"We have lost the ability and time to reflect on our lives today." With these words Ted Runions opened the retreat for the Board of Directors of the Florida Conference United Church of Christ which I recently attended. Everything proceeds at such an accelerated pace, yet we have less time, because we are expected to do more than we used to do. He reminded us that a “retreat” is a gift of time to stop, reflect, and think about what we are doing, why we are doing it, and how it is done. His opening comments reminded me of the purpose of a sabbatical. They also brought to mind how much I treasured and enjoyed the four-month gift of time to do just that in my own life. The longer I am back, the more I try to schedule and create such a time to reflect on my own life in the regular schedule of my days with increasing difficulty and frustration, the more I realize what a truly precious gift were those four months in 2008. Increasingly I feel like the crazy woodpecker who has taken to beating his head against the window in front of my desk. The bird must see its reflection and is either attacking this "other" bird which it feels is a threat, or is trying to make contact, but just keeps banging into this hard glass. I keep trying to find time in my daily routine to write in my journal, or write on my blog, or just sit and think. But it just does not happen. My days are filled with work duties, family duties, and when there appears to be time in the evening, I am often just too tired to focus beyond the television, or bed. I am very thankful that I keep finding small blocks of time, like my father's funeral weekend, or this Board of Director's Retreat weekend, to step away from my regular schedule. And I do some reflecting during those times. But it does not feel as if they are enough to deeply, richly feed my soul.
The Board of Directors' retreat was a sort of mini-sabbatical. Not only did it allow time for reflecting on the work of the Board and on my role with the Board, but the facilitator also helped us identify our Myers-Briggs Personality Types (I am an INFJ) toward the end of helping us clarify the personality of the Board of Directors and giving us some insight how this information can help in our work and functioning as a group. This personal information, however, also provided me an opportunity to engage in some personal reflection. I gained some new insight and recalled some old insight, into my personality type and I was able to reflect somewhat on why I am the way I am and revisit some understanding about how I function and what it most healthy for me. For instance, it was reinforced for me one more time, in one more way, that as an "I" (introvert) type, I draw my energy from time alone. Thus, it is vitally important for me to have quiet time to reflect, to be alone, in order to be re-energized. My daily solo walks are important. Time to write would be a very important positive exercise for me. I have been learning and claiming all these insights in many ways the past 8 months. This was one more confirmation about this self-knowledge. The trick is, as I initially stated, finding and claiming the time to commit to these activities.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
A Different Type of Sabbath Time
Sabbath time it definitely is. But it is such a strange type of sabbath time. I am speaking of the period of time we take for initial mourning and grieving when a loved one dies. I totally understand why it is necessary. I learned early on Tuesday morning, February 17th, that my father had died at about 6:00 a.m. Central Standard Time in Mountain Home, Arkansas. For the next three days I had to make arrangements to travel to Mountain Home; contact family members who would want to know the news; take care of details at work for me to be absent on a Sunday morning and for 5 days total; and cover some of my regular work duties for those three days. All of that I did, but with a lot of distraction. My mind constantly wandered. I found it very difficult to remain focused. And I was not always distracted by thoughts of my father. Sometimes, I was. Sometimes it was thoughts of my mother, who has been dead for 10 years. Sometimes, I could not tell you what it was, other than my mind would just wander and I did not have the energy, or desire, to stay focused on one task for a very long time.
So, I fully understand the need we have as human beings, as spiritual beings, as emotional creatures, for sabbath time, down time, grieving time. Not that we can wrap up all of the grieving we might need to do in a few days. But, it is important for us to spend this time doing very little. It is important to spend time gathering with family we might not have seen for years. It is important to spend time allowing our minds to wander, for memories to surface and be reflected upon and rehearsed and sat with. It is important to spend time sharing stories about our deceased loved one, about our childhoods, about our separate and joint experiences with the one we are missing.
Sabbath time is a time for renewal. It is also a time to honor God. And during this type of sabbath time, our grieving sabbath, we honor God by honoring the loved one who has died. By stopping our regular lives, our regular routines, we say to the world, and to ourselves, "This person was important in my life, to me. The loss of this person needs to be marked and remembered. The life of this person needs to be celebrated and honored with respect and love. This person is a child of God and their life needs to be celebrated and given back to God with gratitude and thanksgiving." All of this we say through our action of taking sabbath time to mourn, grieve, and celebrate.
