Vacation is Calling

I have to say that I’m looking forward to holiday time. The last several months have been a strange rollercoaster of emotions and experiences, of ministry turned upside down and re-considered from scratch, of people grieving in so many ways. There have been many moments of joy as we have together worked through challenges, but there has also been pain, frustration and lament.

What does vacation look like in Covid-19? I have to say how glad I am that our east coast trip was last summer. I’m also glad that I’m privileged to live in an area not hard hit by cases and that where we’re going isn’t far or hard hit either. Holidays are going to take considerably more planning this year, even to do something simple. Have we got enough masks, soap/sanitizer, water, and an idea of what places are actually open and when, and where we can eat? It’s exhausting to even think about. Some vacation.

We’re not going for long, but instead thinking of creative things to do even at home. So how can we turn this into a restful time when we can unplug from the technology we’ve been glued to for months in place of human contact? I know I’m looking forward to trails, being close to water, sitting at a campfire, lying on a blanket and looking at the sky, reading frivolous things and catching up on some movies. While the Covid-19 pace was different and perhaps a bit slower in some ways, it still carried urgency and anxiety. I know I need to put that down for as long as I can.

For us in ministry, taking holidays especially when we know some of our people are in difficulty, can be tough. If we let ourselves, we can feel like we’re the only person who can help, who can answer the crisis calls, who can be there when needed. We can also slide into feeling sorry for ourselves, for the enormous output of time and creativity during the last few months that not many will understand. We need to consciously hand over all our stuff and our people to God and invite God to help us slow down.

My prayer is that I can do that. The need to unplug is tangible. I know this, and yet people’s e-mails can be a highlight of my day, and texts around worship and other planning can make me feel connected and valued. I’m still going to try to severely limit my access to my cellphone and computers. I’m going to do my best to focus on what is actually all around me - the beauty of creation and the people in the room and how my own heart and soul are doing.

To actually slow down and reflect and listen can seem scary. After going full tilt for so long there may be plenty to process that we’ve pushed down because really feeling those losses seemed to take too much energy at the time. And there are many losses to grieve - not seeing our people, worship and how we like to do things possibly forever changed, security in how the world works, having to wear masks and avoid physical contact. I know I need to be prepared for some messy emotions to come out when I let my guard down a bit and get off the rollercoaster.

I also know that to restore and rejuvenate myself I need to free myself to process and leave some things behind. I need to be reminded of the arms of God holding me up and allowing me to rest in safety.

I pray that you have holidays that refuel you, that remind you of the Spirit’s gentle power and that God is more than capable of holding all the things that you’ve been carrying. It’s not up to you to bear all that weight. God cares for you even more than you care for your own circle. So allow God to take care of you in this time. May you know the peace of Christ that passes all understanding.

See you in a few weeks!