It’s summer time, and the living is easy! Well, not exactly. Not in ministry. But for many church leaders, the pace is somewhat slower. Over the summer small groups re-group. Fall initiatives are planned. We may even begin to plan for Christmas. There’s work to be done, but generally speaking, it’s not as intense. Not as “hands-on.”
I worked through a long series of challenging end-of-the-ministry-year commitments in the month of May. All of them were energizing to me personally, and successful according to participants. Just what we prayed for.
But amid those ministry moments lurked additional challenges: medical drama, end-of-school complexities, relatives visiting, siblings in crisis, and even the sudden death of a close co-worker’s father. Behind-the-scenes chaos.
Why am I dumping all of this? One simple reason: I suspect your life is no different. You too have made it through the end of the ministry season. And in the midst of the high-fives, “only God” victories and great joys, you’ve also experienced bewildering challenges at home and among friends. Maybe you’ve even had a few medical glitches to keep you on your toes.
And, by God’s grace, we persevere. We show up and serve and lead and give and nurture and guide and support and rearrange. We pray. We ask others to pray. We fast. We encounter God in his Word and in snippets of silence and solitude while it’s still dark outside and before the figurative gun goes off heralding the start of a new day.
And then it’s done. There is time to slow down. Space to breathe.
Some of us have hit this finish line without any elation at all. Instead we’ve died to dreams we thought would be. We’re tempted to give up on people we had hoped would join our cause, and we’re strapped for lack of resources we prayed for but that never arrived. Rather than elation, we feel the hot breath of failure on our necks. And we sense the soul-deep fatigue of chronic disappointment dogging us.
Even still, we know a season has changed. It is time to breathe.
We putter in the garden. We go to a game. We throw out the piles of accumulated paper in our office. We dive to the bottom of the email inbox (how does Michael Hyatt do it?). We put our dusty running shoes back on, work out more, set long-term goals, and relax with friends and family. Ah, summer.
And then it hits. Sadness. Discontentedness. Somehow, even after a great ministry season, I find myself adrift. Confused about my value, questioning my identity, my purpose.
A psychologist might say it’s just part of getting used to life without adrenaline pumping through my veins. Perhaps. I know often our lows have chemical causes. As I shared my deep fatigue, confusion, and general malaise last week with a close spiritual friend, she commented that I actually sounded like Elijah. That seemed a bit melodramatic, but I did recognize some similarities.
What was her prescription? A nourishing meal. A good night’s sleep. And more sleep.
Sometimes the most important ways to care for our souls are so obvious that we might miss them: healthy food and sleep.
The physical healing that our bodies undergo during deep sleep is the “third shift” of a factory—a shift entirely devoted to repairing the equipment and clearing out the clutter. When we lose sleep over long periods of time, the repair crew that sweeps the house at night can’t do its God-given work. Do I need to say much about the need for healthy foods in the right amounts at the right times? I think we all know, but do we live it out? What would it look like for us to honor our bodies this summer?
As you cross the ministry-year finish line, with either a runner’s high or an after-race letdown, my invitation is simple: pay attention to your soul.
Are you fatigued? Get rest. Are you hungry? Eat well. Are you wondering if your efforts really matter? Plant something (not a church!). Are you doubting your calling? Let God meet you in your angst. Turn to him in silence. Let go of your words. Let your shoulders relax. Take a walk outside. Pay attention to the birds of the air. Breathe.
Beware of the sneaky self-doubt or the grandiose visions that seek to undermine you during a season of rest. Remember the words from Isaiah 26:3: “You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.”
This peace is available to us in crises of exertion, as well as in crises, and the lulls after strenuous exertion.
Today, my challenge is to rest in God in the lull. Take time to meet your needs. Oh sure, you can invent something to make your schedule and your life crazy again and go for the adrenaline buzz.
But if long-term impact and Kingdom life is what you’re after, please give your body what it needs: Rest.
And remember to breathe.
Mindy Caliguire is the founder of Soul Care, a spiritual formation ministry, and director of transformation ministry for the Willow Creek Association.
Copyright © 2011 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.
