Mirrors are us

We all know that renovations take longer than long. Our ladies, restroom has been under construction and reconstruction and renovation on a rotating basis since I started working there. It puts the passing of time in place.

You may have seen at some time a prehistoric timeline of the world? Take off the prehistoric and replace it with women's restroom and it's the same thing.

I'm not complaining. We've had toilets working ,mostly,all along, which is most important . There were very few times I had to go across the hall to the men's room in a hurry- and I have to say I am quite impressed with the ability of the human mind/body to adapt. After only 2 or 3 emergency runs to the men's room, with a guard standing watch for me outside, I successfully learned how to pee standing up. Maybe women need those urinal things too. It's a little tricky, but doable. Of course I'm just teasing. ....probably.

So the women's room has been undone, redone, plastered, painted, prayed over, left to set a while and re-sinked. It's been a thrill. With one exception. The mirrors.

From where I sit, in my church chick nest, I hear many comments from passers by in the hall. There are lots of frustrated fusses about the lack of mirrors in the restroom. The need for mirrors in the ladie's room is a real one and it points to the diffrences, well, some of them between men and women.

Men don't care if the have spinach stuck in their teeth. They rarely have bra straps that show, and very few men wear slips that creep down beneath their skirts. Men who wear lipstick typically go for the clear gloss, so they don't need a visual check. Men just don't have the same needs. and yet- where are the new mirrors in the newly redone restrooms? Why, the men's room of course. Perhaps I should change them out with posters that have smart sayings on them, like " You the man", or "Please check shoes for trailing toilet paper before exiting", or maybe even "XYZ- made you look!!" I don't know. I'm still thinking. I do know that the bloodpressure of the female restroom attendees has hit an all time high. So, I did what any self respecting Church Chick would do. i put on my cape and solved the problem myself. The response hasn't been addressed by the Board of TRustees yet, and my boss hasn't said," please remove", so I guess I'm not in trouble. well, not yet, anyway. In fact, I'd say the laughter gauge is running a little higher, and Ilike that song.

I "installed" two products of the finest quality. One, a lovely oval sheet of aluminum foil. Taped it to the wall myself, with a note above it saying "CAUTION, OBJECTS MAY APPEAR MORE DISTORTED THAN THEY ACTUALLY ARE" or something like that. and I was pleased to notice that the silver tray I "borrowed" fromthe kitchen sits nicely between the two sinks. It is titled," Mirror Mirror on the wall, who is the fairest?.....

Holiday distractions can keep our spirits in check sometimes, and when the new mirrors wear out their use, I'll bake cookies on the aluminum and serve them on the tray. How's that for multi-purpose?

Sending off friends

Funny the different kinds of friendships that are formed from the desk of the church secretary. Such a variety of relationships grow and flourish on many different levels, all have distinct places in my heart.

There are people I know only by their email addresses, and others who I can identify through voice recognition alone. Some are familiar faces that routinely pass by my office with a quick glance.... again and again and again. Particular people pop in to grab a piece of bubblegum, or maybe they are called to the stress eze nut mix or the anti-oxident mixage and on occassion the password protected mixage. People can be identified by their footsteps, or their walking pace, as well. Many folks I only know by heart, not name.

My Pastor boss can easily be identified by the jingle of his door when he throws it open to search me out. I think his mind explodes with sparkling spontaneous thoughts, when he cloisters himself behind that pastor parlor door- wild thoughts that send him flying across the hall sputtering tasks or questions my way. He is a very energetic and creative sort, this man. He leaves a trail of gossamer behind him when he passes through any place. It's a very good thing.

We have an ongoing chuckle between us that I can sit behind my desk for hours, days, months, without ever being called to his attention, but invariably, the moment my toes cross the threshold of my office, he will simultaneously be in great need of my office skills and will call my name with intention- "Church Chick!!" Once, i heard his cry while I was visiting the second floor restroom. I am in tune with his tone now that I've worked with him for a while. We've tested the pattern before and it runs true. I may be in the kitchen, the copy room, the mail room, my other boss's office, or hanging outside my office window in search of respite, and bingo- I am the name of the hour. It's an honor to be needed, of course. In truth, it is just what it is- another serendipitious pleasant aspect of my job. oh- I'm weaving off the track a bit.... .....


We have a lovely group of warm bodies who have been on this earth a long time, and for this reason- among others- we call them grand. This group meets weekly to share the joy of long-lived friendships and good food. They take turns cooking, and they often times have a speaker. Last week, a group of fancy dancers came and kicked around a while. Once a year, they participate in a bells lesson and the building is filled with notes and rhythm.

