Tag Archives: sabbatical

On Finding God in the Busyness…

06 Wednesday Sep 2023

Posted by in reflection

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

Photo credit: https://www.theladders.com/career-advice/overcoming-business-our-cultural-addiction

One of the questions I received before heading off on sabbatical was whether my sabbatical was too full.  I chuckled at the question because on paper, my sabbatical did have a great deal of movement and activity.  But I also knew that as an extrovert who was longing to reconnect after a pandemic that forced a period of disconnection, I would be just fine.  What I was more surprised about was my own parish’s response to their sabbatical.  When I have asked them “How was your sabbatical?” many people have responded, “It was busy!” or “That was one of the busiest summers we’ve had!”  Upon further inquiry, to a person, the follow-up comment was how although the summer of sabbatical was busy, it was full of meaningful, powerful, enriching things – none of which they would have missed or wanted to omit from the schedule. 

I often talk about the temptations of busyness – how busyness can keep us from noticing God, or how busyness can make us feel like we’re accomplishing something even if that accomplishment is purposeless movement or busyness for busyness’ sake.  But I never really thought about how busyness filled with the work of God or with encounters with God in community can be tremendously life giving.  In essence, the difference seems to be how we define sabbath or sabbatical.  For many of us, sabbath or sabbatical should mean rest or a slowing down of all things so that we can take in God’s creation and blessing.  And for many, both physical rest and spiritual rest are necessary.  But for anyone who has wasted a day away binge-watching a series, we know that not all “rest” is created equal.  That’s why we talk so much about sabbatical or sabbath being about renewal – about the feeding of our souls.  That renewal might be found in the busyness of yoga classes, labyrinth walks, meditation classes, or movie and game nights.  Renewal might be about surrounding yourself with laughter, storytelling, and dancing.  And renewal might also be about sitting on a bench in solitude, listening to the sounds of God’s creation.

As the school year gets underway, church gets back into its program year, and busyness starts to bubble up in our lives, I hope what we take from our time of sabbatical into our post-sabbatical time is a pattern of making our busyness holy.  Where are you finding God on the football field, gymnastics mat, or the horse stables?  Where are finding God in the lunch meetings, PTA events, or church calendar?  Where are you finding God in phone call to a grieving friend, the meal made for someone recovering from surgery, or the backpack purchased for a neighbor?  Our busyness does not have to be inherently pulling us away from God.  Our invitation is to look for and celebrate God in the midst of the busyness. 

On the Senses and God…

23 Wednesday Aug 2023

Posted by in reflection

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

Morning sun at Rehoboth Beach (photo credit: Jennifer Andrews-Weckerly; reuse with permission)

One of the gifts of sabbatical this summer was a heightening of the senses.  Some days it was the sense of taste – the rich freshness of local produce ripening in season, from blueberries bursting in skins to watermelon full of sweet refreshment to corn crunching with salty goodness.  Other days it was the sense of hearing – from the roar of the ocean to the gritty sound of bike wheels on a wooden boardwalk to the tinkling songs of an ice cream truck.  Other days it was sense of touch – from the coolness of a rock in the shade on a hot summer day to the feel of a sore muscle after a strenuous climb to the warmth of the sun on your skin as the day slowly heats.  Other days it was the sense of smell – from the smell of coals roasting food for a cookout to the clean smell of suds as you scrub a car before the day gets too warm to the earthy smell of trees on a shaded long hike.  And other days it was the sense of sight – from the magnificence of a slowly setting sun from the top of a mountain to watching an eagle swoop down into a river to grab a fish for dinner to seeing a friend whose familiar facial features you had missed after a long separation.

I suppose those stimuli to the senses are available all the time, unique to the season of the year, waiting to be tasted, heard, touched, smelled, or seen.  But something about the busyness of life dulls the senses.  We smell someone’s perfume or cologne in passing, but immediately refocus the brain on whatever task is at hand.  We taste an amazing wine or meal, but it is a fleeting joy before putting the kids to bed.  We feel the blast of summer heat leaving our air-conditioned homes but feel more annoyed than fascinated by the stark differences in seasons.  We hear a burst of someone’s laughter, but do not have time to slow down for a conversation that might gift us with similar laughter.  We glimpse a field of wildflowers on the way to an appointment, but our minds immediately return to the checklist we were mentally making.  The senses are all there, but we simply do not have the time to walk around in a constant state of awe or reverence for God’s creation. 

