Sometimes, the day after my husband and I have a fight, I feel like I’m going to puke all day.
That was Friday.
Because coming home from a month off means that you have five weeks worth of work to do in the first week back.
And that’s the honest-to-goodness truth.
The church can’t hire a temp to do the work of a pastor. There’s no back-up guy who can cover you for that long, either. It is no simple task to sabbatical. It is a leap of faith.
Here’s how the week broke down:
Sunday: Travel home. This is like a deep inhale, where you muster up the courage to make the journey back to responsibility and you try not to cry too much on the plane.
Monday: Decompression. Unpack. Laundry. Groceries. This was a brief exhale.
Tuesday: Too many emails to write. Too many events to plan. Too many thoughts to think.
Wednesday: Still too many emails. Too many texts. Too many problems. Head spinning all day.
Thursday: Too many. Too much. Oh, the stress. Get in a good, solid fight. Halfway make up. Go to bed.
Friday: Make an old fashioned revival tent out of the long days. Come to Jesus. Feel like throwing up all day. Cook delicious food for dinner, play cards with the kids, kiss Mr. Fantastic. Deep exhale.
Oh, but Jesus does love this brand of crazy in our lives. He gives thanks for our too few loaves and fishes. He sees our near-burn-out emotions and sets a flame in their midst for Him alone. He calls us out on oceans and He rises above the waves. We can only do this life of faith properly with our eyes on Him.
So, He pushes the boat out a little farther from the shore.
Saturday night the nervousness for the upcoming week choked the sleep right out of me. By Sunday afternoon, the tell-tale signs of anxiety were in full force.
This is what’s difficult: Following Jesus and doing hard things.
This is what He’s asking of us: To trust and obey Him.
It’s Monday again and my hands are raised in praise. I choose thankfulness for the mess, for the not-enough, for the friends who love me beyond my limitations, and for the God who speaks faith above the choppy waters. I choose vulnerability because it breathes life and hope into a fallen world. I seek the counsel of those wiser than I, and the Love that casts out all fear.
This road of terrifying faith is the one I choose to walk. It leads to God, to peace, to healthy souls living set free.
Sabbaticalling is over, and it’s time to fight for God’s Kingdom to reign in my life. Bring on the crazy week, Lord. It’s going to be all Jesus up in here.