I've grown accustomed to their grand patter and wheeling around. On occassion, they will take field trips. I was surprised to find that I felt a great sense of empty-nestness when they took a springtime trip recently. The building grieved the missing presence of my favorite tinkerbell friends.

I love those folks. They are the world in one room. They have lived many lives in many places. One woman wears unique necklaces, she brought me her collection for show and tell one day. kalediscopes, one inch in size, and in perfect working order. How magic is that?

Several of these special friends also volunteer at the front desk, and so they have become work peers. Many are very involved in committee work or other missions within the church - but they are all gifts. Every one of them, and I miss them when they are gone.

I find myself shifting into parent mode when they travel. I boarded the bus last trip and reminded them to behave. How silly is that? Well, if you knew this crew, you'd say 'not silly at all.' I spoke to the bus driver and told him to drive with all the care he carried in his soul and to bring them back in all their many pieces and parts. I must have used my "mom" voice, because he answered with a solemn 'Yes, Ma'am". Maybe I'll add mom to my list of titles in this job. or maybe not.

Today is a field trip day. sighhhhh. I passed out mints to ensure a more enjoyable venue for conversation in close quarters between friends on the bus. I told them to "NOT distract the driver, either." and to come back safely, " I mean it now, SAFE-LEE".

I trust that they will return with many a story to tell at next week's luncheon, but today, the halls will wilt with emptiness.

Concentration warning.

When focusing on difficult concepts in job performance, such as trying to appease an interested church member by printing out a summary of all zip codes that attend church regularly, please take note that when focusing so much energy on trying to understand a task that appears to hold no particular value, you may lose some other grounded thinking and you may by complete accident make sundry errors.

Say for example, you discover that as neat as it is to identify attendees via their own personal zip code, you may also notice that the software is not summary friendly, and without your knowledge has taken upon itself to print 272 pages of a full-bodied list of member zips.

If, by unfortunate chance, you are at that exact moment also answering the phone at work, and if, by another unfortunate chance, you happen to be listening to a blind voice speaking broken English, then you may make further mistakes in your multi-tasking.

If , while you are on the phone trying to decipher the question on the other end of the line, you realize that your printer is going AWOL, then, in your panic, you may mistake the printer settings option of 'cancel job' with 'delete printer'. If this happens, please fight the urge to scream, " OH MY GOD. I'VE DELETED MY FREAKING PRINTER. I'VE SENT IT INTO CYBERSPACE and OUR TECH MAGICIAN IS OUT OF THE BUILDING.

You can't be sure that the person on the other end of the phone isn't bilingual, and you really don't want to take the chance of insulting the poor soul who is simply calling to ask for some help or directions.

On the other hand, if the person calling is in reality the same person who has called you every day for the last week asking for the same "assistance" such as fuel for his heater, then the damage is minimal and the time it took you to vent may also clear your head enough to realize that it is a rare occasion for someone to use a heater when it is 102 degrees outside, and maybe the caller is not being truthful in his requests.

See? There's a happy side to this- isn't there? Maybe I should read this again and see if I can find it... wait.. oh, yeah. the happy ending is that the Tech magician Did, in fact return and rescue my precious 6L from cyberspace, and the caller did finally reveal himself as the same guy who had called me every day for the last several days. The accent was a last attempt to get some spending money for the fair. Well, he fessed up, and took the time to tell me that I really shouldn't use such flair and language on the phone and he'll just have to seek help elsewhere, like maybe the Baptist church down the street.

Whatever....

Phonetic Trials never ending

It’s almost been a year now. A whole year since I’ve been playing Church Chick at the OK Corral. The instances of my true self slipping through my guise of admin asst are fewer and less often. Usually, its when I’ve had an almost full breath of confidence that something pops up, like today.

If you’ve read my chronicles from the start then you know of my dilemma and angst-ridden experiences with our phone system. Learning curve is pretty big. HUGE, larger than large.
Today I was talking to the financial secretary and we realized that tomorrow I will be here alone. I decided to call one of the other staffers to see if she was coming in and I used the intercom. I pressed her extension button on my phone and spoke. No answer.
“ Hey, I know you are up there, are you working tomorrow?”
no answer.
“ Don’t ignore me, I know you can hear me, now come on. Answer…..”
no answer but-
The Senior Pastor’s door flew open and he literally slid down the hall and caught himself on the doorframe to my office. He spoke to me.
“ I just thought you’d like to know that you aren’t talking to Annie, you are talking to me.”
He smiled and slid away, closing his door with a jingle.