As I am easing my way out of sabbatical time, figuring out what to hold onto, I was thinking that part of the challenge of non-sabbatical time is five senses are a lot to focus on at one time – especially when my brain is busy shutting down the sensory experience so that I can achieve another task.  Instead, I have taken to committing each day to celebrating one kind of sensory experience.  Maybe today I will pay attention to my sense of smell – what smells might bring me joy.  Tomorrow, I may pay attention to my sense of taste – what yummy flavor can make me pause in delight.  Somehow knowing that I only need to focus on one sensory pleasure allows me moments of sabbatical even in non-sabbatical time.

I wonder what reconnecting with your senses this week might do to help you connect with God.  Perhaps the work isn’t to charge through the day with the assignment to pay attention to your senses.  Perhaps the work is holding some inner space in your being for God to fill – so that when you see that beautiful sunrise, or when you smell that fragrant flower, or when you hear that delightful song, you allow God space, even in the busyness of everyday life.  Making that inner space is one way we create daily sabbatical time with God – where God can speak to us, even in life’s busyness.

On Not Really Being Alone…

16 Wednesday Aug 2023

Posted by in reflection

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Beehive Trail Iron Rungs, Acadia National Park (Photo credit: Elaine Ho; reuse with permission)

Last week, I finished up my sabbatical on a trip with college friends to Acadia National Park.  Having been friends for over 26 years, and having traveled together, domestically and abroad, we know each other well – each other’s habits, weaknesses, and strengths.  We know who is most likely to get up early for exercise, who you don’t talk to before they’ve had coffee, and who is a total chicken when it comes to anything adventure related.  That last one would be me.  But since we all know how tentative I am, we all know they will push me to try new adventures anyway, and I will say yes – even if I grumble, curse, and sometimes pray my way through the adventures.

This year’s adventure was hiking the Beehive Loop Trail – a trail with a steep mountain cliff, boulders, exposed ledges, and iron rungs.  We’ve done hikes before, and I’m relatively fit, but this was definitely a difficulty I have never tried and would certainly not have tried of my own volition.  But this is what we do, and so off I went.  I knew the trail was no joke when the first part of the “trail” was actually just a path of small boulders to navigate over.  As we made our way up, I could see the views were going to be amazing.  But I stopped when I got to the first real set of iron rungs.  After a few deep breaths, some encouraging words whispered in my ear, I grabbed the first rung.  As I scanned for where to place my feet, I could see worn footholds from thousands of hikers before me.  As we walked along ledges, the skinny tree trunks I used as handholds were smooth from those same thousands of hikers who had grabbed them before me.  When the hikers in front of us were moving slowly and we just had to stand on narrow ledges waiting for our turn, I hugged the rock cliff beside us. 

Nature’s handrails, Beehive Trail, Acadia National Park (Photo credit: Elizabeth Shows Caffey; reuse with permission)

During that hike, I slowly realized the reason I say yes to these challenging women is not because I’m avoiding conflict or caving to peer pressure.  I say yes because I am never alone in my yes.  Whether it is my amazing friend who refuses to bound ahead because she knows that if I slip or start to panic, she will catch me and encourage me ever so gently.  Whether it is the guidance of travelers before me who have left their wisdom behind.  Whether it is in God’s creation herself who stands strong when we need her.  So, as I mutter the reminder, “I love these women…” like it’s both a curse and a blessing, I am reminding myself I am not alone.  When I sigh in profound gratitude, “Thank you, tree,” I am reminding myself that God has not left me comfortless.  When I watch out-of-shape elders, and seemingly too young youngsters, being cheered on and reaching the top, I am reminded that none of us is alone. 

I wonder what challenges you are facing today that feel like a challenge you are facing alone.  I could have faced that mountain ledge or those crazy iron rungs and thought, “I am utterly alone in this.  Only I can take each step, ascend each level.  This is my battle to face.”  But just as I was never alone – and not just with my three other friends, but with countless generations of hikers, and centuries old formations of God’s creation, we are not alone in the challenges we face either.  How many times have we cried out to God for help, only to find a friend or stranger unexpectedly accompanying us?  Sometimes that worn foothold is hard to notice in the face of panic.  Sometimes the smoothness of that tree trunk is barely noticeable because we are gripping so hard or trying to move forward so quickly.  But God is with us, giving us companions for the journey.  We are not alone.

