In Praise of Secretaries.
Maybe you have never had to be dependent on someone, either to keep your job or to do your job. Such has been my lot for most of my ministerial life. My excuse is that I had 76 addresses* before I was 12 years old, hence little education in any of the basics or much else except construction camp etiquette and facing down bullies.
I survived by marrying a blessing that was all God knew I needed, and among her many gifts is the ability to spell.
Having found that God’s grace is sufficient for our every need, here is my experience: At my first appointment as a newly minted United Methodist Minister, an ex-Navy nurse and wife of a retired Marine (whose back never touched the back of the pew), Ruth Mullins, came to the church office. My desk was a door on two stacks of cement blocks with a kitchen chair and not much else in the office.
She said she had come from the doctor’s office and was just told she would be blind in a year. She asked to be my secretary as she wanted to make the best use possible of her last year of sight. She could spell, and for three years she corrected the bulletin, editorials, sermons and church paper. I rejoice to say Ruth had her sight till the day she stepped or danced into eternity.
Not being remotely gifted with administrative skills, at my third church a retired lady who had been an office manager no doubt saw me in such need, that she offered to be my administrative assistant. She was Elsie Schlesinger, who kept the office in order (with a velvet covered iron hand) and her gift allowed me the freedom to be a state officer in a civic club, undertake a building program and begin writing a column for the Alhambra Post Advocate which led to my being syndicated with Copley News Service.
There was one church secretary I inherited that I quietly spoke of as “The Warden” but only behind her back. She insisted she was the church office secretary, not the pastor’s, so in desperation I hired out of my pocket a saint to do what needed to be done. Mildred Meyers did the column work and other secretarial duties that made possible what we did in ministry at a very troubled time in Monrovia, CA. Because of her I had the time to be the Crime Commissioner for the city, operate a safe house for kids in a former parsonage and run a youth program that included dances after football games. Our all-time best attendance was 998.
Now a word about Lois Hinkfus at Westlake United Methodist who typed my doctoral dissertation. I would go to the office at 4:00 A.M. and have on her desk by 6:00 a.m. the three or four paragraphs that she turned into clean, correct, academically acceptable copy done to the standard and rules dictated, which became the finished product I got the credit for but for which she received little credit or praise. This I knew, acknowledge and for which I am still grateful and thankful.
She was followed by another gifted, talented member of the Westlake church who being on the search committee for a church secretary, became so disgusted with the quality of applicants for the job, that she took the job herself out of frustration. How much the church and I owe to Jean Severance cannot be overstated as we went through growth of a hundred members a year, year after year, increasing program and vision. She carried a lot of that load, and deserves the credit. Besides, she kept my coffee cup full at all times. I have this addiction mostly under control now.
At the next church there was patient Pricilla Osborn, who for 14 years was the secretary who corrected the spelling, grammar, and answered the mail of my syndicated Copley column. But beyond her duties she stored my partially restored 1925 Studebaker in her garage. She made the growth of my column possible and answered every letter sent in response to it. The church grew to two Sunday services because of the freedom she gave me.
All of this started because of a story I just read where a man had a secretary for 12 years and was rather baffled that she was always so full of energy and got so much work done. When she finally quit he learned that his secretary was actually a set of twins, each working halftime and splitting the paycheck. They must have been really good and truly identical or he was a very poor observer. In any case, I want to give thanks for all dedicated overworked and underpaid secretaries, especially those who keep our churches running.
Post Script:
*Five of these were repeat addresses.
Maybe you have never had to be dependent on someone, either to keep your job or to do your job. Such has been my lot for most of my ministerial life. My excuse is that I had 76 addresses* before I was 12 years old, hence little education in any of the basics or much else except construction camp etiquette and facing down bullies.
I survived by marrying a blessing that was all God knew I needed, and among her many gifts is the ability to spell.
Having found that God’s grace is sufficient for our every need, here is my experience: At my first appointment as a newly minted United Methodist Minister, an ex-Navy nurse and wife of a retired Marine (whose back never touched the back of the pew), Ruth Mullins, came to the church office. My desk was a door on two stacks of cement blocks with a kitchen chair and not much else in the office.
She said she had come from the doctor’s office and was just told she would be blind in a year. She asked to be my secretary as she wanted to make the best use possible of her last year of sight. She could spell, and for three years she corrected the bulletin, editorials, sermons and church paper. I rejoice to say Ruth had her sight till the day she stepped or danced into eternity.
Not being remotely gifted with administrative skills, at my third church a retired lady who had been an office manager no doubt saw me in such need, that she offered to be my administrative assistant. She was Elsie Schlesinger, who kept the office in order (with a velvet covered iron hand) and her gift allowed me the freedom to be a state officer in a civic club, undertake a building program and begin writing a column for the Alhambra Post Advocate which led to my being syndicated with Copley News Service.
There was one church secretary I inherited that I quietly spoke of as “The Warden” but only behind her back. She insisted she was the church office secretary, not the pastor’s, so in desperation I hired out of my pocket a saint to do what needed to be done. Mildred Meyers did the column work and other secretarial duties that made possible what we did in ministry at a very troubled time in Monrovia, CA. Because of her I had the time to be the Crime Commissioner for the city, operate a safe house for kids in a former parsonage and run a youth program that included dances after football games. Our all-time best attendance was 998.
Now a word about Lois Hinkfus at Westlake United Methodist who typed my doctoral dissertation. I would go to the office at 4:00 A.M. and have on her desk by 6:00 a.m. the three or four paragraphs that she turned into clean, correct, academically acceptable copy done to the standard and rules dictated, which became the finished product I got the credit for but for which she received little credit or praise. This I knew, acknowledge and for which I am still grateful and thankful.
She was followed by another gifted, talented member of the Westlake church who being on the search committee for a church secretary, became so disgusted with the quality of applicants for the job, that she took the job herself out of frustration. How much the church and I owe to Jean Severance cannot be overstated as we went through growth of a hundred members a year, year after year, increasing program and vision. She carried a lot of that load, and deserves the credit. Besides, she kept my coffee cup full at all times. I have this addiction mostly under control now.
At the next church there was patient Pricilla Osborn, who for 14 years was the secretary who corrected the spelling, grammar, and answered the mail of my syndicated Copley column. But beyond her duties she stored my partially restored 1925 Studebaker in her garage. She made the growth of my column possible and answered every letter sent in response to it. The church grew to two Sunday services because of the freedom she gave me.
All of this started because of a story I just read where a man had a secretary for 12 years and was rather baffled that she was always so full of energy and got so much work done. When she finally quit he learned that his secretary was actually a set of twins, each working halftime and splitting the paycheck. They must have been really good and truly identical or he was a very poor observer. In any case, I want to give thanks for all dedicated overworked and underpaid secretaries, especially those who keep our churches running.
Post Script:
*Five of these were repeat addresses.
Labels: In praise of Secretaries
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