Zen and the Short Pencil, Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE: WELCOME TO RETIREMENT

“This is Not What I Had in Mind”

I came to Arkansas in 1990 after finishing seminary and having been ordained in the tradition that I grew up in. I served 31 years in full-time pastoral ministry, 29 of those years as a United Methodist.

Over the years in pastoral ministry, I became known as a “fixer” (I prefer the term “healer,” which is what the INFP personality type is often referred to in Myers-Briggs nomenclature) and was sometimes sent to congregations that had experienced disruption or distress. Some of the churches I was sent to were churches where others didn’t want to go because of the church’s history or reputation. But I was committed to go where I was sent. That is the promise we make when we are ordained as elders in the UMC. When Philip the Apostle went to Samaria, he went where nobody else wanted to go (Acts 8) and look how that turned out!

I am told that in one cabinet meeting where they were deliberating about whom to send to a particular church, one cabinet member spoke up and said, “Bill Buchanan hunts bears with a bow and arrow. Let’s send him!”

I have had the privilege of serving with saints and sinners in churches large and small, city and country, and in-between. Upon leaving, I have always tried to leave behind a well-functioning, as-healthy-as-possible church for the next pastor to serve so that he or she would not have to “reinvent the wheel” administratively in order to lead the church. It was always my goal to leave each church better off than I found it, and to make a contribution to the community as well.

Sometime in 2020 I began to pray about retirement. Our conference year begins July 1, and July 1 of 2021 would be right after my 67th birthday. Age 67 is the “sweet spot” from an actuarial standpoint in terms of return on Social Security funds and a few other things. The church I was serving was on an even keel administratively, and we had a fresh new mission plan which unfortunately had to be temporarily suspended due to the pandemic. By early summer we had weathered the worst part of the pandemic through teamwork of staff and church leaders, loving cooperation of the congregation, and without a lot of silly tantrums or financial hardship. The time was right for me to retire.

So, In the spring of 2021 I announced from the pulpit that I would be retiring from parish ministry as of July 1, 2021, after 29 years of service in the United Methodist Church and 31 years in ministry total. I also posted my announcement on Facebook:

“Thirty-one years ago, in March of 1990, I finished my first round of seminary and moved to Arkansas responding to a call to pastoral ministry. A couple of years later, I accepted my first appointment in the North Arkansas Conference of the United Methodist Church. Now after 29 years of serving in United Methodist churches in Arkansas, it’s time for me to share that I will be retiring from parish ministry as of July 1, 2021.

 

What an honor and a joy it has been to companion with so many people in some of the most profound and meaningful times of your lives - birth, death, marriage, baptism, spiritual formation, mission and ministry, great adventures, triumph and tragedy. Thank you to the many friends, families and congregations all across Arkansas who have invited me into your lives, trusted me, believed in me, encouraged me, walked the journey with me and helped me grow in ministry. 

 

Be in prayer for the Bishop and Cabinet as they meet in the coming weeks to discern who will come to serve among the good people at West Memphis First UMC.  Also, keep in touch - as I will continue to be in ministry in new ways.

 

Grace and peace,

Bill B.”

 Oh my goodness the response both in person and on social media was humbling, sincere, and touching. I was in tears greeting my parishioners in person and reading the comments online.  That was an extraordinarily special day.

This began four months of intense planning and packing. Unlike all those earlier church-to-church moves through the years, this one involved some additional steps like applying for Social Security, insurance and pension. A lot of things which I would no longer need had to be gotten rid of. Even with that, there was a lot of packing, and all that stuff had to be handled.

It all went pretty well until I began to notice more than the usual fatigue about two weeks before my move. I began to run a low-grade fever and found myself a little short of breath while moving stuff or taking my dog on our daily walk. I knew these were not Covid symptoms, so I just thought I was pushing too hard and stressing out a little. I just took some cold meds and got some rest. Tomorrow would be a better day, I said.

I made it through my last two Sundays and was blessed to see friends from miles away who came to attend my last Sunday. I was further blessed by a wonderful retirement dinner the next night (Monday). On Tuesday morning, June 29, I loaded up the dog and drove to Conway. The next morning, I was flat on my back in the hospital.

