It has been over a month now since I preached my last sermon at Washington Plaza
. It's very different life from how it was only a few months ago when I was asked to stand in pulpit every week and give an account of my faith while lovingly finding a way to be a presence of care for others. And although I jumped back into the pulpit last week as a guest preacher, my life in general has been lived out of the spotlight and I think will continue to be such for a bit longer. Sabbatical 2013 is on full-time.
Now, I go to church on Sunday and sit in the back pew and get up to walk out the door when the pastor says amen. I blog and write for online publications less, instead focusing on my goal of finishing my book manuscript by March 31. I spend more time than I have had at the gym. Maybe a 5K is in my future soon?
People who know me well ask one of two questions:
1. Are you bored?
2. What are you doing next?
These are normal questions to ask. But I'm not very good at answering them. Sometimes I miss the pace of what my life used to be, but most of the time I don't. As much as I am cheering on my favorite clergy pals and churches for whom I have rich histories, I have no envy of "I wish I were you." (Well, of course I could feel differently by Easter). And for the record, I no I have no 10 step plan for what is coming next.
I've had several pastor types say to me recently, "I could never do what you are doing. I could never leave what I know by choice." But, I made this big leap with Kevin's full support and I need to tell you that I'm still alive (imagine that?)! I'm also breathing, smiling, laughing and crying through the joys and sorrows of life just like everyone does, maybe though a richer level than before.
In taking this time to learn to exist and move in this world without a title or a traditional job to call my own, it has its scary moments of course. Sabbatical times are not for those who like hanging on to ego, public recognition, or even a "can-do" spirit.
I need to tell you that I worry if I stop blogging all the time many of you will stop reading altogether (and I like this conversation we're having). I worry no one will ask me to write for them again if I don't keep reminding them to ask me. I worry I might just have a completely new take on the church as an outsider that may never allow me to come back as the insider I once was. But in all of these things, Sabbath time is all about letting go and having faith that as you move through the rhythms of each day more will be revealed.
One of my favorite Sabbath authors, Wayne Muller writes:
“All life requires a rhythm of rest. . .
There is a rhythm in the way day dissolves into night, and night into morning. There is a rhythm as the active growth of spring and summer is quieted by the necessary dormancy of fall and winter. There is a tidal rhythm, a deep, eternal conversation between the land and the great sea. ”
Instead of moving slowly and listening to these rhythms, it would be much easier to start marketing myself for what is next (I know how to do that). Or, try to find some part-time job so that I could say I'm doing ___. (I know how to do that too). Or, even to be online every five minutes posting my accomplishments ("See, look at me, I'm as busy as you, just not getting paid for it right now") so others can validate my existence. But, such is not Sabbath's way.
Sabbath's way is about saying "no" so that we can say "yes" with greater confidence.
There are times of course when I feel guilty about my place of privilege-- I know countless others would love to have this kind of time a part from the norm and their financial, family or other life circumstances simply won't allow such. But, I have to keep reminding myself that Sabbath is a gift. God gave me this gift. It would just as wrong not to receive it.
And, as much as I would just like to crawl in a cave with my most favorite people in the world and call this Sabbath, life (or least how I experience it) can not be totally lived in a bubble. There are bills to pay, food to prepare, clothes to wash, events to go to that help support the work of my husband, and people who come out of nowhere and hit my car while I was minding your my business and as a result now require long and dramatic conversations with insurance companies to get it fixed. As we all experience, life happens. Even in Sabbath, we can't control.
Thanks for stopping by to sit in Sabbath with me for just for just a bit. Now, out of the spotlight I go again.