All this I am taking time for right now in Mountain Home, Arkansas and St. Louis, Missouri. All this I am engaged in with my brothers and sisters, uncles and friends of my father, and with the support of my wife, Dianne, and the support of many myriad prayers being lifted up for me and my family by family and friends and colleagues and church members not present physically, but clearly felt spiritually. This is a very different type of Sabbath, but it is every bit as important as regular weekly sabbath time and periodic Sabbatical time. And it is a gift, one which I treasure.
So, I fully understand the need we have as human beings, as spiritual beings, as emotional creatures, for sabbath time, down time, grieving time. Not that we can wrap up all of the grieving we might need to do in a few days. But, it is important for us to spend this time doing very little. It is important to spend time gathering with family we might not have seen for years. It is important to spend time allowing our minds to wander, for memories to surface and be reflected upon and rehearsed and sat with. It is important to spend time sharing stories about our deceased loved one, about our childhoods, about our separate and joint experiences with the one we are missing.
Sabbath time is a time for renewal. It is also a time to honor God. And during this type of sabbath time, our grieving sabbath, we honor God by honoring the loved one who has died. By stopping our regular lives, our regular routines, we say to the world, and to ourselves, "This person was important in my life, to me. The loss of this person needs to be marked and remembered. The life of this person needs to be celebrated and honored with respect and love. This person is a child of God and their life needs to be celebrated and given back to God with gratitude and thanksgiving." All of this we say through our action of taking sabbath time to mourn, grieve, and celebrate.
All this I am taking time for right now in Mountain Home, Arkansas and St. Louis, Missouri. All this I am engaged in with my brothers and sisters, uncles and friends of my father, and with the support of my wife, Dianne, and the support of many myriad prayers being lifted up for me and my family by family and friends and colleagues and church members not present physically, but clearly felt spiritually. This is a very different type of Sabbath, but it is every bit as important as regular weekly sabbath time and periodic Sabbatical time. And it is a gift, one which I treasure.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Pastor as Poet Needs Time for Reflection
Since returning from my Sabbatical there has been an increasing restlessness and dis-ease in my soul. I returned to work with renewed energy. I was well rested; my mind and my spirit were rejuvenated. My stress level was greatly lowered and my ability to cope with stress without unhealthy reactions was improved.
However, as I move further along in my work as pastor, I find it difficult to keep my attention and my energy focused. Initially I attributed this to the difficulty of returning to work routine after four months away from that routine. But it has been three-plus months back at the routine (almost as long as the entire sabbatical had been) and those difficulties persist, instead of lessening.
Today I read an article on the Christian Century web-site which struck a chord deep within and perhaps begins to help me identify something of what may be going on. The article is excerpted from M. Craig Barnes's book The Pastor as Minor Poet, published by Eerdmans. Barnes teaches at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and he presents another way of viewing the role and work of the local church pastor: as a poet. He is not advocating for us to write verse, but rather describing our calling with the analogy. Here is a brief excerpt from the article.
In contrast to the biblical and theological poets, the pastoral poet has the unique calling of making sense of their words in light of the dust and grit of daily life in a parish. And unlike those whom society has traditionally revered as poets, whose vision of the deeper reality is nurtured through quiet sanctuary, if not isolation, the pastor-poet lives with a crowded and noisy soul. Central to what it means to be ordained is to open the doors of one's soul to the complexities, pathos, longings and even sins of those the pastor has vowed to serve.
At the same time, the pastor is even more attentive to the unapparent presence of God among the people of the congregation. One of the reasons that people need pastors is precisely that God is always present but usually not apparent. It takes a poet to find that presence beneath the layers of strategy for coping with the feeling of its absence. Thus, the parish minister's soul becomes a crucible in which sacred visions are ground together with the common and at times profane experiences of human life. Out of this sacred mix, pastors find their deep poetry, not only for the pulpit but also for making eternal sense out of the ordinary routines of the congregation.
