What I'm Doing With Six Months "Off"

"What will you be doing for six months?"

The question comes up a lot these days.

Folks from my faith community mostly are asking it.  They're referring to a six month hiatus from having any presence at all at Highview between June 1 and December 1, 2018.  This is an important piece in the transition between myself and Highview's new Senior Pastor Erin Wildsmith, as I step into a new role, Missionary In Residence.

What a wonderful gift to be asked to remain part of the community I love so deeply, to have their full support for the work in Thailand, and to know that, at the proper time, I can come home to worship again.

But first, there's six months away.  What will I do?

For those who know me, it won't come as any great surprise you to know that I have a list.

1.  New Office Space

The first order of business is to move out of my office. I am so grateful for Erin's patience as I have asked that this not happen until after the goodbye service on Sunday, May 27th.  I just knew I would need to still have my office intact on that day, so I could say a proper, private, early hours goodbye.  This office has been a sacred space to me for a very long time.  God has been so very present, always. Countless sermons, personal break-throughs, moments of revelation and vision and surrender.  Pain, joy, frustration, awe.  Deep and beautiful conversations with folks exploring the nuances of spiritual formation and the complex matters of life.  So much prayer.

I have truly loved being in my office.

But now I am just as truly glad for Erin, to entrust it to her.  For her to finally have a space where she can concentrate and spread out a little and have actual shelves for her books.  To let it become a sacredness of its own for the ministry God has so clearly called her to at Highview.

AND, while it will be different, I am also looking forward to setting up and settling in to my space downstairs at home that will become "the office" for all the new things God is bringing.  Another sacred space no doubt.

2.  Sabbath and Restoration

When it was first suggested that a six month hiatus would be in order, and that this would start at the beginning of the summer, more or less, it wasn't hard to imagine myself being up at the cottage for as much of it as possible.  In this time of letting go and moving toward new things, there has been for me a strong sense that God is calling me to a time of deep rest.  To just be for a bit.  Not to put too much on the calendar.  Not to expect too much of myself.  To release the sense of responsibility and availability the pastoral life demands, and just sit in unhurried ways for a bit, to listen.  To grieve what I've left behind.  To prepare for what's to come.

A big part of this for me is to refocus on the self care of eating properly, exercising more expansively, and just being quiet. This deep invitation by God is matched by deep longing in my soul.  I am curious to know who will emerge from this extended time of sabbath.

 3.  Directed Reading and Research

I'm working, ever so slowly, on this Masters of Divinity degree at Tyndale University and Seminary.  Ever.  So.  Slowly.  During the time of my life when I was fully engaged as the pastor of a local church, I was really only able to do one, maybe two credits per year.  Now, with just five more to go, I am hoping, planning, exited to think about getting this done in good time.

For right now, I have been approved to earn a needed Christian Education Elective credit through something called a Directed Reading and Research course.  Basically, I will be working with a professor towards the out-of-class work described in the syllabus we have created together.  The fancy title for this course is "Incarnational Cross-Cultural Christian Education:  Strategies Toward Reciprocal Learning".  I don't blame you if that doesn't sound as thrilling to you as it does to me, but I am actually really pumped about it!!!  It includes a six week 'on the ground' component where I will be at Hot Springs actually teaching.  And it includes a final research paper that touches on some of the passions I've been developing in incarcational ministry, that maybe, hopefully, perhaps could end up being expanded into a body of work that might actually be helpful in this field.

This is already underway and I'm already putting time and brain power towards it.  And if all goes well, it will all be completed around the same time as the six months is done.

 4.  Hot Springs

Of course.  It goes without saying that with six months 'free' my heart would pull me to the other side of the world.  Truth is, I miss them all the time, I just do.  So two trips are planned within this six months.  One will be a shorter trip in July, and then the six week stint described above.

