The first few lines of Mary Oliver’s poem “The Journey” read: EN">

“Who made the world?

Who made the swan, and the black bear?

Who made the grasshopper?”EN">

Before I took some time away for my sabbatical this past April, I felt the weight of the world in my heart. I burdened myself with the responsibility for not just my world, but the world of my children, my family, my friends, my team, and our congregations. EN">

It takes a really long time to unwind those thoughts. Uprooting them is like hiking through the jungle, whacking at vines with a machete. I spent the beginning of my sabbatical just feeling my feelings. I sat with myself. I accepted all feelings that came to me and tried to understand their messages, even when they were ugly, even when they were unwanted, even when they hurt. I cried. I grieved. I raged. EN">

Then my body became sick. My body started to show that it was reaching its limit as the stress started to unwind. Three weeks into my sabbatical I got COVID, my second time to have it in less than six months. Once I tested negative for COVID, my entire household contracted the most terrible stomach virus and upper respiratory infection that I have ever had. After that, I suffered insomnia, migraines, and flare ups of Ehlers-Danlos. It felt like every one of my joints were full of hardened concrete, and moving meant cracking that cement and carrying it around. EN">

And then, blissfully, came what I call “the sleeping time.” As the stress left my body, it became completely drained. I spent my days walking through honey: it was sweet, but it was also so slow. I honestly couldn’t keep my eyes open for longer than two hours at a time. Doctors told me that this was trauma leaving the body. I hadn’t truly rested for so long that my body needed to catch up.EN">

In the final stretches of my time away, I studied a lot about trust, trust-building, and being trust-worthy. I discovered more about how trauma moves through a system and how it destroys that sense of trust in each other and in itself. I found ways of community-building that begin with relationships grounded in trust and methods for getting there. I’m really excited to bring all that I learned during this time back to the practices and curriculum of our Southern Region. EN">

One late night in June, as I was going through my nightly routine and putting my ear buds in my ears to listen to my true crime podcast that lulls me to sleep, I suddenly felt tears streaming down my cheeks. This time, however, I was smiling. In an instant, as my head hit the pillow, I felt as if a dam broke in my soul and my heart unfurled. I was filled with the overwhelming presence of gratitude: for my life, for my family, for my work, and for you. It is with this profound gratitude that I return to my regular work this August, open to the transformational spirit of Love that moves between, among, and through each one of us. EN">

As for the routine of the work, the Fall begins with Installations, Start-Ups, and Board Training. The fall is also an intense time of consulting and partnering with Religious Educators as they begin their RE year as well. For the not-so-routine work, your Southern Region staff is envisioning our programming anew, with new leadership opportunities and more time spent in intentional relationship with our congregational partners to support you in this upcoming year. Please be on the lookout for invitations to cohort-specific gatherings as well as newly-revised training opportunities. EN">

In the beginning of Mary Oliver’s poem “The Journey,” when she writes, “Who made the world,” the answer was never me and me alone. To let go of that notion is to be open to partnership, shared ministry, and the gratitude for all we can accomplish together. Near the end of the poem, Oliver asks a different question: “What will you do with your one wild and precious life?” Her answer is not to toil away, to work past the point of exhaustion, or to assume burdens and responsibilities that are impossible to carry alone. Her answer is to become soft and observe. Smell the air and touch the grass. Experience this world that you did not create, but that is ever becoming around you. Be present to the awe and the wonder of life, and let the gratitude of your connections flow through you until your heart unfurls. EN">

I look forward to renewing our connections in this spirit in the upcoming year and for many years to come.