When my boss suggested we just delete everything on our church calendar, my heart dropped.
I am a terminal digital packrat and not an organized one. But the one thing that keeps things from falling off the rails is my calendar. I spent hours each year meticulously arranging all my work events in advance, so they flow logically for families and don’t compete with other initiatives in my church.
Calendaring also allows me to carve out space for important family events: my brother-in-law’s annual play, our beach vacation, Sabbath days-of-nothing, and well, sleep. We consult the combined work, home, spouse, family calendar before we make any other plans; it’s THAT accurate, and THAT full.
But now, in the days of COVID-19, the calendar by which I order my days has become irrelevant.
My pastor is right. This situation is an opportunity to clear our calendars and to start fresh. I need to let go of my illusion of meticulous control and recognize that God is Lord of all time, not me.
But my pastor can’t make me delete everything on my calendar, and I won’t. Here’s why:
Every time I get a calendar notification for an event that won’t be happening as planned, it is a reminder to practice detachment. All things pass away, and they don’t belong to me just because I think I can control when and how they happen.
Each notification is a prompt to pray for those people I would have been with for that event – teens, families, volunteers, colleagues, my own family, and friends, even strangers.
My calendar is also a sort of historical record, which reminds me how far I have come and how far I still have to go. Looking back over the years, I see my development (as a youth minister, a spouse, a parent, a family member, a friend) very clearly. I remember failures and successes, too. Like the daily Examen prayer of St. Ignatius of Loyola, past calendars can help us to reflect and to see the arc of our journey more objectively.
My past calendar also serves as a framework for dreaming and planning for the future. There is a reason that most church calendars have “anchor points” in the secular calendar year. It just makes sense to celebrate the coming of the Light through the Incarnation when we need it most (the darkest days of the year) and to revel in the new life of Easter in the springtime. You may discover other natural rhythms which make sense to preserve in your ministry and personal calendars, even in these unusual times.
How are you managing your calendar now that even long-term planning is uncertain?
Are you clear-cutting the year to start fresh, or are you adapting as you go?
What insights is God revealing to you lately about your relationship to the gift of time?