On Enjoying the Walk…

14 Friday Jul 2023

Posted by in reflection

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength.  Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.  (Isaiah 40.29-31, ESV)

Photo credit: https://www.henryford.com/blog/2023/05/10-ways-walk-better-health

I was reading today about a running method many marathon users use to help them sustain their pacing.  It’s called the “run/walk method.”  To sustain pacing for the marathon, a runner could choose to run for five minutes and walk for one throughout the race.  The challenge for the runner is to use this method throughout, especially at the beginning, when adrenaline is running high and it may feel like capitalizing on energy is a good idea.  Instead, keeping the run/walk pattern allows for the stamina for many runners to complete the race.[i] 

I’ve been thinking that my sabbatical has been utilizing the run/walk method by accident.  The twelves weeks had included multiple trips, punctuated by periods of 4-5 days at home between trips.  This week, one of those trips was cancelled due to weather complications, so my “walking” time at home has been more like 9-10 days.  Initially I was irritated by this disruption in my rhythm.  But as I lived this week a little differently, and as observations about the week have percolated up from family members, I have realized the gift of this rhythm disruption.

In the midst of this rhythm disruption, I have been able to more leisurely take naps and rest – something I would have limited if I knew I was approaching another “running” cycle.  I have also been able to be more thoughtful about time with family – whether an impromptu lunch with a kid at home, going to a community show with a kid instead of encouraging my spouse to do so, and just having some fun together time.  I’ve also been able to create quiet time in town – finding a place to tuck away in my local library.  It has not been the week I planned, but in many ways, it has been a week of blessings – certainly blessings I wouldn’t have enjoyed were I not on sabbatical in the first place.

I wonder what rhythm disruptions God has been gifting you lately.  Have you noticed them?  Have you been able to see them as invitations instead of annoyances?  I suspect the Holy Spirit does a lot more disrupting that we regularly notice.  Our invitation today is to settle down into a walk to see where the Spirit will guide us.

[i] As relayed by Curtis Zackery, in his book Finding Soul Rest:  40 Days of Connecting with Christ (Bellingham, WA:  Kirkdale Press, 2020), 52-53.

Sabbatical Journey…On Sabbaticals within Sabbaticals

30 Friday Jun 2023

Posted by in reflection

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , ,

Time for S’mores! (Reuse with permission)

If you are following this blog, you may have noticed that our family’s version of sabbatical is not really about rest.  Our sabbatical is more about getting out of your comfort zone, seeing the beauty of God’s creation, and making amazing memories.  But even sabbatical adventurers sometimes need a day of rest.  One of our crew was not feeling 100% today, so we left him behind and saw just a morning’s worth of the national park we wanted to visit instead of a whole day.  Seeing him have some down time made us realize maybe we all needed a little down time.  So instead of making memories out in the wild, we made memories resting in our lovely hotel.  It wasn’t dreamy or romantic, but it was very much lifegiving.

I was thinking how hard it is for all of us to give ourselves rest.  Our weekends are often a break from the work week or school week, but we want to enjoy them so much we often overly jam pack them – with sports commitments, attending events, meeting up with friends, or just getting out and about town.  Somehow rest on the weekend feels like wasting the weekend.  Part of my own sabbatical and my parish’s sabbatical was not necessarily scheduling a bunch of naps, but about creating space outside of the normal pace of life to reconnect – with God, with one another, with ourselves.

If you are not a part of our parish’s sabbatical (although if you are local, feel free to join any of the fun events found HERE), perhaps you can make this summer about finding mini sabbatical times too.  Maybe that means making space for prayer, finding your way to a church service (either in person or online), or taking on a spiritual practice.  Maybe it means engaging in an activity that helps you connect with God in a way that you haven’t tried before.  Or maybe it means taking a deep breath and really seeing the goodness all around you.  I promise, you’ll be grateful for the energizing your “sabbatical” can create!

Sabbatical Journey…on Burdens and Blessings

20 Tuesday Jun 2023

Posted by in reflection

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

My husband is a master planner, especially when it comes to travel.  So, when we embarked on this sabbatical adventure, I had no worries because I knew he had planned the trip, down to which rest areas we should use.  You might imagine that kind of exacting detail would translate to rigidity – someone who can become rattled when things do not go as planned.  But that is not the case with my husband.  In addition to being a master planner, he is also absolutely the person you want in the room when things go sideways.  He is able to quickly shift, make alterations, and carry things forward seamlessly.