That morning I woke up desperately short of breath and I knew something was seriously wrong. Being newly back in town, I reached out to a couple of local friends for advice on local urgent care clinics. One friend, who is a nurse and works at the local hospital, told me that with these symptoms I should go straight to the emergency room rather than an urgent care clinic. There they would be able to take the necessary x-rays, CT scans, and other tests. This was a good call.

In a few minutes another friend came and gave me a ride to the emergency room where they took my vital signs and immediately put me on 4 liters of oxygen (my pulse-ox was 76 – stroke territory). Before the day was over, they had taken x-rays and an echocardiogram and admitted me. The initial x-ray indicated pneumonia and also enlargement of the heart suggesting congestive heart failure, so they put me on an array of antibiotics and Lasix for the first day. 

The next day, July 1, a CT scan was run and the doctor said it suggested interstitial lung disease. These are diseases that are characterized by irreversible thickening of the tissues in the alveoli that facilitate the exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide in the blood. A quick Google search indicates an average life expectancy of 3 to 5 years. That is NOT what I wanted to hear on my first day of retirement.

Then a pulmonary doctor was called in and he said he thought it might be idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis but was not 100% sure. After 8 days in the hospital, they sent me home to figure out how to live with my new reality.

I knew I needed support in prayer and practical help but was too shocked and too much of an introvert to share much publicly, at least until I knew more about what I was dealing with.

On Friday, August 6, I sent the following memo to my family and about ten closest friends:

To begin with, please forgive me for the rather long message. I am sending this to you because you are one of the few people who know of my current illness and have been helping and praying. You are my team. Mercifully, this will not be a “group text” because I am aware that no one has time for that!

 

Today is the 30th day since I was discharged after 8 days in the hospital with acute respiratory distress syndrome. Two weeks after discharge I went for a pulmonary function test and follow-up with pulmonologist Dr. Lee. After that you might have received this report from me, saying Dr. Lee thought I sounded better (my function was 30% - had been 20% in the hospital) and through the bronchoscopy and biopsy he was not able to conclusively verify the preliminary diagnosis of idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis even though “all the signs point to it.”

 

The report from the scan said it might be ipf but it also said to watch for “Superimposed viral infection, autoimmune disease, toxic exposure.” Kind of like a Covid overreaction but not Covid.

 

This little opening, along with some other signs, gave me hope (not denial) and I am not giving up. Dr. Lee said it helps that I have always been active and in pretty decent shape other than this. He encouraged me to keep walking the dog and watching my diet. He wants me to come for another pulmonary function test and scan on September 20th and see him again September 23rd to evaluate where we are at that point. Prayers requested.

 

So until then I’m at home with oxygen 24/7 with a tube that follows me all over the house (and thankful for it) and a portable tank that enables me to go out and take Dixie my dog for a walk which we both really enjoy. I can drive, but I’m getting out on a limited basis. The prednisone has suppressed my immune system so I’m not going near groups of people in close quarters.

 

I’m engaging in an array of physical exercises, breathing exercises, and of course spiritual practices which I will be glad to share with you if you are interested. I’m in the process of writing a few essays on these.

 

Everyone who has seen me recently has said that I look better (color better, stronger) than just a week or so ago.

 

I’ve kept this mostly quiet from my most recent former church for a reason. I did all I could to encourage them to welcome their new pastor, which they have done. They gave me a sweet send-off with lots of cards, gifts and good wishes and we had good closure for my ministry there. I do not want them to now be distracted by me, but I want the new pastor to succeed. This may be right or wrong but it’s the way I feel about that.

 

Again, I apologize for this being so long but I’m fighting for my life here and it means a lot for you to be on the short list of my team. Thanks for your love and support.

When I announced my retirement back in the spring, I told the congregation that I would not quit on them early and just coast the last couple of months, but that I wanted to “leave it all on the field.” How could I have known how prophetic those words would be? After 31 years and more than 1,600 Sundays, God gave me all the strength I needed all the way to my last Sunday.  I literally could not have preached another Sunday. That was a God Thing if there ever was one!

So, this is what the first month of my journey was like. I began to take stock of all the spiritual, mental, and emotional resources that I had available to take into this battle.  I will share more about that in the next installment.