Pastors' days are filled with committee meetings that never end and accomplish little; confirmation classes with kids who can't be cool unless they look bored; races across town to make a hospital call, only to discover that the patient was just discharged (You're not getting credit for this one); counseling sessions with people who don't like their jobs but can't afford to quit them because they need them to afford lifestyles they don't really like either; funerals where they fight back their tears long enough to lead worship; weddings where they fight back aggressive photographers; conflicts with people who just won't leave the church; and the relentless return of Sundays that demand another profound sermon. And through it all, the attentive pastor is constantly spinning the poetry, helping the congregation to see the sacred subtext of their lives.
As poets, pastors are always looking for a portal that invites passage into a deeper, more mysterious—and thus true—understanding of what is seen. …
What if, instead of working so hard at omnicompetence, pastors were free to work hard simply at being better poets? And is it possible that the call to parish ministry can come not at the expense of our souls, but at their delight—the joy known only by those who can behold mystery and truth at work just beneath the surface of all the belief and all the reality of parish life?
One of the things learned on my sabbatical was the importance for me, as pastor, to have time to reflect on life, on the world, on the church. Without realizing it, I tapped into the importance of the pastor as poet, who “is always looking for a portal that invites passage into a deeper, more mysterious – and thus true – understanding of what is seen.” But to nurture that role, we need time. And the modern pastoral schedule does not allow for that sort of reflective, meditative, time. I am usually lucky to find a few minutes a day for quiet prayer! (Actually, I have been very good about maintaining the discipline of my daily four mile walk to the bay which provides me about 80 minutes of solitude and quiet time for prayer and meditation as I walk. It may also be part of the time necessary for me to use for poetic reflection.)
It is not easy to reclaim one’s schedule in order to direct it more for “poetic reflection” than for “technocratic managerial” tasks. Everything in our culture entices us and draws us toward “omnicompetence” and a technician mentality that approaches life as a problem for which we just need to identify the right solution, the right formula to correct and improve it, the right script.
The attitude and view of the poet, however, is an embracing of life to fully drink it in, fully absorb it, and then begin to understand the deeper meanings above, below, and within. Life is not a problem to be corrected, but a wonderful ride, or marvelous adventure, to be experienced fully through complete and total immersion. The poet does not shy away from pain, or try to mask or cover-up the sorrow and suffering, but embraces these experiences, too, as fully part of what it means to be alive.
Perhaps my restlessness arises from a need deep in my soul for this sort of exploration and embracing of life. While on sabbatical I uncovered once again my love for writing, especially free-flowing, reflective writing, and I discovered how nurturing this practice is for my soul. Since I have been back to work it has been difficult to find the time to spend at my computer, or with my journal, pen in hand, and just write freely about … anything… and everything. Whether my schedule and responsibilities allow for me to fully do so or not, clearly I need to consciously commit to nurturing my poet!
However, as I move further along in my work as pastor, I find it difficult to keep my attention and my energy focused. Initially I attributed this to the difficulty of returning to work routine after four months away from that routine. But it has been three-plus months back at the routine (almost as long as the entire sabbatical had been) and those difficulties persist, instead of lessening.
Today I read an article on the Christian Century web-site which struck a chord deep within and perhaps begins to help me identify something of what may be going on. The article is excerpted from M. Craig Barnes's book The Pastor as Minor Poet, published by Eerdmans. Barnes teaches at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and he presents another way of viewing the role and work of the local church pastor: as a poet. He is not advocating for us to write verse, but rather describing our calling with the analogy. Here is a brief excerpt from the article.
In contrast to the biblical and theological poets, the pastoral poet has the unique calling of making sense of their words in light of the dust and grit of daily life in a parish. And unlike those whom society has traditionally revered as poets, whose vision of the deeper reality is nurtured through quiet sanctuary, if not isolation, the pastor-poet lives with a crowded and noisy soul. Central to what it means to be ordained is to open the doors of one's soul to the complexities, pathos, longings and even sins of those the pastor has vowed to serve.
