Plates

It's almost 11am. My final day at TCHD. I thought I'd be ecstatic.
But it's bittersweet. Actually, I'm almost sad.
Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled to start my new career with CAT on Monday, but the people here have a special place in my heart. They've been a great crew to work beside. People don't work in public health to get rich. They do it because they care. It's largely a thankless job. It's a dirty job. It's usually not fun. But they do it anyway. And the past year and a half in the trenches have taught me a lot. And once again, I have logged another chapter of crazy and sometimes unbelievable stories in the book of my professional life.
So long and farewell, my brave and intrepid colleagues! I will never forget you.



Life seems to have gone from 100mph to mach 4 in the past week. It's all become a blur with all the major life changes that have occurred.
Bill Alison gave a message a few weeks ago at Nwoods about priorities that hit me directly between the eyes. He likened the hectic lifestyles we lead to the art of spinning plates. You know, taking a dinner plate, placing it on top of a wooden rod, and spinning it. Then adding more and more plates on more and more poles, all the while running back and forth to keep each of them in balance.
Each plate represents something in our life that we invest our time, money, or energy in. We can have plates for God (hopefully), family, friends, baseball, food, cars, service, jobs, partying, yard work, etc. The more plates we spin, the less we can invest in each individual plate.
Even if all of your plates represent good and fruitful things, the results of exceeding your capability to mind each one can get messy. The plates begin to wobble, begin to fall. This is where it spoke to me.

I have burdened myself with so many plates that some are barely hanging in there. And while still straining to keep them all from succumbing to gravity, the other, more important relational plates have suffered as well. I haven't seen some of my best friends in nearly a year because I've committed myself to something else here nearly every weekend. Or if I do happen to have an opening on the calendar, all I want to do is shut out everything else and sleep for a day.
It's not good or healthy for the body or the soul.
In response, I have made the difficult decision to take some of those plates from their poles and put them back on the shelf. These plates have been a big part of my life and I will miss them. But I know they will be better served with someone else spinning them.

So for now I will focus on my top priorities: my relationships with Our Father, my friends & family, and the upcoming changes in my career and marital status. I feel more at ease already!

Are there any plates in your life you can put away?