27. Twenty Nineteen (Part 6)

After my evaluation, I felt like I couldn’t breathe when I left the pastor’s office. I was trying to be optimistic about my evaluation score. Maybe there was some truth to the things the pastor said. Of course, there was always room for improvement, but a 3.65 to me felt like a C, and I had always worked to be an A student. I tried to think of one thing I could’ve done differently to get my score higher, and I could not come up with anything.

I was defeated in a way that I had never been before. I felt like I had given my life to this church like I had done everything and more that was asked of me and yet it wasn’t enough.

My husband answered the phone immediately when I called him. He knew how nervous I was when I left that morning, so, the first thing he asked was how the evaluation went.

When I told him my score, he was baffled… his first question was, “where’s the other 1.5 percent that you deserve.” When I explained that the pastor told me it was a good score, I expected that my husband would agree, but instead, he said, “You need to go back in there and ask him what in the world more he expects you to do .” I broke down then and there. I thought I was overreacting, but my husband saw it too.

I wasn’t crazy. This wasn’t fair.

There was no way I could go back and talk to the pastor in my emotional state, and I didn’t have time to explain all the evaluation details to my husband; I had work to do.

I was leaving the following day for camp; I had things to wrap up before I left, supplies to purchase before going home, and lists to make for my intern. I kept to myself that day. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, I just wanted to get home as quickly as I could. I was in my office working to get things done with tears streaming down my face…. And it was at that moment that my intern walked in. I had known this girl for ten years; she was friends with my kids, and spent time with my family at my house; she was very much like one of my children; I loved her like my own. She knew me well and could immediately see that I wasn’t okay. Of course, I couldn’t talk to her about what had happened, so when she asked me what was wrong, I could only shake my head and cry. She hugged me and left for the day. She and I were the last two to leave the church.

I waited for my intern to drive away. When she was gone, I drove to the yard where the black rubber mats were lying in the mud, the rubber mats that the pastor had driven by every day, the ones he got out, the rubber mats that were too heavy for me to move on my own, the ones that just a few hours earlier had lowered my evaluation score…. Through gritted teeth and tears, I painfully picked up the corner of one of the mats; I struggled to pull it through the mud; it was all I could do to move it; I slowly pulled it across the yard, found an empty outdoor closet and did my best to put it inside. Then, I walked back to the yard, repeated the process, and put the other into the closet. I then struggled to close the door on the closet, the bottom of the mat was sticking out from underneath the door, and I prayed that no one would notice. I was physically spent when it was done, but it was done.

In my mind, at that moment, there wasn’t one thing I could do to change my evaluation. But, I could move the rubber mats. As crazy as it sounds, it was the only thing I could control. So, even though it was the worst thing I could possibly do for my body, it seemed a small sacrifice to make to gain some control over my situation.

My back was hurting, and my legs were covered in mud, but it was done; I wouldn’t be docked another day. I got in my car and called my husband. We talked while I drove to Walmart to get the supplies for camp, but I absolutely couldn’t gather myself. I was shaking, crying, and sobbing uncontrollably. I was a mess. I sat in my car in the Walmart parking lot for a very long time, talking to my husband, trying to make sense of things. I couldn’t pull myself together. There was no way I could go inside.

Finally, my husband helped me calm down enough to drive home.

When I walked in the door of my house, I fell apart again. I would just like to park right here for a moment and remember how good my husband was to me during this. He’s a good man; I love him more than words can say. He held me when I needed to be held, consoled me, loved me, and comforted me. It was all I could do to keep him from calling the pastor. My husband was more than angry at what the pastor had done to me. He also felt that I had been set up, that the evaluation wasn’t fair in any way, shape, or form. I had to beg him to let me handle it on my own. I didn’t want to look weak.

What was supposed to be a fun, exciting family night of camp preparation instead turned into a long night of packing, crying, and not sleeping.

All of these emotions were over an evaluation. It seems so stupid now. I’m almost embarrassed to even admit how much it destroyed me. I have to remember how exhausted I was, how hard I was working, how much control the pastor had over me, how fragile I was, and how badly I wanted to succeed.

I put every ounce of energy I had into that ministry. I wanted kids to come to know Jesus, I wanted them to learn about His love for them, I wanted them to grow in their faith, I wanted to equip parents to teach their children, I wanted expectant mothers to feel loved, I wanted babies in the nursery to be lovingly cared for, I wanted the preschool children to be excited to hear Bible stories, I wanted 6th graders to learn about servant leadership, I wanted kids to go to church camp and have the time of their lives, all while learning about Jesus, I wanted kids to come to AWANA and memorize scripture, I wanted them to sing about Jesus in the Children’s Choir, I wanted kids in the community to come to VBS and hear about Jesus, I wanted kids to be baptized every Sunday… I wanted all these things and more, and I was doing everything I knew to do to make it happen.

I worked more than I was paid to work, I did more than I was paid to do… because for me, it wasn’t about the money… it was about all the things I listed above. So, to be working that hard, and find out it wasn’t enough, that I needed to do even more when I didn’t have any more to give… at that time, I couldn’t even put it into words; I just felt like I wasn’t enough and had failed. And so I cried, and sobbed, and cried and sobbed some more because that’s the only way I could respond to the defeat I was feeling.

I got up early the following day to head to camp, and I had to put my game face on. As staff members, we weren’t allowed to talk about our evaluations with people on the outside.

I was really struggling.

My good friends were at camp with me, and they could immediately tell that something was wrong.

