It’s official. I’ve finished my first unit of Clinical Pastoral Education. I know it’s official because I have two thick final evaluations, one written by me and one written by my supervisor, signed and in a folder that will soon be carefully placed in a file, removed only to photocopy (probably a hundred times) to turn in with all the paperwork I need for school, for my application for candidacy, and probably for all the other applications I will prepare in the next two years. And then it will stay there, probably never removed again, for years and years and years, because it is too hard-earned to simply throw out.
Really, though, I’ve been done for almost a month. My group gathered for the last time on Feb. 12, and I made my last clinical rounds on Feb. 13. I returned to a life where I was *only* juggling four classes, church, and my family -- and I was right, after three weeks of four classes, family, church, and nearly 30 hours a week of CPE related stuff, it feels like vacation.
Or maybe more precisely, like sabbath. Because I’ve been a little slow to start diving back in, reluctant to take on new tasks. I’ve been keeping my head down, not raising my hand to volunteer to preach, or teach, or even to take the first presentation slot in class. I’ve kind of been hoping that no one will notice I’m home more often. I thought about things I could do at church, but didn’t act on any of them. I considered signing up for the Spring Learning Event in the diocese, about inviting friends for dinner, about going to the YMCA. But in the end, I stayed home. I left whole days filled with nothing on the schedule. When it snowed, I slept in, re-upholstered my dining chairs, sewed Becky a dress for her doll. I skipped church and went skiing. I played Rock Band with my husband, and watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I set up a profile on Facebook.
I hadn’t planned to slow down. There are so many things I need to do! But after the intensity of CPE and the lack of time that accompanied that last six months, I realized that one of those things was to take some time to breath, to play, to just be around people I care about. And that’s the wisdom of sabbath.
The to-do list never gets shorter. There are always more tasks to do than we can get to, more people to care for than we have hours in the day. Somehow, pray, play, breath never find their way into the top spots. Sabbath invites us to reserve some time where they do -- and even God knew that after a busy week of work, it’s important to take time to play.
After my sabbath time, I’m holding things more lightly. There are papers to write, and I’m feeling more eager to engage with them. I’m beginning to organize, to take pleasure in checking things off the to do list. The books on my desk beckon, rather than chastise. The work awaiting me feels inviting, challenging, new.
That’s what sabbath is for. For strength and renewal, for the rest that allows us to gather up the threads of our lives afresh and anew, more fully present than we were before. God commands it because he knows we won’t do it on our own -- but it isn’t a burden, it’s a promise. We can take time to rest and blame it on God. Thank you, God.
Claiming my sabbath time means some task will go unfinished. But some task will go unfinished anyway. They always do. I needed the rest, the time to play. Now it is time to begin the work again. And I’m ready -- until it’s time once again for sabbath rest.
Really, though, I’ve been done for almost a month. My group gathered for the last time on Feb. 12, and I made my last clinical rounds on Feb. 13. I returned to a life where I was *only* juggling four classes, church, and my family -- and I was right, after three weeks of four classes, family, church, and nearly 30 hours a week of CPE related stuff, it feels like vacation.
Or maybe more precisely, like sabbath. Because I’ve been a little slow to start diving back in, reluctant to take on new tasks. I’ve been keeping my head down, not raising my hand to volunteer to preach, or teach, or even to take the first presentation slot in class. I’ve kind of been hoping that no one will notice I’m home more often. I thought about things I could do at church, but didn’t act on any of them. I considered signing up for the Spring Learning Event in the diocese, about inviting friends for dinner, about going to the YMCA. But in the end, I stayed home. I left whole days filled with nothing on the schedule. When it snowed, I slept in, re-upholstered my dining chairs, sewed Becky a dress for her doll. I skipped church and went skiing. I played Rock Band with my husband, and watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I set up a profile on Facebook.
I hadn’t planned to slow down. There are so many things I need to do! But after the intensity of CPE and the lack of time that accompanied that last six months, I realized that one of those things was to take some time to breath, to play, to just be around people I care about. And that’s the wisdom of sabbath.
The to-do list never gets shorter. There are always more tasks to do than we can get to, more people to care for than we have hours in the day. Somehow, pray, play, breath never find their way into the top spots. Sabbath invites us to reserve some time where they do -- and even God knew that after a busy week of work, it’s important to take time to play.
After my sabbath time, I’m holding things more lightly. There are papers to write, and I’m feeling more eager to engage with them. I’m beginning to organize, to take pleasure in checking things off the to do list. The books on my desk beckon, rather than chastise. The work awaiting me feels inviting, challenging, new.
That’s what sabbath is for. For strength and renewal, for the rest that allows us to gather up the threads of our lives afresh and anew, more fully present than we were before. God commands it because he knows we won’t do it on our own -- but it isn’t a burden, it’s a promise. We can take time to rest and blame it on God. Thank you, God.
Claiming my sabbath time means some task will go unfinished. But some task will go unfinished anyway. They always do. I needed the rest, the time to play. Now it is time to begin the work again. And I’m ready -- until it’s time once again for sabbath rest.
No comments:
Post a Comment