Hanging on by your fingernails

A colleague and I were  talking about all things ‘clergy’ the other day.  We also spoke of that thing that we all can’t help talking about and would much rather jeer at it.

My colleague was stretched and struggling. There were a few extra bits on his plate which he found unpalatable and undesirable.

His energy was expended and he was hanging on, not by the tips of his fingers, but his fingernails. (His words not mine) I continue to worry and pray for him.

As I drove home I made a conscious choice to turn off my embarrassing choice of music in the 70's and do the inevitable post mortem on the conversation. Did I miss something? Was there something I should have said? And what on earth will I say to him next time I check in?

I found myself reflecting back on a few inky patches in my own life. I well recall the colossal amount of energy it took just to hang on by the flimsiest of grips. It was exhausting just getting through the day and there was never enough sleep. It took a long time for the situation to right itself and I sadly suspect that it will take some time for my colleague to arrive in a sunnier place.

It all changed for me when one day I said to myself “blow it”, or at least something like that and let go. And instead of landing with a sickening “THWACK” on the concrete with blood gushing out of my ears, there was an eerie sense of calm. I  realised that I had been supported and encouraged all along. Like the safety net for a trapeze artist.

Frantically holding by our finger nails is not necessarily the best use of our limited energy.