I typically loathe telling people that I’m a pastor. I’m not ashamed, of course. I’m grateful for God’s calling on my life into ministry, particularly ministry to students and young adults. It’s just that when many people hear the title “pastor”, all manner of imagery comes to mind and some of it not very favorable. For that reason, when someone asks me what I do for a living, I usually respond with “Investor.”

As a pastor in the Church of the Nazarene, I am afforded a 6-Sunday sabbatical every seven years. What that basically means is that I am not expected to carry out any pastoral duties for a season of six consecutive Sundays (and the weeks that follow them). However, the sabbatical is not a vacation, per se. In the personnel policy of our particular local church, I am expected to use these six weeks to grow, to learn, to gain something, and to return with a report/presentation on how I used my time. In that regard, this might be viewed as the beginning of a 6-week assignment. I’m suddenly even more tired.

So I was musing about attempting to do a daily blog post for these six weeks. Then I thought better of it. I think I landed on a weekly check-in to record what I’m doing, what I’m learning, and any other details of my sabbatical. As a blogger, I have a real desire for consistency in my blog postings. Sadly, there’s simply too much life to live that I don’t have the time to write about living it, at least not as much as I’d like. A more seasoned blogger (I’ve only been at it for 16 years) undoubtedly has some secret hack that allows them to both live dynamically and write frequently. I just haven’t found that elusive sweet spot.

So what do I hope to do during my time away from my normal responsibilities? The big(ger) pieces on the calendar are a few trips to Ohio, Florida, and North Carolina to visit family. I hope to go on at least two overnights with my bride somewhere fun and relaxing (TBD). I’ve got a friend who’s got a season pass to Busch Gardens and therefore a free ticket for me. So one day we’ll hang out riding rollercoasters all day. I’ve got another friend who’s invited me to Tangier, an island only accessible by boat that only has about 4 cars on the small, unique land mass. We’ll eat lunch, enjoy ice cream, and chat about life. Beyond those things, I hope to stroll numerous vintage/antique shops, finish 3 books (don’t laugh–I read slowly), tackle some small projects at home, and see things I’ve haven’t seen yet.

I’d like to give more attention to physical upkeep. I’ve got a goal of losing 12 lbs. over these 6 weeks. That’ll take lots of walking, lots of water, and some (uugghh) more elevated exercises than I typically engage in. I’m not huge on exercise (shocking, I know) so I might just draw all the curtains, turn out all the lights, and put “Just Dance” on the old Xbox. I also recently went paddle boarding for the first time while in Florida and came back with a desire to go again. Thankfully, I’ve got a friend who’s willing to loan me her inflatable paddle board so I can hit the James and enjoy some sun and exercise. I’m not sure if that qualifies as strenuous exercise, but it’s something to enjoy while being out in nature.

Zooming out from the details of my life, though…what about you? You might not receive sabbatical time from your work/ministry, but that certainly doesn’t and shouldn’t stop you from taking seriously the need for rest in your daily/weekly rhythms. Where do you find respite, refuge, and rejuvenation on a regular basis? Where can you disconnect from normal stresses, from over scheduling, from the anxiety tax we seem to pay every day just for living and breathing?

In our stimuli-saturated existence, it might seem impossible to pause, to stop, to step away, to rest. But not doing so is like driving your car without stopping for gas because you’re determined to get to your destination. It just doesn’t work that way. You either rest or pay the hefty price for not resting. In an effort to help, I’m going to suggest a few thoughts to think:

1. Define what effective rest looks like for you. Where are you most alive? Go there. If you can’t go there, create some surrogate of that place that’s more accessible. Having grown up at the beach, the simple sensation of sand under my feet is recharging. I may not be able to get to the ocean regularly, but I can create some parallel experience through getting my feet onto sand in other ways. I can walk on the moss in my backyard. I can go to the river and stand barefoot on the boulders that line the river bank. By the way, do a search on the scientific advantages behind getting your bare feet in contact with the earth. Pretty fascinating.
2. Schedule rest. I know that sounds unromantic and not sexy at all. But here’s the thing–it’s biblical. God handed this rule to His people, and Jesus in His earthly ministry reiterated the need for rest. He modeled it and expected it from His disciples. Schedule rest and then guard that appointment like you would your most important appointment with your doctor, therapist, or closest friend. When that time comes, be ready. Go where you need to go, have your nickels saved up for that special drink, have your shoes laced up for that special hike, have your special book ready for that park bench or hammock.
3. Change your view on rest. Remember that song “Everybody’s working for the weekend“? Most people view rest as the reward for a job well done (or done). But what we should do is to view work as what we’re enabled to do because of our rest. You may have heard of the concept of “working out of overflow”. What if instead of dragging yourself through your work in order to collapse at the finish line and finally able to rest, you viewed rest as the starting line and you operated from a full tank, ready to tackle the course ahead? I’d dare say we’d prioritize rest more than we do if we viewed it as essential to the start rather than a reward at the end.

Stop here. Breathe deeply. Close your eyes for 60 seconds. Go to that place that your mind imagines as your place of rest. Take a mental vacation for one minute. Breathe.

You back? Good. Now, consider this as your permission to revisit that getaway anytime you want or need to. I don’t care when you do it. Just do it. Promise yourself and stick to that promise. I’ll do the same. See you next week.