Already, even in preparing for July, I am thoroughly enjoying the time I have to give better preparation to sermons and lessons taught while there.  I have been told by Thais that the general impression is that Western Christians are better theologically trained than their Asian counterparts, mostly, only because of available schools and resources.  I am not entirely convinced this is true.  Either way, it seems only fitting to share what little experience and education I have been given with Suradet and Yupa, the children, the dear folks at Hot Springs Church, and perhaps other pastors who badly need encouragement and training.  Encouraging other Thai pastors is another growing passion of my heart.

All this is the beginning formation of the role of Missionary In Residence.  Even though I won't be back at Highview until December, the ministry in Thailand continues and I will be doing more of the work I love in supporting what Suradet and Yupa are doing with our kids.

5.  Other Wonderful Things

In a more general way, there are lots of things that will keep me occupied any time I'm not doing what I've just described.  For example, our house needs a lot of work.  I have a list for that too (and yes, you just heard my husband groan).

As well, it will be very lovely for me to be able to be more of a 'Go to Gramma' for PD Days, sick days, and other school holidays.  The priority of being a energetic part of my grandchildren's lives can now have more room.



So that's what I think will keep me moving, growing, leading, loving, and otherwise occupied from the end of May until the beginning of December.  It's a lovely list.

And as I have often said, I am unspeakably grateful for the abundant life I am living.  I could never have imagined it.  Really.

Makes me curious to see what God's got in mind for this next phase of my life.

The Cobweb of Confession

It all starts so innocently.

At home on a Monday with the sun shining in just at the right time, I catch a glimpse of a solitary strand of cobweb up on the top of one of the kitchen cupboards.  My casual flick of the dishcloth doesn't quite take care of it.  So I go to fetch the step ladder.

Later I will identify this my first fatal error.

Up just that one step higher, I realize with a small remembrance of 'housewife guilt' (yes, I'm from that era) that there is actually quite a collection of cob webs up here.  As I trace my eye across the top of the entire kitchen, I try to recall the last time this kitchen had a top-to-bottom cleaning, and feel shame.  Not that much shame, because I'm hardly the only one who lives here, and it's not like I haven't been otherwise unoccupied, and after all there hasn't been that much sunshine when I've actually been home to notice it before this, and at least I've already started cleaning the windows for spring.  So not that much shame.

But enough to climb all the way up and get those wispy guilt-trippers.

Later I will identify this as my second fatal error.

I will not fully describe what I discover once at the top of the cupboard, for two reasons.  One, I want to respect those readers who have a more sensitive stomach.  Two, the shame thing again.  It's enough to report that now that I am up on the counter itself, I am suddenly motivated to do some hard core spring cleaning, right here, right now!

Moving preciously up and down the ladder a few times, I arm myself with rubber gloves, cleaner and a rag that I fully intend to throw out at the end of the mission.  I clean just one section.  It takes all morning.  I feel tired in my arms like I know it's going to hurt tomorrow.

When it's done I make a cup of tea and survey my work.  Other than the absence of that one initiating cobweb, there is no evidence whatsoever of my efforts.  None.  I sip my tea and contemplate life's futility.  The cupboard looks exactly as it did when I started.

But it is clean.  It's a hidden clean, but it's clean!

And then this metaphor.

Because the kitchen isn't the only area of my life I've been hard core cleaning these days.  I have an office to move.  I have files to purge and organize.  I have a ministry to hand over in good order.   And as I start with the small things, like a cob web that strangely looks like a stapler, or an office chair, or some commentaries, I am led deeper into places of my soul that I thought were okay, but to my dismayed surprise are not.  I realize that there are dark corners of my psyche and soul on which, despite my self-illusion that I live a totally surrendered life, greasy layers have taken a grimy grasp. 



Hidden places.

The psalmist prays a dangerous prayer.

"Search me, God, and know my heart,
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting."
Psalm 139:23-24

The virgin makes a dangerous agreement.

"I am the Lord's servant.
Be it done to me as you have said."
Luke 1:38

And there's nothing for it but to lay it all down again.
The only fatal error being NOT getting up on that ladder to see.
Do the hard work of it until my arms and my heart hurt.
Clean out the hidden places that have been neglected.
Get this back to the top.
Receive the forgiveness and mercy that obliterates the shame.
And live free of it.