At the same time, the pastor is even more attentive to the unapparent presence of God among the people of the congregation. One of the reasons that people need pastors is precisely that God is always present but usually not apparent. It takes a poet to find that presence beneath the layers of strategy for coping with the feeling of its absence. Thus, the parish minister's soul becomes a crucible in which sacred visions are ground together with the common and at times profane experiences of human life. Out of this sacred mix, pastors find their deep poetry, not only for the pulpit but also for making eternal sense out of the ordinary routines of the congregation.
Pastors' days are filled with committee meetings that never end and accomplish little; confirmation classes with kids who can't be cool unless they look bored; races across town to make a hospital call, only to discover that the patient was just discharged (You're not getting credit for this one); counseling sessions with people who don't like their jobs but can't afford to quit them because they need them to afford lifestyles they don't really like either; funerals where they fight back their tears long enough to lead worship; weddings where they fight back aggressive photographers; conflicts with people who just won't leave the church; and the relentless return of Sundays that demand another profound sermon. And through it all, the attentive pastor is constantly spinning the poetry, helping the congregation to see the sacred subtext of their lives.
As poets, pastors are always looking for a portal that invites passage into a deeper, more mysterious—and thus true—understanding of what is seen. …
What if, instead of working so hard at omnicompetence, pastors were free to work hard simply at being better poets? And is it possible that the call to parish ministry can come not at the expense of our souls, but at their delight—the joy known only by those who can behold mystery and truth at work just beneath the surface of all the belief and all the reality of parish life?
One of the things learned on my sabbatical was the importance for me, as pastor, to have time to reflect on life, on the world, on the church. Without realizing it, I tapped into the importance of the pastor as poet, who “is always looking for a portal that invites passage into a deeper, more mysterious – and thus true – understanding of what is seen.” But to nurture that role, we need time. And the modern pastoral schedule does not allow for that sort of reflective, meditative, time. I am usually lucky to find a few minutes a day for quiet prayer! (Actually, I have been very good about maintaining the discipline of my daily four mile walk to the bay which provides me about 80 minutes of solitude and quiet time for prayer and meditation as I walk. It may also be part of the time necessary for me to use for poetic reflection.)
It is not easy to reclaim one’s schedule in order to direct it more for “poetic reflection” than for “technocratic managerial” tasks. Everything in our culture entices us and draws us toward “omnicompetence” and a technician mentality that approaches life as a problem for which we just need to identify the right solution, the right formula to correct and improve it, the right script.
The attitude and view of the poet, however, is an embracing of life to fully drink it in, fully absorb it, and then begin to understand the deeper meanings above, below, and within. Life is not a problem to be corrected, but a wonderful ride, or marvelous adventure, to be experienced fully through complete and total immersion. The poet does not shy away from pain, or try to mask or cover-up the sorrow and suffering, but embraces these experiences, too, as fully part of what it means to be alive.
Perhaps my restlessness arises from a need deep in my soul for this sort of exploration and embracing of life. While on sabbatical I uncovered once again my love for writing, especially free-flowing, reflective writing, and I discovered how nurturing this practice is for my soul. Since I have been back to work it has been difficult to find the time to spend at my computer, or with my journal, pen in hand, and just write freely about … anything… and everything. Whether my schedule and responsibilities allow for me to fully do so or not, clearly I need to consciously commit to nurturing my poet!
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Echoes of South America in the Midwest U.S.
Located in south-central Missouri in the beginning of the Ozarks is the small town of West Plains. After driving for 3 hours from St. Louis I stopped in a local McDonald’s to get some lunch. As I approached the counter my jaw dropped in amazement. There on the menu board, in bold lettering was the title “McCafe.” Underneath the title was a listing of the variety of coffee drinks – cappuccinos, lattes, espressos, etc. – available for purchase. Was I back in Buenos Aires, Argentina?! As I shared with the young woman working the counter, I had never seen a McCafe until I saw them in the McDonald’s in Argentina. She related that they were proud to be the first rural community to have a McCafe. As far as I know, they are the first McDonald’s in the United States to have one. (Although my brother who lives in St. Louis tells me they have been appearing in the St. Louis McDonald's restaurants for the last six months or so.) And just a few months ago, I thought I had discovered something unique which McDonald’s had added just for the South American culture!
