I have been in full time ministry for 24 years. Wow. That doesn’t seem possible. Actually, that is almost half my life.
Mostly, I am grateful for every second — even the most challenging moments have taught me more about myself, others and most importantly about the grace, mercy and love of our Creator through the person of Jesus Christ than I ever could have imagined.
I have felt the presence of the Holy Spirit in my life daily and know that ministry of any kind would not work at all without the Spirit’s guidance. I am dumbfounded when I look back at all the ways I have grown and the people I have met along the way, as well as the many ways I continue to fall short of who God created me to be both as a minister and as a person.
Eli Withers
I know I still have far to go. Additionally, I take great comfort in the idea that there is no one called by God into this broken and beautiful work of ministry who is without fault.
Also, I am tired.
With these words, I reached out to our Finance Committee seeking funding for my sabbatical (having not received the renewal grant for which I had applied). You know that line we walk as ministers — being transparent as my beloved spirituality professor Glenn Hinson taught us, while at the same time being cautious and caring about TMI. Like other human beings, I have my own physical, emotional and, yes, even spiritual issues.
And besides all that, the world has just felt quite heavy to me (to us all, I would imagine). I heard one of the twentysomethings at our church say recently, “What I wouldn’t give to live in precedented times!” Hear! Hear!
There have been many people in our church, as in others, who are dealing with serious illnesses or working to heal from difficult procedures, there are students trying to discern the God-ordained direction of their lives, families holding on to one another by a thread — and on and on it goes.
I have come to see that a large part of ministry is simply (or not so simply) to help others carry what they are lugging around from day to day. Now, I can’t guarantee this is how you would be taught to minister in a seminary classroom, but for good or ill, that is often how it has come to feel to me. And in helping so many others carry around their burdens in addition to my own, I sometimes feel weighed down.
“In helping so many others carry around their burdens in addition to my own, I sometimes feel weighed down.”
The obvious answer would be what any minister worth her salt would say to her congregation: “Lay it at the cross.” Give it to Jesus. You do not have to carry this alone, not the stuff of others and not even your own stuff.
Long story short, after many, many months of ideas, research, conversations, committee meetings, several approvals and planning, preparing and finding appropriate covering for the time I would be away — eventually the time came. Three complete months of rest, renewal and renovation (see notes on Dallas Willard momentarily) as well as study, discernment and prep for returning freshly rejuvenated with new ideas and much energy.
I had given a ridiculous amount of thought into what my heart, soul, spirit and body most needed during this time away, but when that first day came, I wasn’t sure I still knew exactly what that was.
The night before the sabbatical officially began, our senior pastor, Matt Winters, led the church in a holy time of prayer and blessing for my send off. Small groups of four or five attendees came forward so I could serve them Communion face to face. In the quiet moments that followed, they offered their own words of blessing to me.
As Matt pointed out to me in the middle of all of this, “I feel like we need to take off our shoes because this is holy ground.” I don’t think there could be any better description of the service than that.
And then, off I went. But I noticed the closer I got to that first day, the more I wondered if I was even going to be able to do this properly. What if, after all this, I am not as rested and renewed as we’re all expecting me to be? What if the emotional, physical and spiritual struggles I’ve been experiencing recently haven’t subsided as we’ve hoped? What if the tanks of the enormous amounts of soulful energy it takes to minister well to others are not as full as we need them to be on the other side of this?
“The closer I got to that first day, the more I wondered if I was even going to be able to do this properly.”
Throughout this process I carried words from Matthew 11 (specifically from The Message) with me:
Tired? (check) Worn out? (check) Burned out on religion? (check) “Get away with me,” Jesus says. “Take a real rest. Let’s take a walk together. Let’s work this out. You need to remember that you can’t just shove grace in the places where it doesn’t fit — where no one makes space for it. I want you to know, the unforced rhythms of grace. … I want you to live into my abundance. I want you to live freely and lightly every single day.” (check)
I continue carrying those words today.
So with a strong foundation of love, prayer and tremendous support from my congregation, I head into unchartered territory. Yes, I will travel. Yes, I will spend inordinate amounts of time outside. Yes, I will read (Scripture and frivolous books and challenging books and blog posts and articles) and I will write. Yes, I will make art. And I will sleep. And I will exercise and eat well. I will explore the growing varieties of ministry through art that are growing in so many places — new and old — and consider how our church might create our own very intentional art ministry. I will pray. And then pray some more. And I will take time to breathe deeply in the Spirit in a way many of us are too rushed to do on any given day. And I will daily trust God through this process in ways I often let slip away from me. This is also a time of reminders.
Philosopher and writer Dallas Willard wrote in 2002 that “the greatest need you and I have — the greatest need of collective humanity — is renovation of our hearts. That spiritual place within us from which outlook, choices and actions come has been formed by a world away from God. Now it must be transformed.”
This sabbatical is the exquisite gift of time Harrisonburg Baptist Church has given me in order that I might intentionally seek renovation of my own gentle, worn out and weary heart. I will check in with you along the way. But for now, I simply say thank you.
Eli Withers serves as associate pastor of Harrisonburg Baptist Church in the Shenandoah Valley region of Virginia. She enjoys watching movies, reading books, playing with art and being outside – especially wherever there are wildflowers.