Because any other life is futile.

All or nothing, Jesus, just like you did for me.










 

A Hug In Reverse

So, I'm going just come out and say it.

Even in the midst of so many joys, opportunities and new things waiting, this entire season of letting go has been painful.  And it's only getting worse the closer it gets.

In less than two months, May 27,  I will officially step down as Highview's Senior Pastor.  Even in writing that out just now, I've stopped to heave an involuntary deep, and slightly shuddered sigh.   Okay, more honestly, I've been pretty weepy these past few days.

It's that big a deal.  Because....love.

When you've loved a certain way, with a certain freedom and permission, if you will, for this many years, it becomes far more part of your chemistry and synapses and DNA and heartbeat and breathing and being than you could ever have imagined.

Problem is, I love Highview with all of me.  And love makes this letting go really sting.

And lately I've realized it feels like what I'm doing right now is very much like the opposite of a hug.  Like a hug in reverse.  Everything that prompts a hug - the desire to hold close, draw near, be fully present in the moment of - I'm feeling all the feels of that, but doing the exact opposite.

In my leadership, shepherding, pastoral life, I have had by default the honour of knowing and being known, loving and being loved in ways that run into the deeper places of our lives.  I have stood in holy places with you, beautiful and wretched, where life is most real and love is grown; birthing beds and death beds, gravesides and coffee shops turned into confession booths, emergency rooms, ICUs, and in ceremonies, indoors and out, where vows are spoken.

And also, even less intensely, in the every day way of loving that a pastor just does, just making sure things run smoothly, leading meetings, following up on all the nuanced conversations, scooping up all the body language, building teams, praying, studying, preaching.  All of it.  It was - is - all part of how I have hoped to love you.

But this season I have handed over, delegated, stepped aside, released, let it be someone else.  Someone capable and humble and ready and respected.  And it all feels very, very right, and good and freeing, and part of a true and fascinating story God has been writing for our church. 

There is  no worry in my mind at all that Highview won't be well loved when I'm gone.  Just, know that.  And I have lots else to do.  This is also very true.  It's not like I'm bored or lonely or wondering what comes next.  My days are full still, even as the shift begins, and I map out weeks now that include more time for some of the things that are ahead of me.

But it still just feels so weird that I'm not 'doing' all those love things I used to do.  Feels like indifference, neglect, like I don't care, or at least that it looks that way, even though inside of me love rages on.

But this is the most loving thing to do now.
Let go.
And go away.
For a while.

Like a hug in reverse.

So....in real time hugs, I'm going after as many of those as I can for these next eight Sundays.  Fair warning.

[Don't worry.  The non-huggers in my life and congregation have nothing to fear.  You know I know who you are and love you just the same, just the way you are, and won't be bugging hugging you.  Well, not too much, at least.]

But the hugs in real time will help, I think.  I hope they help you know I love you, even as I let go of this.  And the hugs will help me too, so thank you in advance.

Because the joy at the other end of all of this is that I don't have to go all the way away.

Three time periods chunk themselves out before us.

Now to May 27 - Letting go and getting in as many real time hugs as I can.

June 1 to December 1 - A time of deep resting for me, and for allowing space for Highview to continue to be amazing.

December 2 and onward - A new era of being with you.  And the real time hugs can happen again.

Oh Highview, do you know how much I love you?  Do you?

It would be such a shame if, somehow, you didn't know this by now.

Sonrise Manifesto

Resurrection Morning!

Jesus breaks loose!

Nothing will ever be the same!

Mourning gives way to morning.
Sorrow submits to joy.
Death surrenders to victory.
Futility relinquishes to hope.

Freedom indescribable,
unbelievable,
unbreathable. 

 

Right here.

Right now.

Right everything and everywhere.

 

Forever.

And ever.

Jesus rules the sunrise.
Every.
Single.
Time.

Every sunrise remembers this sacredly.

Every sunrise sings this fiercely.

Every sunrise rebirths the earth all new and wild and waiting.

And I am consumed with it!
Reborn in it!
Given all the reckless gifts of it!
Resurrection morning!