That was not the only echo of South America I experienced on that drive, though. As I drove through the Ozarks in southern Missouri and northern Arkansas their appearance reminded me of the drive through the Sacred Valley from Cusco to Ollantaytambo in Peru. That landscape was intriguing because it was clearly an agricultural area, yet the colors were all various shades of yellow, brown and tan. Driving through the Ozarks I was greeted by a palette of various shades of yellow, brown and tan! The trees were bereft of leaves, except for the stands of pines. Mindful that it was winter time and the fields were fallow and dry here, it dawned on me that the fields in Peru were evidently dry and showing the colors of late winter, early springs, before the rains. More than that, though, the topography was also similar, for this was the foothills of the Ozarks with the road running along the tops of a ridge and gentle rolling hills spreading out all around. The Sacred Valley in Peru is a high plain located in the Peruvian Andes, providing a vista of rolling hills spreading out to the mountains that surround the valley.
When Dianne and I were experiencing the Sacred Valley I remember commenting to her how much the views reminded me of Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming. Now I have been reminded of those views in another part of my homeland and it reinforces for me the truth of how much more similar our experiences are throughout the world than different; how similar are our lands; how similar are our dreams; how similar is our world. When we see wonderful sights in our homeland we often yawn at them. When we see similar wonderful sights in another land we label them exotic. Of course they are similar, for the same God created all the world, all people and nations, all the universe. Our similarities as well as our differences should be celebrated. Our common experiences should bind us closer together in common understanding. And we can learn to celebrate the exotic all around us and treasure the beauty we have right outside our doors.
That was not the only echo of South America I experienced on that drive, though. As I drove through the Ozarks in southern Missouri and northern Arkansas their appearance reminded me of the drive through the Sacred Valley from Cusco to Ollantaytambo in Peru. That landscape was intriguing because it was clearly an agricultural area, yet the colors were all various shades of yellow, brown and tan. Driving through the Ozarks I was greeted by a palette of various shades of yellow, brown and tan! The trees were bereft of leaves, except for the stands of pines. Mindful that it was winter time and the fields were fallow and dry here, it dawned on me that the fields in Peru were evidently dry and showing the colors of late winter, early springs, before the rains. More than that, though, the topography was also similar, for this was the foothills of the Ozarks with the road running along the tops of a ridge and gentle rolling hills spreading out all around. The Sacred Valley in Peru is a high plain located in the Peruvian Andes, providing a vista of rolling hills spreading out to the mountains that surround the valley.
When Dianne and I were experiencing the Sacred Valley I remember commenting to her how much the views reminded me of Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming. Now I have been reminded of those views in another part of my homeland and it reinforces for me the truth of how much more similar our experiences are throughout the world than different; how similar are our lands; how similar are our dreams; how similar is our world. When we see wonderful sights in our homeland we often yawn at them. When we see similar wonderful sights in another land we label them exotic. Of course they are similar, for the same God created all the world, all people and nations, all the universe. Our similarities as well as our differences should be celebrated. Our common experiences should bind us closer together in common understanding. And we can learn to celebrate the exotic all around us and treasure the beauty we have right outside our doors.
The pictures above illustrate the similarity between the Ozarks region of southern Missouri and northern Arkansas and the Sacred Valley of Peru. The first picture is a lake in the Sacred Valley and the second picture is Lake Norfork in northern Arkansas. The third picture is the rolling hills of the Ozarks in southern Missouri and the last picture is the rolling hills of the Sacred Valley. As you can tell, my time in South America is still very alive for me.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Incorporating Sabbatical Learnings Not-so-easy!
Sixty-eight days ago I returned to Miami from South America. That is one week shy of how many days I spent in Argentina this year. It has been 59 days since I last posted an entry on this blog. I am struggling with the adaptations and changes to my life that I had hoped to incorporate following my Sabbatical. I returned to Miami a changed person. The problem is, I returned to the same life, the same job, the same church. Old patterns were very easy to slide back into and developing new patterns has been very tough.
