For God is my witness, how I long for all of you with the compassion of Christ Jesus
(Philippians 1:8, NRSV)
Here's a certain truth: It's actually harder to take a vacation than most of us would like to admit. In many cases, it's harder to take a vacation than it is to go to work or school. When I was a classroom teacher, I often would rather teach feeling ill than take the sick day off because suffering through the illness was easier than writing the substitute lesson plans. It's a terrible thought to face, that we are often more comfortable being under someone else's schedule and command than our own free enjoyment. This is probably why so many of us don't like to admit it - but nevertheless, it's hard to take a real break.
We conflate so many activities that are anything but rest with taking a true break. I recently said goodbye to my grandmother, who lingered in sickness for many weeks before her death. During that time, I struggled to feel like I was being productive enough, a good enough father or husband, a good enough colleague and co-worker, a good enough servant of the Lord. I felt almost embarrassed for missing time at the office to be with my grandmother in her last days. This is not the fault of anyone but my own anxious inner voices - my friends and co-workers at the church offices were very supportive and understanding of my absence. It was not an external stimulus that led to my feelings of guilt during this time; those feelings were solely of my own making. I conflated being out of the office during a family emergency with simply being 'off.' And I couldn't feel comfortable with simply being 'off.'
I'm sure you've conflated other activities for taking a true break in your own life. I'm also sure you've fought the same sort of guilt I dealt with in this recent season. This explains why you check emails from your pool chair, or why you need the wi-fi password as soon as you check into your hotel. The true reason why you take pictures of every passing event is because you want documentation that you were actually having fun, even though at the time you were probably at least neck-deep in anxiety and guilt because of the project you hadn't completed at home or the work you'd return to when you got back to the office.
The apostle Paul writes to his friends in Philippi the following testimony of his faithfulness to them and thankfulness for them:
"I thank my God every time I remember you, constantly praying with joy in every one of my prayers for all of you, because of your sharing in the gospel from the first day until now. I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ. It is right for me to think this way about all of you, because you hold me in your heart, for all of you share in God’s grace with me, both in my imprisonment and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel. For God is my witness, how I long for all of you with the compassion of Christ Jesus." (Philippians 1:3-8, NRSV)
Paul is imprisoned as he writes his letter to the Philippians. Even in his captivity, he has a strong need to document and share his desire to actually be back at work. He loves the church at Philippi; this is obvious. However, I am convinced that Paul writes to them not to convince them of his love, but to remind them of it. In his absence, he feels the need to let them know he's doing his best to still 'work' in the ministry alongside them from afar. Even prison can't make this pastor take a break.
This week I will travel to a place I hold near to my heart, the Outer Banks of North Carolina. There, among some of my longest known and best friends, I'll take a real break. There will be too much to do to think of work, worry, and the realities of daily life. We'll be much too busy eating burgers, tacos, and steaks. We'll be much too engaged in the fishing reports from the charters coming in at the docks. Our wi-fi will be designated for checking the weather, current conditions on the Gulf Stream, and tidal periods. I will try very hard to not do anything remotely related to work.
But I will fail.
At some point over my time on the magical island away from reality, one of you will slip into my mind. And I'll begin to pray for you. And I'll begin to think of how I can be present for you from afar. And I'll make plans to be with you when I return.
But I promise you this - I will relax. I will return to the vacation as soon as I've prayed for you. It's a common curse among those of us who know our calling: we are never truly on vacation. However, we don't have to turn this revelation into bad news - it is actually a joy. I give myself permission to relax just as I give myself permission to remember you always. And just like Paul, I will thank God each time I do remember you. You are not work. You are part of my life. You help give me purpose. You allow me this break. And as Paul said it best himself, "It is right for me to think this way about all of you, because you hold me in your heart."
Don't get too used to me being gone. I'll be back before you begin to miss me!
In Christ,
J.M.D.