I Need A Vacation From My Life
I have said this to a few people over the last couple of weeks, and I mean it: “I do not need a vacation from work. I need a vacation from my life.”
Maybe you know that feeling. Late spring has a way of taking over the calendar. One minute, there is a little open space. The next minute, there are concerts, games, award banquets, end-of-year programs, prom pictures, church events, family commitments, and some mysterious school fee that apparently must be paid by tomorrow. I am pretty sure I have signed a field trip permission form every day for the last month. If not, it has at least felt that way.
For our family, this season has felt especially full. Allison’s mom died. We traveled for the funeral. We have been grieving, remembering, and cleaning out her apartment. Then life kept right on going. Basketball games still happened. Prom still happened. School still needed forms signed. The end-of-year calendar did not pause just because our hearts needed a little more room.
That is one of the strange things about life. The sacred and the ordinary often sit right next to each other. Grief and prom pictures. Funeral travel and basketball games. Cleaning out an apartment and trying to remember which child needs money for which end-of-year event. It is all mixed together.
Ecclesiastes says, “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven. A time to weep, and a time to laugh. A time to mourn, and a time to dance".
Most of the time, I wish those seasons came one at a time. I would prefer a neatly organized life with color-coded emotions and clearly labeled transitions. But that is not usually how life works. Sometimes we are mourning and laughing in the same week. Sometimes we are grieving and cheering from the bleachers. Sometimes we are holding memories in one hand and a permission slip in the other.
Maybe part of discipleship is learning to notice God in the mix of it all. Not only in the quiet moments. Not only when life feels settled. Not only when the calendar finally clears. But here, in the middle of the overlapping squares. In the car. In the school auditorium. At the banquet table. In the boxes, we are sorting through. In the moments when we realize life is both beautiful and a lot.
So, this week, I am trying not to simply survive the calendar. I am trying to pay attention to it. I am trying to be present with the people in front of me instead of already rushing ahead to the next thing. I am trying to notice the relationships that matter most. I am trying to make room for God in the middle of the fullness, not just when things finally slow down.
And I am trying to remain grateful. Grateful for family. Grateful for memories. Grateful for people to love and places to show up. Grateful for God’s blessings, peace, and strength in the midst of it all.
Because somewhere in the middle of all of this, God is still present. In the weeping. In the laughing. In the mourning. In the dancing. In the full calendar and the quiet breath between appointments. And, yes, probably even in the permission slips.
With Gratitude,
Rev. Rodney Whitfield
Senior Pastor
Aldersgate UMC