This past Sunday, February 5th, I completed the first month of my sabbatical. Thus far, my time away from work has been spent 1) tending to my relationship with God as I took 5 days for a silent retreat at a hermitage outside St. Joseph, 2) tending to my deepest friendships as I spent time in Salt Lake City with my best friends skiing - and other stuff, 3) tending to my relationship with family as I shared special meals with my parents, and many consecutive meals with my wife and kids... "Dad doesn't have any evening meetings this week... or next week... or the week after that!" 4) and tending to my marriage as Carla and I spent her pre-birthday week in Mexico - without the aforementioned kids. Blissful. And speaking of bliss... I have also been spending my time acclimating to our sabbatical home in Hopetown, Elbow Cay, Abaco - in the Bahamas. (It's actually not that hard to get used to Abaco in January!)
Perhaps all this travel and transition explains why I have neglected to blog during the first month. Or maybe I should just admit... I didn't really feel like blogging. And yet I have much to share! I hope this blog will be a way to celebrate the gifts God gives when we human do-ers take time to be.
Already, I have remembered things about myself, re-discovered things about God, and fallen in deeper love with those people and interests that have become too distant over the course of my overactive life. Each week - or perhaps twice a week - I will share a couple pictures, and a few thoughts about the theme of my sabbatical: 'The Faithful Use of Time'.
#1: Saying Goodbye is a Faithful Use of Time
My sabbatical may have officially started January 5, but my physical absence from work was not the only way to measure the beginning of the experience. Preparations for our living situation began more than a year ago. Shifting the kids out of their schools and completing the enrollment paperwork in Abaco brought a dose of reality this past Fall. But more than anything, what made me feel like my sabbatical was truly beginning were the many goodbyes I received throughout the month of December.
At each 'last' meeting I had, members of teams offered words of encouragement, asked great questions about my own expectations and thanked me for another year of service at First. At each of the four funerals that month family members and luncheon servers shared their genuine excitement for my time of rest. Whether it was worship on a Sunday morning or Wednesday evening, the kids' Christmas program or Christmas Eve, there were so many hardy handshakes given followed by a smile and more words of love. That's what I especially noticed about these goodbyes. In the special notes and gifts I received; in the drop-in visits to my office; in the 'out-of-the-blue' e-mails and phone calls, I heard many forms of "we love you and your family." That's what a goodbye is for, after all: a last chance to share love with someone you care about before a time of separation.
I hadn't felt the love of goodbyes like this since Christmas of 2007 when I left my first call in Cashton for First Lutheran in Onalaska. That December - nine years ago - was the most painful month of my life because those goodbyes were not said with a return in mind. They were said with finality. A cherished part of my life was passing away. A new chapter was being born. And as in all deaths and births, there was grief and pain before the peace and joy. Then, as now, goodbyes included stories and thoughts that are never otherwise said. One could bemoan the fact that we typically don't say these words of thanks and love and encouragement other than before a time of separation. But I am simply thankful that these moments happen at all. I'm not too picky about when, exactly.
The best part, of course, about this time of 'goodbyes' is that there is no finality behind the well-wishing. The mutual love-sharing that preceded my sabbatical was not a period at the end of a chapter. Instead, it was a comma in the middle of a much longer story. For however long I serve First Lutheran, the goodbyes of December 2016 will hold a special place in my soul.
Thank you to the many who went out of their way to say goodbye. It was a faithful use of your time!
My sabbatical may have officially started January 5, but my physical absence from work was not the only way to measure the beginning of the experience. Preparations for our living situation began more than a year ago. Shifting the kids out of their schools and completing the enrollment paperwork in Abaco brought a dose of reality this past Fall. But more than anything, what made me feel like my sabbatical was truly beginning were the many goodbyes I received throughout the month of December.
At each 'last' meeting I had, members of teams offered words of encouragement, asked great questions about my own expectations and thanked me for another year of service at First. At each of the four funerals that month family members and luncheon servers shared their genuine excitement for my time of rest. Whether it was worship on a Sunday morning or Wednesday evening, the kids' Christmas program or Christmas Eve, there were so many hardy handshakes given followed by a smile and more words of love. That's what I especially noticed about these goodbyes. In the special notes and gifts I received; in the drop-in visits to my office; in the 'out-of-the-blue' e-mails and phone calls, I heard many forms of "we love you and your family." That's what a goodbye is for, after all: a last chance to share love with someone you care about before a time of separation.
I hadn't felt the love of goodbyes like this since Christmas of 2007 when I left my first call in Cashton for First Lutheran in Onalaska. That December - nine years ago - was the most painful month of my life because those goodbyes were not said with a return in mind. They were said with finality. A cherished part of my life was passing away. A new chapter was being born. And as in all deaths and births, there was grief and pain before the peace and joy. Then, as now, goodbyes included stories and thoughts that are never otherwise said. One could bemoan the fact that we typically don't say these words of thanks and love and encouragement other than before a time of separation. But I am simply thankful that these moments happen at all. I'm not too picky about when, exactly.
The best part, of course, about this time of 'goodbyes' is that there is no finality behind the well-wishing. The mutual love-sharing that preceded my sabbatical was not a period at the end of a chapter. Instead, it was a comma in the middle of a much longer story. For however long I serve First Lutheran, the goodbyes of December 2016 will hold a special place in my soul. Thank you to the many who went out of their way to say goodbye. It was a faithful use of your time!
Love and miss you Jason, your beautiful in every way wife and children who are a gift to all of us. So happy for the journey you are on and how we are and will continue to grow with you.
ReplyDeleteJust a reminder of how much we love you and your family. What I love most is you are "getting into it"! Sometimes it can be so hard to just "be" and to take the time to be present in our relationships. I know my mind and attention have been elsewhere. So this is a great reminder for me to come back to center too. Thanks!
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