A couple of years ago, the rest of my staff made me leave for a month.
I was burned out and angry at everyone all the time.
So my staff told me to leave.
The time away helped. I was a lot better on the other side.
Until like 10 months later, when I was angry and burned out all over again.
Same thing happened this year.
I seem to have about ten months of spiritual, emotional, and professional energy these days.
Which doesn’t seem like much.
But, as my spiritual director said a few years back, “You helped a church get through a freaking pandemic. You’re probably going to get exhausted faster for a long time after this.”
And I do.
So for the past couple years I’ve taken off a month in the summer.
I give ten really good months, and then one more month where I’m running on fumes.
Then I leave for a month.
I’m leaving again this year for the month of July.
I’m hoping to return with a little more clarity.
About myself.
About my faith (or lack thereof).
About my role in my church.
About my role in the world.
I don’t know if I’ll get that clarity.
But at the very least, I hope to be a little less angry.
A little more passionate.
A little less irritable.
A little more hopeful.
A little less pessimistic.
I used to be able to power through and remain hopeful for longer than ten months at a time.
I hope to be able to do so again one day.
But for now, ten months is all I have.
Post-pandemic David has ten good months.
We’re all a little different on this side of the pandemic.
Maybe ten good months at a time is all I’m ever going to have.
And maybe that’s okay.
This substack is, and will always be, free.
I have zero plans to ever put anything I write here behind a paywall.
But if you want to financially support my writing, you’re welcome to do that.
Supporting me won’t get you anything tangible.
But you’ll make me smile.
And you’ll probably incentivize me to keep writing.
Your body insists on sabbath. Your body knows the score.