Retreat and Recreation

Much has been said about busyness being a badge of honour in our culture. If we’re not busy and not producing we are apparently squandering our gifts, wasting our time and not propping up people and the economy. Now into my second week with my foot off the gas pedal of pastoral care and leading worship, I’m gradually accepting a slower pace despite being counter-cultural.

The process of finishing a ministry position has always involved lots of emotions for me, regardless of the circumstances. This time, after the intensity of serving a large congregation during the pandemic, those emotions have been very real and diverse. I expected the grief of suddenly not being so in touch with people’s lives and relied on. I didn’t expect the subsequent feeling of uselessness because I intentionally planned for a break to decompress. I didn’t expect the guilt for being out of the trenches when others are still serving, exhausted. I didn’t expect the loss of identity because I can be so much about what I do and not who and Whose I am.

Over a month ago I planned to go on a women’s retreat to give me time away to discern and recalibrate, to gain perspective and be in a different space spiritually and physically. This weekend it’s finally happening and the timing feels right. I’ve had chance to step back and hand over things to our new minister. I’m no longer in a state of restless anxiety that comes with a sudden large hole in your days. That has been replaced with the question of when I’ll be ready for the next thing to which I’m called and how I will recognize it.

I’m not always the most patient person and yet even I know how much I need time to step away and take Sabbath and listen for the still small voice. I know how tired I am, for many reasons, and sleep has been a great gift as time has opened up in my schedule. My mind knows that self-care is essential and that when I shirk it I don’t have the resources to handle issues that crop up with grace and calm. This weekend’s retreat will probably seem foreign at first, even though it’s at a camp I know well. It’s such a shift to allow others to care for you when you are in the habit of caring for others.

To those in the trenches and to those recovering from being in the trenches over the last 20 months, I wish for you that even if you can’t devote a weekend or more to retreat and recreating and rejuvenating yourself right now, that you still manage to carve out some time. If a full day doesn’t feel possible, even a few hours of unplugging from responsibilities and being the one in charge is hugely helpful. We know the adage that you can’t pour into others from an empty cup. We aren’t heroes because of how we abuse and neglect ourselves. Instead it is God who works through us and who values us and asks us to honour the Sabbath.

Yesterday I went to lunch with friends I hadn’t seen in nearly two years who don’t know me because of my ministry. There was no pressure to take on that role but to just be together and enjoy a meal. After lunch I discovered two new stores focused on selling products from local artisans and business owners with an eco-friendly bent. The owners cared for me in how they shared about their products and listened. They were a hopeful sign of new life in a time that has seemed static and never-ending. I walked home in the fall air with my purchases, feeling the sun on my face. It was a wonderful way to spend an afternoon, reminded that I’m not in charge. The blessing of my community, of conversation with old friends, changed my day and outlook.

Some of us may feel like we haven’t done enough or have spent the pandemic isolated and lazing around. Others have taken on too much. Wherever we are, may we be intentional about taking time to stop and listen, to rejuvenate and care for ourselves, to pray and to read, to eat good food and recover our sense of joy and wonder. Advent starts in a week and a half. May it be a time to rediscover our need for Jesus and a time to prepare ourselves for the reality of His coming.