Let’s Take a Break

Etymology was a bad idea, today.  Yet here I sit, wondering how it is that words and phrases are fluid and not having enough self-control to avoid writing about it…

I guess this is #MinistryMonday on Tuesday, because it’s going to be that kind of week.

Webster defines “take a break,” as, “to stop doing something for a short period of time: to rest.”  If you want to use it in a sentence, you might say, “I'm tired. Let's take a break.”

Oh goodness, am I ever tired…

Growing up, taking a break sounded something like that moment when you walked outside for a breath of fresh air or decided to listen to one more song between math problems.  As I got older, it was more like the fifteen minute reprieve in the middle of a work day.  I never really wanted to take a full “lunch,” because then I just got home later.  But somehow, these four little words morphed into a declaration of mammoth relational proportions in the past decade.  Taking a break sounds a little more like breaking up now, except maybe unilateral…

I could be over thinking it, but to “take” is to “get into one's hands or into one's possession, power, or control: such as to seize or capture physically… to get possession of.”

That doesn’t seem very relational.

There are a lot of definitions for break, which include, “to separate into parts with suddenness or violence… to cause an open wound… to rupture… to render inoperable… violate… disrupt the order… crush the spirit… cause a sudden and significant decrease in value…”

Um… also not relational.

Hey, let’s take a break!  Let me control how very deeply I damage you.  But don’t worry.  It’s just temporary.  

Something is not right about this.

Now, before anybody really freaks out about this post, I have to tell you that the whole thing began when I simply said to myself, “I really need to take a break from social media, but I can’t figure out how.”

I admit that sounds at least mildly pitiful, but my problem is that all of my ministry related social media feeds are linked to my personal stuff, so if I take a break from all the drama and debate and crap, I also have to take a break from the blogging and podcasting and editing and vocational interaction, so it legitimately doesn’t work for me… unless I assume a pseudonym or something.  I think this might be the part where even though I preach transparency (or at least translucency), I encourage every person in ministry to create a fake ID, set up a Swiss bank account, and buy a believable mask…

OK, tempting, but not really.

I wonder, though, if taking a break from people also causes us to neglect all of the good, important, life giving pieces we should be embracing.  Ah… there’s the application.

Living uncompartmentalized and holistically is so much harder than I thought it would be…

L.

Success

Ecclesiastes 11:6, "Sow your seed in the morning, and at evening let your hands not be idle, for you do not know which will succeed, whether this or that or whether both will do equally well" (NIV).

Sometimes I feel like I spread myself a little thin.  And then I complain about it.  And then I take on something else.  As I read this verse from Ecclesiastes, it occurred to me that this may be exactly the reason why I do this.  Seriously, who knows where success really lies?

There are definitely moments in which I wish I didn't care about success.  Anyone who knows me well knows that my definition is skewed just enough that if I ever "make it", it probably won't be noticeable to anyone else, anyway.  But I do care.  Maybe too much.  Maybe way too much.

And yet, I think we are supposed to live well.  It wouldn't make much sense to do things in such a way that we hope they don't work out, or, maybe worse yet, to do nothing at all.

So we work in the morning... and we work in the evening... 

Sabbath is good.  Sabbath is necessary and right.  But there are six more days in the week, and there is much work to be done.

 
L.

Paint

I've always wanted to go to one of those painting parties.  The idea was super exciting in my head.  Today I finally made it to one, and then I remembered...  I can't paint...

I consider myself a relatively creative person and even artistic by some definitions.  However, the actual acts of drawing and painting have eluded me.  It's probably why most of my kids' early childhood art is either some creative version of a handprint or free form... very free form.  I can make stick figures... sort of.  But the truth is, I'm better with a camera or on the stage. 

I'm not sure an introverted perfectionist who sometimes has had trouble comparing herself with others, lately, could choose a more vulnerable activity than a painting party.  It's a good thing somebody told me how intimidating I am at the preceding brunch.  Because, the facade...  yeah, there's that... always that...

So, I'm really intrigued by the results of these parties.  Frequently, the participants post a picture of the finished products their groups have created.  Interestingly, even though everybody follows the same directions, and there is an example, and a live artist/instructor actually shows you every... single... step; no two paintings ever look the same.  And yet, they all turn out alright.

I took comfort in that, today.  I sat down in front of an empty canvas and thought to myself, "I will probably not be the first person to ever come to one of these parties aspiring to paint a sunflower and accidentally painting a boat or something."  In the end, I did, indeed, come home with a version of "Sunflower at Sunset" over which every single person who lives in my house raved.  It's sitting in close proximity to my "Wake Up, Kick Butt, Repeat" sign... you know, the one that serves as a backdrop for the John Wesley bobblehead.  This post is just  getting way too personal...

I've been talking a lot about how God creates in partnership with people.  There's an interesting parallel here.  Think about this.  What if God creates the canvas and the paints and then we all sit down and start to work on something, given the same basic directions?  What if we all follow those directions the best we can?  What if we all love God with our whole being and love people just like we love ourselves and... also... love ourselves?  I'm willing to bet that your picture will look a whole lot different than mine.  Heck, we might actually end up with sunflowers and boats and abstract designs (may I paint one of those next time)...  But they'll all turn out alright.  And your people will probably even rave.

How about some unity in diversity?

L.

Sabbath

I am diverging from the lectionary, today.  That feels less than liturgical, but Hebrews 4 keeps coming to mind, and although parts of it have been a part of my reading recently, I thought I'd just sit down and read the whole thing tonight.

"There remains, then, a Sabbath-rest for the people of God" (Hebrews 4:9, NIV).

I have never been very good at observing Sabbath on Sundays.  Today was no exception, and that's OK, as long as I observe Sabbath some day.  It seems that it is more natural for me to "binge Sabbath" (that's a thing, because I just made it up).  It is probably something like binge vacationing (I made that up, too).  The problem with this, however, is that we need regular rest.  I have to get better at this, because I know that regular rest is far more refreshing than running until you burn out. 

"God again set a certain day, calling it, 'Today'" (Hebrews 4:7a).

Phrases about, "today," keep showing up.  For a long time, I think I have been focused on yesterday... or tomorrow...  I should probably start using, "today," well.  Perhaps there is time, yet, for today to include Sabbath.

L.

Pause

This has been the busiest summer of my life.  No exaggeration.  No hyperbole.  No kidding.  I was thinking about rehashing it, but come on... nobody really wants to read that.  I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't glad it's almost over.  Summer, that is.  I'm exhausted.

When I sat down to write this post, I had absolutely nothing ministry related to say.  Then it occurred to me that when life is ministry, there's always something to say; even if it's not very profound.  And so here I am, listening to a mix of instrumental music and nature sounds, muted by the voices of my super loud kids who are running through a hotel suite, trying to wind down enough to wind down.

There's a word for this.  It's Sabbath.  We all need it.  So, rest.

L.