Horrified, I called my oldest daughter. There’s comfort in sharing your horrification with a family member who can be horrified with you. Usually it works the other way around, daughter seeking out Mother, but since I’ve entered the grown up work world, the split is pretty evenly divided. “Mom! I can’t believe you did that! Was he mad?”
Was he mad? I thought to myself.. ruminated… considered…. Processed…pasteurized.. and then a happy thought came to my awareness. I shared it with my concerned daughter.

“Oh! You know what? He had a funny smile on his face, well, he had an unusual expression on his face when he slid over and I bet he was thinking, … "This kind of phonetic frenzy hasn’t happened in a while. Maybe that’s progress….”

My daughter sat in silence, then I heard her breathe again. “ Well, usually it works the other way around, mom. I mean like You notice things running smoothly, and comment on THAT. Instead of putting out a fire and realizing you are using fewer extinguishers than you used to. But if that works for you, I’ll be happy for you, and congratulate your improvements.” “Come to think of it, I haven’t heard you mention as many intercom-calamities of late. Gosh, I think that IS improvement.”

We hung up and I walked out into the hallway, just in time to see the Pastor’s door open. Two lovely young people came out, arm in arm. The young couple walked cautiously, their eyes shifting slightly from side to side. “Hi!” I offered as they passed by. I noticed a short pause in their stride which I took later to mean they recognized my voice as being the one who was screaming at them through the Pastor’s phone speaker just minutes earlier.

They scootched a little closer and walked in tandem out the front door of the church never looking back.
I turned to go back into my office .The kind and forgiving Pastor stood at my door holding thumbs up and smiling. He is such a supportive boss. It amazes me. After the positive reinforcement, he squeezed his eyes together in pursed lip silent prayer. He then tilted his head and said to the chilled hallway air, “ They MIGHT still join . Yeah. They might.”

Improvement takes many forms, I guess. I hope they don’t take my phone privileges away. I can do even better, I’m sure of it.

Church Chick

church lady office hats

It’s not only the church lady job that wears many hats, friends. The church chick’s office also serves many purposes.

Sometimes, as general conversation is birthed in the hallway, more concentrated issues arise from that and in those instances, the church chick’s nest acts as a funnel for those deeper continuations of hallway discussions.

There is something about crossing the threshold into my office that effects voice volume, I’ve noticed. The walls in my office must subliminally attract lower tones. Really important chats demand whispers. Funny thing about whispers. They stick. Many times, I’ve noticed my own pastor’s voice remaining hushed throughout the day after he’s been in my office whisper/discussing some important something. It makes for quiet hallways, but still, it feels a little ghostly.

Another hat that the church office wears is that of EMS, or ER Emergency Room. I keep band aids handy, and as previously mentioned, there is a hard and fast rule regarding the use of those. No blood –no band aid rules. On the occasion that band aids are in order, it is vital for the church chick to maintain her composure, to switch into mom mode. This happened recently when a visitor mis-stepped from her car and missed the curb. The sidewalk, insulted fom going unnoticed by the human- proceeded to snack on the visitor’s elbows and face. She was rattled, scraped and scrunched. We helped her into the cozy chair in my office and sponged her off, bandaided her up. I tracked down the Pastor who was slammed that day with counseling sessions back to back. He graciously came in my office to be sure she was okay. He is just that kind of caring soul. My biggest concern was the fact that we were all wearing a little bit of her blood, and his starched white shirt looked as if it wanted to get in on that , too. Somehow , we managed to keep his shirt away from her scrapes, and after speaking a few calming words to her, I sent him back into his next session- a couple anxious to wed. I just think the sight of a crisp white Pastor is so much more comforting than a blood spattered version. There’s plenty of time to talk about crucifixion later, right?

Sometimes people come in just because they can. I like those times the best.

There are other times when the sole purpose of my space is to provide HCVs- High Caloric Value foods. That’s okay, too.

Venting works well, if you crack your window to allow said vents to exit the building without confronting any solid surfaces.

Once, even, my office doubled as a Motel 6. I’m out of that business now, though. No more sleepovers for wayward wanderers.

Of course, we’ve housed church mice, and birds- so I guess that qualifies my office as zoo potential

Visitors sit in my comfy round chair while they wait to see the Pastor. The chair has been around longer than I have, and it is deep and round and feels like a hug when you sit in it.

Lost and Found
I have a spot called Melanie’s pick up/drop off spot, and this is the central location that I put all misplaced items. One member wears a hat, he comes in with it, and invariably leaves it in random places around the church. I like to track it down and put it in my pick up drop off spot and see how long it takes him to find it. It’s become a game. Oh, the distractions we seek out in the course of a day, eh?

