I never thought of it as my church. People often called it, "your church," and I probably even called it, "my church" from time to time, but I never felt possessive; I never felt it really was mine. So, while I wish the best for "my people" that I've left behind, I do not in the least feel a need to keep my fingers in the pot, nor am I threatened by the inevitable changes that will come.
It's Jesus' church, and He'll take care of it and me just fine.
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