In the spring of 2013, I attended a conference at Columbia Seminary on resilience. The timing was providential for me. I had decided to retire as the pastor of a small suburban church the spring of 2015. I knew that I was not ready to stop doing ministry, but I knew it was time to stop being the pastor of that church. One could say, I had discerned that my “call” there was ending.

After many discussions about retirement with my clergy colleagues, my family, and particularly my wife, I decided that interim ministry was the next right thing for me. That’s when the resilience conference happened. That’s when I learned there was more to resilience than I first thought. If I thought about it at all, I had thought of resilience as bouncing back from an injury. When I raked leaves in the fall, then discovered sore muscles that I had not used in a while, the recovery, getting over the soreness, was resilience. After 40, I discovered that I didn’t bounce back as quickly as I used to. Every decade after 40, the recovery took longer.

Moving toward official retirement, but not ready to stop doing ministry, I changed the way I thought about resilience. I added more elements of my life to my need for resiliency. No longer was I thinking only about recovery of sore muscles. Now I was thinking about brain power and my spirit/soul. It didn’t take very long until I added my need for friends to the list. As I got older, more friends died. If I didn’t replace them with new friends, the result would be obvious.

Meeting new people was easy when I started doing interim ministry. The first few months at each new church were overwhelming, and I quickly realized that I was not as adept at learning new names as I once was. But I knew that would take care of itself. I had changed jobs enough times to be confident that I could learn new names. I was also confident that I could learn my way around a new building. That was particularly true when I began work at Kirkwood. I have worked in and visited a great many hospitals, some that have been added onto so many times that navigating them is like figuring out a maze.

In the big scheme of life, finding resilience in those physical things is easy. I also learned that keeping my brain resilient was a matter of using it. I keep reading. I enjoy lively conversations and traveling to new places. Of course, grandchildren are a great incentive to stay mentally sharp. But what about my soul? How do I maintain a resilient soul?

I think modern medicine has given us the impression that there are instant cures to our problems. Of course, I don’t know any medical doctors who claim that; maybe that idea has grown from advertising. There is no quick trick to a healthy, resilient soul. For me, soul maintenance is not only about the discipline of my prayer life. The other important ingredient that nourishes my soul comes from others. Those lively conversations; the kind words; the comment, “I’m praying for you.” All of those things and more nourish my soul. I also have found that remembering good theology helps. Remembering that God’s grace is sufficient. Remembering that God uses us to be the “Good News” to each other. At the end of the day, I remember to be thankful.

In Traveling Mercies, her first memoir about faith, Author Anne Lamott asserted, “Here are the two best prayers I know: ‘Help me, help me, help me,’ and ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’ ” Over the years, her prayer has evolved. It now contains three pieces. “Help. Help. Help. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Wow.”

“Gratitude begins in our hearts and then dovetails into behavior. It almost always makes you willing to be of service, which is where the joy resides,” Lamott writes. And wonder, “Wonder takes our breath away, and makes room for new breath.”

Breath in. Breath out. Inhale. Exhale. Yahweh. Resilience.

Peace,

Cary+