Initially I was trying to ease back into work, into the community, into my family. I have spent a lot of quality time with family - paying more attention to my relationship with my wife, going to the NASCAR races at Homestead Speedway with my son one weekend, spending quality time with my daughter who has moved in with us full-time while she works in Miami and applies to law schools. Since I have been home I had the privilege of baptizing my three granddaughters; celebrated a quiet Thanksgiving with my wife, stepdaughter, her husband, and 3-month old baby girl; celebrated my 14th wedding anniversary with my wife by giving her a new dog, (a zukon: a bijon-frise/shih-tzu mixed breed); and of course, celebrated Christmas. That is just the family activity.
In addition the activity at church has slowly accelerated with the holiday season. It has all been good, but very busy and not a time for incorporating changed patterns. What I realize now is that the holiday season already involves changes in our regular living patterns. So, to try to make changes in a changing time is very, very difficult. Probably impossible.
A few things changes that I hoped to make I have made good progress toward implementing. Probably the one thing I have followed through on the best has been a renewed commitment to walking for exercise. One of the changes that took place for me in South America was the loss of 30 lbs. of weight. I had been fighting the "battle of the bulge" in my waist for a decade or more. In Argentina, without an automobile, I walked almost everywhere. I realize now I was walking probably better than 5-6 miles a day on a fairly regular basis. And I was eating healthier. One commitment I wanted to make was to walk 4 miles each morning. That has been difficult with morning breakfast meetings, on-call hours for VITAS Hospice, and a variety of factors. After a couple of weeks of struggling with this commitment, I made a new commitment. To walk 4 miles a day, no matter what time I must do it. So, I began the practice of walking later afternoon approaching sunset, if I was not able to walk at sunrise. As a result, I can now say that for more than a month now I have been walking 4 miles a day, morning or evening, without fail. The result is through the holidays I have been able to keep from gaining weight. (And I have not been all that good about not eating too much as we all tend to do over the holidays.) Now that the holiday binging period is almost complete, I am confident I will be able to maitain my commitment to regular walking exercise and with a return to healthier eating habits, I should be able to lose that final 15 lbs. that will get me to my goal of 185 lbs.
Two other changes I have made that I feel are positive. One is I no longer live by a list at work. Before the Sabbatical I had a practice of making a "to-do" list each Tuesday as I began my week (Mondays being my day off) and scratching off the items on the list as I went through the week. I know this is supposed to be a good time-management technique, but it can also become a constrictive practice. It was so freeing for 4 months to live life without a "to-do" list and so I decided I was not going to make a list when I returned. I have not and so far I do seem to be able to accomplish what I need to do each week. (The truth is, most of what I have to do each week does not vary much and I know what those tasks are and I get them done.) But not having a list staring at me is helping me to stay loose and less stressed.
The second change I have made is a definite reduction in my work hours each week. Before Sabbatical I am sure I was working upwards of 60 hours a week regularly. Now I am definitely below 50. I am not stressing over work as much and I am more relaxed at home. I really do believe I will be able to make some of the other changes I had wanted to make in this New Year. And tomorrow I am going to start by writing another post to my blog and share my "list" of changes for the New Year.
Initially I was trying to ease back into work, into the community, into my family. I have spent a lot of quality time with family - paying more attention to my relationship with my wife, going to the NASCAR races at Homestead Speedway with my son one weekend, spending quality time with my daughter who has moved in with us full-time while she works in Miami and applies to law schools. Since I have been home I had the privilege of baptizing my three granddaughters; celebrated a quiet Thanksgiving with my wife, stepdaughter, her husband, and 3-month old baby girl; celebrated my 14th wedding anniversary with my wife by giving her a new dog, (a zukon: a bijon-frise/shih-tzu mixed breed); and of course, celebrated Christmas. That is just the family activity.
In addition the activity at church has slowly accelerated with the holiday season. It has all been good, but very busy and not a time for incorporating changed patterns. What I realize now is that the holiday season already involves changes in our regular living patterns. So, to try to make changes in a changing time is very, very difficult. Probably impossible.