I successfully made it through the day…barely.

That night I sat in my dorm room and emailed my counselor.

I recently found the email, and it was hard for me to read. These were my fresh, raw emotions, copied just as I found them in my email, captured in time…

I’m aware that the following email includes terrible grammar and punctuation. It was typed out on my phone through tears. Only my counselor would see it, and he didn’t care about those things. I’ve left it in its original form.

The email’s subject line was “I Think I Want to Quit My Job.”

"I think I want to quit my job"… that's the only thing going through my head the last two days.
Yesterday was my evaluation at church. Last October we set goals to meet this year. October, we set them in October and my evaluation was yesterday, June 24th. I scored a 3.65 out of 5. That totally sucks. We are rated 1-5 on each goal. 1 didn't even try, 5 excellent, 3 as expected. I handled things in **** '*office just fine. Even convinced myself that was a good score. And then I sat on it for a while. And I haven't quit beating myself up since then. I got some 2's. And I don't feel like I deserved them. I could take it if I thought I did. I got a 2 for church attendance because I don't always go on Sunday nights. I got a 2 on teacher training because I didn't do an actual meeting but instead sent letters once and then met with them individually once. I got a low score on giving the kids opportunities to share their faith with the community and I had that planned for see you at the pole in September and it hasn't been September since we set the goals. I got a 4 instead of a 5 for only having 9 kids baptized instead of 10, and we haven't even had VBS or gone to camp yet. And the one that was hardest to take was using the church facilities well. I got docked for leaving some stuff out. Things that I needed help putting up, things that weren't even mentioned to me, things that **** could've told me or even just picked up himself. I felt so set up. And I got docked for not promoting staff unity… he told me to blow things up! 🤷🏼‍♀️.
So, 3.65, 3.65, 3.65…. failure. Just plain failure. A big ol C. Just mediocre at best, and I work my ass off.
I'm just so done. Over it. Ready to quit.
Now here I sit on my bunk bed at Super Summer, crying my eyes out. Praying I can clean my face before someone asks me what is wrong because I can't talk about it.
How are we supposed to meet year-long goals in 8 months? How does this build up a staff? I feel so defeated. I feel underpaid, overworked, and unappreciated by my boss.
I texted him last night, and this is what I said to him…

Okay. The longer I sit on my number, the more I feel like it's below how I should be performing. I'm not sure how I can work any harder, or how to get it higher. I thought I remembered it being higher last year and I feel like I've done more this year. I'm not trying to be petty, but numbers really get to me. They always have.
I know you said I could debate some of the points. I'm not good at doing that on the spot but the longer I've had to think about it, the more upset I am. I should probably talk it out with you.
You're going to think I'm absolutely crazy, but I was always an A student and all I can see at this moment is a big glaring C. I'm beating myself up pretty bad.

He said…
Okay. Well stop. You got the highest grade in the office. I definitely was more strict. So don't compare to last yr. And you know I know how hard you work and I'm happy with what you're doing. But we all can do much better…right. I thought the suggestions I gave were in line with what we've talked about before. Sry you're stressing but don't bc it's all good.

If you want to revisit it after camp, we can.

I said…
I don't compare myself with anyone in the office. Only myself. Yes, we can always do better, and your suggestions were good but sometimes I feel like I'm maxed out and I don't know how to add more. That's why I'm stressing because I don't know how to bring my score up and that makes someone feel defeated. Especially when you are a perfectionist like me.
Maybe I'm overthinking things, but again, I'm a numbers kind of person. I can't help it.
I just needed to get it off my chest so I can sleep tonight.

Now here I sit 24 hours later not having been able to tell him my debating points. He thinks it's all good. But it's not.

I'm not accustomed to working in a work environment other than home. Maybe this is just normal and I'm not used to it.

Maybe I'm hormonal and tired.

But all of that said, I'm torn up about this. Broken and upset and can't pull it together.
I feel like he needed to give bad evaluations to the other two and had to find things to nit pick about to make it seem fair. And it isn't fair.

Where is some leniency on something like maybe the reason I didn't get a "teacher training" done properly is because I created a whole new Wednesday program for the summers a program I didn't want to do, didn't have time to do but one he wanted.
Where is I don't know how you get what you do done part time?
I'm just over it. I want to be happy. I want to be rested.
Who does evaluations during the busiest time of the year?

What do I do?

Whitney

My counselor responded the next morning, “call me when you can talk.”

He was stunned. He knew I was tired, but he also knew that I loved my job, and to see an email come through with the subject of “I think I want to quit my job” startled him. I’ll write about that conversation in my next post.

I will end with this…

What seemed like such a special moment with friends that night at camp, looking back now was probably one of the biggest mistakes I made…

I was quietly sniffling in my bunk bed.

I couldn’t hide my hurt.

I really needed some privacy, but there was none to be had.

I really needed my husband, but he was chaperoning the boys.

I was in the same dorm room as one of my best friends, the one who applied for the secretary position, and she could see right through me. I kept telling her I couldn’t talk about staff things with non-staff people. She said it was safe to talk to her. I believed her.

She called our other friend who was staying in the room across the hall into our room, we closed the door and I began to pour my heart out to them. They both agreed that my evaluation wasn’t fair. They agreed that I couldn’t work any harder. They understood why I was so upset. They were angry that the pastor would do this to me. They wanted to help me.

They hugged me and cried with me, and it felt good to have friends like that.

Until Next Time,

Whitney