Excuses

The pastors I've come to know and respect are pretty incredible people. Authentic through and through, genuine to the core. Seekers of truth, the lot of them. If they can't do something, they tell you. If they can, they tell you that too. I have learned much from these people I work with and those I worship with as well. Knowing this.....

It was a dark and stormy day. The staff was inundated with tasks, challenging tasks. Mountains and mountains of sticky notes lay strewn along the main hallway. The mounds of paper pieces were connected with paths of spent staples. whew.The pressure was heavy, suffocating. Everybody had too much to do after returning from a convention the week before. Messages to return, letters to write, questions to answer....It all poured in, filled the building, and formed a stream that fed into the Pastor's office. The busy muck slid under his door, eeeeked in his windows, til there was absolutely no escape.

I went into his office to voice a cheery start to the day, and found him, frozen in front of his computer monitor, fingers experiencing major keyboard tachycardia. Random papers were possessed and floating about his head.. The Bible lay open on his desk, pages flipping faster than fast. He turned to me when I came in and I recognized the glazed look in his eyes. Call me Overwhelmed, the tearless pupils cried.
" Doing okay?"
" I'm overwhelmed. Being away is hard on the catch -up end of things.I have so many different things scheduled and now we have a big funeral I need to be working on, I need time to spend with the family,and my sermon isn't done yet..... lots of people to visit in the hospital, meetings to attend, and the painters are coming to paint my office today, too. I love my job, all of it, it is just an impossible matter of physically making it all fit together and today I am, well, you know. ....overwhelmed. Give me a few minutes to finish this and then we'll look at projects for the day, okay?" I looked over his desk and saw his To Do list. It was sweating-some of the small print was trying to bleed off the page.

"Sure, I'll give you a few." and I went into my office. I refilled the emergency stress jar of peanuts and chocolate that resides on my desk.

The phone rang, ER from a local hospital letting me know that a patient had just requested our minister be notified that she'd just been run over by a train-end of message. Did she say train?
What a quandry!! I didn't want to interrupt my boss, but even I knew this message was important.

I got up and gently knocked on his door. It trembled at my touch. I tiptoed in and stood over his desk. He was writing, frantically trying to complete something on the list. He never lost a swirl pen stroke. I waited. He wrote. I waited. He erased and wrote. Finally, I spoke.
" I wouldn't bother you, but someone just called and they've well,they've been run over by a train and wondered if you could come by......"I think that comment was what is commonly known as the "Last Straw".
Hearing my news, he stopped his scribbling. Without looking up, he held out his hand and I gently placed the message into his damp palm. he began mumbling to himself, then he looked at me with the genuine concern a parent gives a child in need.

" I don't know this member." He reviewed my ink scratchings again. "Train?"
" I don't recognize the name either, they aren't in our database, I think they have the wrong church, maybe. I've got a call into another church to see if maybe its them."

"Oh. Gosh.. even at that....they got hit by a train. Geesh, I should go see them."
I sat down and looked him in the eye. I pointed two fingers at him, then ping ponged them back and forth to my eyes then his, mine then his. Look look look. Look at me, think....What can you change to take just a little bit off of your schedule for today? Isn't there anything?"
He looked at his calendar intently.

"Well, I have a meeting with some prospective members. I will just have to cancel that"
Before I had a chance to say, 'wait a minute , give yourself a minute', he had dialed the phone and reached the voicemail of said prospects.

" I am terribly sorry to have to cancel, I want to meet with you and spend some time with you, but I've been away on business, and now that I'm back, I've got a lot of catch up going on,we've had an unexpected death in the congregation and a big funeral to plan, and i've just found out someone has been run over by a train, so if you don't mind, could you call me back with some optional times?
He hung up, slightly relieved, greatly guiltridden and when he looked to me, his personal support- admin support, all I could give him was uncontrollable laughter. I honestly thought I would need to go home and change if he did not stop delivering excuses into the phone.
"What is funny? "
I said," I was just thinking how would I feel if I got your message? Not only have you been out of town, but the funeral- BIG funeral and the icing on the cake- hit. by. a. train??? I think I might be inclined to call you back and just say, 'If you didn't want to talk to us, why not just say that?' It sounds so impossible. I just think it is comedic. "
The tension broken, we both laughed out loud. On this day, truth was so over the top - Fiction didn't have a chance.
The happy ending is that the people did reschedule and as far as I can tell, things went well. For those of you who keep a running list of excuses, take note.