Today, just day three of our twenty-one-day adventure, those skills came in very handy.  The first hiccup happened when our lunch plans got altered.  Our lunch date got called away (welcome to the life of a priest-parent!).  I was super sad about missing our visit but know all too well that things happen.  But when you travel with my super husband, all is not lost.  During lunch, my husband coordinated Plan B, and off we went to the Oklahoma City National Memorial.  I had only seen the site in pictures, but pictures cannot capture the power of seeing all those names, retelling the tragic story to our kids, noting small chairs for the children in daycare who died that day, and even worse, the one chair that indicated the death of a pregnant woman, with the unborn named child on her chair.  It was a powerful moment of sobriety and a reminder to all of us how much we need to savor one another.

Fast forward to our final destination.  We were all tired and a bit weary.  When we stopped at our hotel to check in, we figured the water gushing from a ceiling down the hall was a bad sign.  Sure enough, the hotel’s water had been shut down, with no estimated fix schedule.  Before we even got through the line to cancel our registration, my husband was already booking an alternative hotel on his phone, and then calling customer service to make sure our prior booking wouldn’t charge our card.  Our frazzled, anxious little family was on our way to a new hotel less than a block away within the half-hour.

It had been a heavy day.  We began the day with conversations about the Trail of Tears, why there are so many reservations in Oklahoma, and what we can do as consumers to support the economy of indigenous Americans.  We talked about Juneteenth, and wondered about our experiences in Little Rock and how much more work we have to do.  We recalled mass violence and the death penalty as we walked through the vivid artistry of the Oklahoma City National Memorial.  And we dealt with our own travel hiccups.  Needless to say, as walked in 100-degree weather to an impromptu dinner, we were all a bit worse for the wear.

And then I saw it.  A beautiful, unusual flower lining the road of our walk.  It seemed silly to stop and take a picture of the flowers (or at least, so my then cranky family told me), but I knew this was the Holy Spirit’s way of telling me to look around at the blessings of the day:  to remember the constant invitation to think about injustice in all its forms and how we can be agents of change; to remember that even when things do not go your way, sometimes equally wonderful things happen; to remember that even in the midst of sweaty, weary, whiny messes, God uses the gifts of all of us (problem-solving husbands, caring strangers, and even nature herself) to renew and restore us.  What blessings has the Holy Spirit been trying to show you today?

Photo credit: Jennifer Andrews-Weckerly (reuse with permission)

On Delight and Sabbatical…

06 Tuesday Jun 2023

Posted by in reflection

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

Photo credit: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/why-you-need-help-schedule-sabbatical-asap-kadi-cole-rn-ms/

Toward the end of my second week of sabbatical, it dawned on me what a different space sabbatical creates from vacation.  The beginning is quite similar:  a flurry of activity, trying to tie up loose ends, ensuring all systems and coverage are in place, and maybe, clearing off your desk.  But at the end of the second week of sabbatical, I noticed a distinction from vacation.  Usually at the end of vacation, even a two-week vacation, tension in my body begins to return.  The wheels in my mind start to churn, even if I know they shouldn’t.  “Work mode” creeps into vacation mode and spoils any deep relaxation I have established.  I was delighted to realize that creep is not happening as I enter week three of sabbatical.

Part of my delight in this realization is how restorative these last two weeks have been.  It’s been such a joy to slow down and reconnect with God, with my family, and with friends.  When I was on retreat at the monastery, I turned off the notifications on my phone, and I was amazed at how much tension released from my body.  In times of quiet, I have been able to stop talking so much, and be more focused on listening:  to God, to my family, to those around me.  And in the differently paced time of sabbatical, I am finding so much love:  finding “space” to remember how powerfully life-giving the loving relationships are in my life.

I am not likely to have twelve weeks of sabbatical again for at least another seven years, which has left me wondering how to hold on to moments of sabbatical time in “real life.”  How might I find harmony between my natural full-speed self and my intentional sabbatical self?  It is my hope in the coming weeks to learn that harmonic practice.  I would love to hear what tricks you have developed for that harmony in your own life!