A few things changes that I hoped to make I have made good progress toward implementing. Probably the one thing I have followed through on the best has been a renewed commitment to walking for exercise. One of the changes that took place for me in South America was the loss of 30 lbs. of weight. I had been fighting the "battle of the bulge" in my waist for a decade or more. In Argentina, without an automobile, I walked almost everywhere. I realize now I was walking probably better than 5-6 miles a day on a fairly regular basis. And I was eating healthier. One commitment I wanted to make was to walk 4 miles each morning. That has been difficult with morning breakfast meetings, on-call hours for VITAS Hospice, and a variety of factors. After a couple of weeks of struggling with this commitment, I made a new commitment. To walk 4 miles a day, no matter what time I must do it. So, I began the practice of walking later afternoon approaching sunset, if I was not able to walk at sunrise. As a result, I can now say that for more than a month now I have been walking 4 miles a day, morning or evening, without fail. The result is through the holidays I have been able to keep from gaining weight. (And I have not been all that good about not eating too much as we all tend to do over the holidays.) Now that the holiday binging period is almost complete, I am confident I will be able to maitain my commitment to regular walking exercise and with a return to healthier eating habits, I should be able to lose that final 15 lbs. that will get me to my goal of 185 lbs.
Two other changes I have made that I feel are positive. One is I no longer live by a list at work. Before the Sabbatical I had a practice of making a "to-do" list each Tuesday as I began my week (Mondays being my day off) and scratching off the items on the list as I went through the week. I know this is supposed to be a good time-management technique, but it can also become a constrictive practice. It was so freeing for 4 months to live life without a "to-do" list and so I decided I was not going to make a list when I returned. I have not and so far I do seem to be able to accomplish what I need to do each week. (The truth is, most of what I have to do each week does not vary much and I know what those tasks are and I get them done.) But not having a list staring at me is helping me to stay loose and less stressed.
The second change I have made is a definite reduction in my work hours each week. Before Sabbatical I am sure I was working upwards of 60 hours a week regularly. Now I am definitely below 50. I am not stressing over work as much and I am more relaxed at home. I really do believe I will be able to make some of the other changes I had wanted to make in this New Year. And tomorrow I am going to start by writing another post to my blog and share my "list" of changes for the New Year.
(The pictures I have posted include "Miami Snow on Christmas Day" [actually just foam on the water of the bay at sunrise], the NASCAR race, baptizing my granddaughters, and sunrise over Biscayne Bay on one of my morning walks.)
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Re-entry at Christ Congregational Church
After two days back at work, I am, so far, working my plan to re-enter slowly. Yesterday, November 1, was my first official day back at work, off of sabbatical. The telephone started ringing in the morning, so obviously people were counting the days until I was off of sabbatical. (But I must commend them for they clearly respected the sabbatical and did not call me while I was away.) Dianne and I took the early part of the day and drove to Key Largo, in the Florida Keys, primarily to run the errand of visiting Shell World to buy some special sea shells for the baptism of our granddaughters coming up November 9, but the real reason was to spend some more down time with each other and have a nice lunch on the water. It was a beautiful day and while it was not South America it did allow us some fantasy time of still feeling like we were still on sabbatical or vacation. The drive was relaxing, Shell World provided a large selection of shells from which to choose shells not only for next Sunday's baptism, but also a supply for future baptism ceremonies. We enjoyed a very relaxed lunch at Sundowner's on Florida Bay with up-close visits by sea gulls and a white heron.
After returning home I enjoyed the end of the Miami Hurricane football game as they beat University of Virginia in overtime and then watched the University of Florida Gators beat the Georgia Bulldogs, supporting my daughter's Alma mater and vicariously enjoying the game with her through mutual text messages. Then Dianne and I went to the 3 C's Preschool Harvest Festival which had been postponed a week due to weather. I was warmly greeted by people we saw who knew us and was a nice preview of the welcome home we received on Sunday morning.
Sunday morning has come and gone. It was very comfortable for me to lead worship. It should not have been a surprise to me, as I have been leading worship, with others or alone, at least 46 weeks out of 52 for the past 28 years. As Dianne reminded me as I went out the door this morning, "It's just like riding a bike!" (That chestnut is as well-worn as every piece of meat out of the ordinary supposedly "tasting like chicken.") But I was a little concerned if I would remember what to do and what to say. As it turned out, I did not even think very much about the words I say at Communion when I break the bread and pour the juice, but they came to me at the time I needed them without even thinking about what they needed to be and the benediction words, I did not stumble over them at all. I guess my wife is right! The experience of leading both times of worship was very natural and felt very familiar. Plus I did not stress over it and handled it with grace and professionalism. It seems the sabbatical did help. Plus I had many people commenting on how rested and rejuvenated I appeared.
