Practice and process, over perfection and product

Thoughts on taking a sabbatical from church work

This is a moment for me of dropping the veil. Although I strive for authenticity, there’s certain honesty that the whole world is not owed. And thank GOD for that. Social media or a newsletter aren’t exactly the places that I bring my unprocessed grief. For me, I think it serves more of a purpose of giving people a window into my days, inviting someone to come see a show, or processing some big themes I’ve been swimming in lately. And what I’m about to get into has been a big current that’s been carrying me for a while.

Last year was a hard year for a lot of different reasons and on a lot of different fronts. And unfortunately this year hasn't been a piece of cake either, as the people close to me are witnesses to. The past two years have been full of high highs and low lows, like getting married to the love of my life, divorce in my family, professional doors opening, addiction around me, death of a dear friend, new life being brought into the world, and betrayals spiritually and relationally. There are infected wounds brought on by others’ shit that have not had the space to breathe, but instead seem to become sicker and sicker. And the evil persists. There’s nothing I can do to stop it and I struggle to accept how helpless I am, while the people who can and should do something don’t do a damn thing. That’s some tragic irony right there. And that’s the unfortunate state of the world. Sin is a lot more of a bummer than you can even imagine as a kid in Sunday school.

However, hope has also entered in and I pray I will see the shadows get smaller as the light takes its rightful place. In the middle of winter, my husband and I met with one of my best friend’s pastors. He was in the loop on some of the heaviness that my church had gone through in the past year. After I recounted the specifics of the story to him, I realized I was shaking. In the summer when a lot of the events transpired, I noticed that I would physically shiver when I let my friends in to where I was finding myself, but I thought it was just adrenaline from what had just happened. With 6 months removed and my legs still twitching uncontrollably, it became obvious this was a traumatic event for me.

In that moment, this pastor looked me in the eyes and recommended I take a sabbatical from my role as the worship director. Now, I can see that to some people or said in a different tone this could feel like someone saying “you’re so messed up, we need to get you away”, but it didn’t register in my heart that way at all. It felt like him saying if he was my boss he would give me this rest. And I started praying about it and deeply thinking about it.

I had the most resistant therapy session I think I’ve had in my life thus far about this topic. I said I thought a sabbatical would be helpful and healing to me and my counselor agreed. And then I proceeded to debate her about it for the rest of the hour. What about the other people in my church family that need a break? What about the people that my absence would impact? I’m not at rock bottom, I should probably keep going, right? And she kindly and skillfully disarmed all of my defenses and I knew that requesting a sabbatical from the elders at my church was the way forward.

I was VERY nervous about the meeting. Not because of them, but just because it felt like a big deal to ask. As soon as the words came out of my mouth, these 4 men gently and generously agreed with me and asked for how long and asked about my dreams for it. I didn’t think I would have to beg them for it, but it was crazy that it was all sorted in ten minutes.

Now, for my sabbatical, my big plan is to have less plans. Outside of a dream trip that Connor and I are taking driving up the coast from California to Washington, I’ll be in Nashville laying low, going to farmer’s markets, learning how to water color, getting my first tattoo, seeing less people, reading, going to the movies, and writing when I feel like it. I want to devote time to disciplines like running and cooking that can be really creative or experiential, but in the fast pace of my typical days can feel defeating or stress me out with how little time I have to experiment with them. I want to find play in practice and process, instead of running towards perfection and product. I’m meeting with a spiritual director during my time and this is one of the visions and prayers I’m bringing to her.

I’ll also be visiting other churches outside of my home church that I have been serving at for 5 years. I think in the most acute moments of the crisis I was caught in, I became the worst form of a worship leader I have ever been. I believe I’m my healthiest as a worshiper when I’m bringing my own fears, hopes for the future, sadness, anger, and joy to the table and when I’m also able to look out into the crowd on a Sunday and pray for my friends: the couple that’s been having a hard time, the teenager who stayed out too late last night, the dad who just lost his dad, the mom who is not one yet. It’s a sacred ground to get to believe in goodness breaking in for others and to trust that they are holding me on days when the words feel dull and meaningless on my tongue.

During the fall out, I was a zombie going through the motions. I was a dutiful sleep walker. While pastors changed in and out like guests on Seth Meyers, I felt like I had to hold down the ship. Whether that was a truth or a made up responsibility, I felt it nonetheless and I didn’t have the self awareness at the time to ask for help. Everyone needed help. It was a hospital and everyone was bleeding out. Someone had to plaster on a smile and not be freaking out every Sunday. I guess, it had to be me. Nobody needs me having an existential crisis in front of them when they had their own fears to deal with and maybe singing “I Go to the Rock” and seeing if people will clap will make us all feel a little relieved? I look back and regret how I didn’t bring my vulnerability to my church family.

In summary, I’m taking a sabbatical in faith that the Lord and the healing He wants for me right now will meet me over the 6 weeks I have to step away. I believe there will be something good nurtured in my being an attender on a Sunday rather than someone who keeps things chugging along. I feel prayerful about becoming a creature that grieves and hopes instead of a machine that keeps running. I feel prayerful about what this step away will uncover for me in watching the world spin without me trying to get my grubby little hands all over it and what fruit this space and time could bear in future years, a generative rest that keeps bringing rest.

Please join me in prayer for the month of August through the month of September. Pray for safe travels, healing, and whatever else your good imagination can dream up for me! I hope I can return with stories of new life breathed on dead places and becoming a kid again.

Seeking shalom,

Michelle