Sermon – Acts 1.6-14, E7, YA, May 21, 2023

30 Tuesday May 2023

Posted by in Sermons

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

One of my favorite videos on YouTube is an experiment by the group called SoulPancake.  They asked six pairs of individuals, in various stages of relationship (from total strangers to a couple who has been married 55 years) to sit in two chairs facing one another, and without speaking, look into one another’s eyes for four minutes.  At first the couples are a bit uncomfortable – initially unsettled by the forced silence, but ultimately jarred by what they quickly realize is deep intimacy.  Slowly over the four minutes the couples settle in, their faces transforming from discomfort to curious to deep connection.  You can almost see the sparks of love emerging in their eyes, tension draining from their bodies, and invariably smiles of appreciation spreading across their mouths.[i] 

When Willie James Jennings writes about the ascension of Jesus, one his primary concerns is that in focusing on the heavens, where Jesus used to be, the disciples will forget to focus on one another, on the stranger in need of witness, and on the presence of God.  Jennings worries that the disciples are looking “into the heavens concerned by absence rather than looking forward to see presence.”[ii]  The text from the Acts of the Apostles tells us of the last earthly day of Jesus’ post-resurrection life.  Jesus gives the disciples a commission and is lifted up into the clouds and whisked away.  The text tells us the disciples do exactly what you might imagine – they stand there, staring at the heavens.  I imagine that standing and staring had several iterations:  there was likely the stunned awe of the moment; there may have been some not wanting to leave for fear of missing what might happen next; there may be some immediate second guessing about what this all means; there may be some Peter-esque desire to preserve the sacred location of the profound moment; there may be a sense deep grief, or conversely a sense of profound joy.  Whatever those disciples are doing, they are not at all doing they are supposed to do.  Hence the men in white robes asking their very basic question, “Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?”

You and I are about to engage in the profound and infrequent journey of sabbatical.  The temptations in this time are many.  For either of us, we could easily see this as twelve weeks of frozen time – where we will each gaze upon God, and then simply pick up where we left off in August.  For either of us, we could be prepared to happily engage in sabbatical activities, absorbed in our own mountaintop experiences, forgetting the journey of the other.  For either of us, we could be guided by fear, burying our talent like in the parable in Matthew – just hoping not to risk doing sabbatical the “wrong way” instead of investing our talents to see what return we gain. 

But there is danger in looking up in the heavens into absence as opposed to looking forward to presence.  Alan Hirsch tells us, “the biggest blockage to the next experience of God is often the last experience of God, because we get locked into it.”[iii]  [repeat]  What those men in white knew was that if the disciples stood there lost in themselves or even in the ascended Jesus, they would never get their next experience of God – they would get so locked into the mountaintop experience of Jesus’ ascension, that they would never make their way to the next experience of God – in their case the great gift of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost.

That is our invitation today.  As we stand on the precipice of sabbatical, maybe as we are still reveling in the memory of an outstanding parish-wide retreat this weekend, or wondering what sabbatical activities we want to try, or even feeling a bit of anxiety about what is next, a great whispering is happening nearby, “why are you standing looking up toward heaven?”  Our invitation instead is to resist letting our next experience of God be our last experience of God.  Our invitation is to gather in these next weeks in prayer and community, knowing that the Holy Spirit will do a new thing in all of us.  Our invitation is to walk down the mountain and into the valley of witnessing the gospel of Jesus, looking forward not only for the presence of God, but gazing deeply into the eyes of others.[iv]  This time of sabbatical is not a time to marked by absence, but instead is a time looking forward to see presence.  We can only see that presence if we pull our eyes from heaven and gaze into the sacred we find in one another.  The next experience of God promises to be greater still than our last experience of God.  I can’t wait to hear all about your next experience.  Amen.

[i] Georgia Koch, “How To Connect With Anyone,” SoulPancake, February 12, 2015, as found at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xm-T3HCa618 on May 20, 2023.

[ii] Willie James Jennings, Acts:  Belief:  A Theological Commentary on the Bible (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2017), 19-20.

[iii]  Alan Hirsch and Rob Kelly, Metanoia: How God Radically Transforms People, Churches, and Organizations From the Inside Out (Cody, Wyoming:  100 Movements Publishing, 2023).

[iv] John S. McClure, “Homiletical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. A, Vol. 2 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 525.