The question will be to see how long the affect lasts. I was asked what I planned to do to keep refreshed and I shared my thoughts on what now be my focus as pastor. I realize I did way too much as pastor before the sabbatical, and I do not want to fall back into those patterns. So I plan to focus on four areas:
1. Plan and lead worship
2. Prepare and present a sermon
3. Offer pastor care as the people need it
4. Offer leadership, in supporting their work as the people of God and helping to focus the work of the mission of the church.
I also plan to make writing in my journal a regular part of my life. One of my members who teaches Spanish in high school has offered to help me keep up my Spanish with regular tutoring and I plan to accept her offer. Several members have offered to help me practice my Spanish and I plan to do that as well. I certainly hope these practices will help me remain rejuvenated and not approach burn-out status quickly as work responsibilities accumulate. Stay tuned!
Friday, October 31, 2008
The Final Day of Sabbatical
Sitting in my home in Miami, on the last day of my Sabbatical, I am drinking the espresso I made (which does not even begin to approach the marvelous quality of the coffee I enjoyed in Argentina.) I have been home for six days and South America has begun to feel like a hazy dream. It truly was a dream life I enjoyed for 12 weeks. I never would have imagined I would fall so deeply in love with that continent and those countries, Argentina and Peru. I can begin to understand, I think, why British and European travelers fell in love with places like Africa and Asia. It is related to the exotic, yet familiar, nature of new lands. It is related to the level of hospitality one encounters from the local people (always a surprise, for we have this inbred idea that other people, especially foreign people, are never as warm, welcoming and hospitable as we are ourselves.) It is related to one's willingness to invest oneself in a locale and truly embrace it as a home. It is related to the good experiences one has and whether they outweigh the bad. It is related to one's ability to fit in to the culture, to embrace the language, to understand the thinking of the local people. When all of these factors come together in a positive manner, then one will find oneself in a new home, where one feels quite welcome and an integral part of the community, not just an outsider. You discover the place becoming a part of you and you a part of it. That certainly happened for me with Argentina.
It is perhaps the most amazing event of this sabbatical. Although, actually learning to understand and speak the Spanish language in just 12 weeks time is certainly an amazing feat for me, considering my struggle with learning other languages in more traditional educational settings in the United States. Before this sabbatical, I had never really thought much about South America. I was aware of it. I knew people from various countries in the region. I had enjoyed many different movies set in South America and I had a vague sense of the history of the region. But I never had a strong attraction or desire to visit. There were always so many other more exotic, more interesting places on my list. So it was actually quite serendipitous that I chose Argentina as the location for my sabbatical and now I am so glad that I did. In 10 weeks time it became a second home, a second country, for me and it will always have a very special place in my heart.
Now I am engaged in the task of reconnecting with my life in Miami. It is clear to me that I am in a stage of withdrawal and mourning from my life in Argentina. I cooked parilla for my wife and daughter one night, grilling vegetables and a piece of vacio (an Argentine cut of steak I actually found in Publix) and it felt familiar and almost as good as the Argentine grills. I have been eating Argentine and Peruvian chocolate I brought home and looking for ways to order more or find it here in Miami! I have been trying different roasts of coffee beans to find the rich, espresso roast I enjoyed in Argentina. I have been buying various Malbec wines from various Argentine wineries, looking for the quality I enjoyed in country.
Even as I try to hold on to my experiences in Argentina, I have begun to reconnect with my life in Miami. I have played golf at least once and it was good. The four-month lay-off does not seem to have hurt my swing. I have spent most of my time with my family and I have been catching up on chores around the house which needed attention. Today is the official last day of the sabbatical and tomorrow I officially return to work. Sunday I return to leading worship and I understand a Bienvenido a Tu Casa luncheon has been planned for after worship. It will be a joy to see the folks of the church and to begin reconnecting with them. In truth, I have the feeling the sabbatical will continue to unfold and even though today is the official end, the impact and affects of the sabbatical will continue for months to come.
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