July 11, 2023

Recently, I experienced a week of wondering if it was time to let go of some or all of the activities that have been important in my life in recent years, such as facilitating the weekly writing group at church or meeting with spiritual direction clients. The week was a busy one, and I confess as I approached each item on the calendar, I wished them away. I even felt some anxiety about my ability to lead well, to listen well, to respond and be open. I felt little, if any, enthusiasm for what during other weeks I anticipated with eagerness and interest. Was I simply impersonating an old version of myself, of what I think I should do, continue to do, instead of want to do, feel called to do in the most glorious, joyous way?

Each day as I looked at my calendar and noted what was required for the day, I asked God to just get me through to the point where I could say, “Whew, that’s done.”

That’s not exactly what anyone needs in a spiritual director or in a teacher or leader.

Over a year ago I immersed myself in a period of intentional discernment about whether or not I should continue writing and revising my spiritual memoir or was it time to say, “Enough. Let it be.” Eventually, I decided yes, it was time to let go of working more on the memoir, hoping to find a publisher or deciding to self-publish. That decision continues to feel right.

Now, however, am I entering a new time of discernment? Is it time to retire? I am 75, after all, so that doesn’t seem like an out of the ordinary question. And if it is time to change the menu of my days, what does that mean? How can I continue in my various roles if I no longer feel drawn to them or have energy for them? Has the call I have felt for so long ended?

Big questions.

Then a curious thing happened. And it happened with each appointment and each event. Over and over again during the week.

First of all, I showed up. I left my reluctance outside the door, and I showed up. And then much to my surprise, I engaged. Actually, I re-engaged. And each time I felt a surge of gratitude and love and delight.

In each instance I noticed the movement of God.

But I am a slow learner apparently, for I moved through almost the entire week wondering, as Nadia Bolz Weber has said, if it was time to walk gently away from where I have planted my flags. My flags of identity, of who I say I am.

Finally, while sitting in silence, feeling weary and uninspired, I realized what I needed was something quite simple. I needed a time-out. I didn’t need to make a big change in my life. I didn’t need to announce a Sacred No to all I have loved doing. Instead, I needed to shout a Sacred Yes to some temporary spaciousness. Some simple rest and restoration time. Some time on the patio and in our “Paris” garden. Some unfilled days.

I didn’t need to change my life. I didn’t need or want to retire. I just needed to create some space around myself.

This is not a time to discern the pros and cons of a big decision. That may come at any point, but not right now. Nope, what I actually need to do is pay attention–to the tickly nudges and the quiet melody in the background. I need to close my eyes lightly, not tightly, and feel gentle breezes smooth my rough edges, as well as “the timeless embrace of God,” as Henri Nouwen says.

Not an ending, but a time-out.

The timing was perfect, for the weekend leading to July 4th was at hand, and we had nothing planned. Spacious days beckoned me, and I said, “yes.”

By the way, I am now back to more normal routines and schedules, and I am happy to be there. All is well. Well, indeed.

An Invitation

When do you know when you need a time-out? I would love to know.