Beginning Rest

The thought of taking a sabbatical doesn't immediately stir feelings of rest in me. I'm hopelessly extroverted, so the idea of stepping away from a university campus filled with life strikes a bit of fear in me. If you think of it, pray for me. I'm grateful for the opportunity, of course. I'm thrilled to be serving a place that offers the opportunity to take a semester away, and I know it will go quickly, so I'll be offering a bit of a record of it here, mainly for the sake of taking account of a gift.

Logging my plan here will hopefully afford a bit of accountability for what I hope to do. Of course, my instinct is to list all the things I plan to accomplish and call that what I hope to do. I wouldn't need accountability for that. I need accountability to rest.

This year, I've formed a group of other theology professors who meet together on Zoom for mutual encouragement and such. When I confessed to them that I was having trouble making decisions on all that I was going to accomplish over sabbatical, one of them wisely said, "Or you could rest. That would be enough."

That was enough wisdom for me to adjust my plan. I abandoned the notion of tackling two writing projects or starting another degree program. I'm going to stick to the book project I've been contracted to write, and then take a week to sit on a beach with Shawna, and take a week to pray with the Franciscans, and take a few trips to do things my kids barely tolerate, like visiting aviation museums and the Corvette museum in Bowling Green. I'm also going to feed my interest in economic development by visiting organizations and centers of social entrepreneurship around Nashville. Reading will happen for the sheer enjoyment of it and relive my college days by going to a Caedmon's Call concert at the Ryman. That sounds like fun, and that sounds like rest. Still, if you think of it and would be willing, pray for me.