If I were a man

I was sitting at the pool while my kids played today, thinking to myself,
"if I were a man..."

If I were a man maybe I wouldn't struggle with this feeling of "I SHOULD be grateful."

If I were a man, no one would be surprised that I am searching for a call, and would, in fact, be asking me multiple times how it was going.

If I were a man, women wouldn't have pulled me aside as soon as I said I was taking some time off and said to me, "You'll never regret it!" as if it were something I should have been doing all along. (I do regret it, sometimes.)

If I were a man, my simultaneous calls to my children and my church would not be in question.

If I were a man, my restlessness at being at home, at being at small people's beck and call all day long, would be perfectly normal. Of COURSE he gets bored...he's a pastor!

If I were a man, perhaps I would not question my own call as much as I do.

If I were a man, I would be allowed to be sad for my church that died under my care, and not told it was all for the best because then I got to be home.

There are many reasons I'm glad I'm not a man, but this bitter post has been simmering for a while, and now it's written down, and it's out there. And I'm glad.