The last four months of my life have been overflowing. Overwhelming even.

There has been much gratitude packed into this fullness; a sense of joy that “my cup runneth over.” But there has also been exhaustion and defeat; living out the adage that sometimes, courage is the small voice saying, “I’ll try again tomorrow.”

The spring was defined by travel. During a run of 12 weeks, I was out of town for personal travel on 6 of those weekends (weddings, bridal showers and high school retreats dominated the landscape). The weeks weren’t much better, as I returned from rich, full weekends just to hop on another airplane to Tampa, Columbus (x2) or Nashville for work. Spring was a season of stamina. A restful evening came to be defined as one where all that was required of me was unpacking, laundry, and repacking. Relationships faltered and stalled, lacking the time and space needed to flourish.

I am so grateful to have friends who invite me into their lives across the miles and for the resources to be able to, every so often, live alongside them again. I am grateful for meaningful work to do and that my company trusts me enough to represent them. But I overstepped myself. I sprinted forward when I should have said no. I sought out opportunities when I should have rested. And I grew weary.

The summer was going to be a time to rest. Half of my household spent the summer abroad, leaving a much slower tempo permeating the walls of 5DD. But I had underestimated how long it would take to restore balance to my life. Relationships needed to be entered into again, procrastinated chores could wait no longer and life just kept marching forward. My schedule had slowed down, but my mind has kept racing. Somehow, it’s August, and I’m still not ready for summer to start yet.

But rest is coming.

In a little under a week, I leave for a place we just call “camp.” It’s a place bustling full of people and a place of deep rest. Of rich conversations and of the comfortable solitude that can only be found when you are safely surrounded by those who love you. I don’t quite know what I’m hoping for at camp this year, but I do know that I will find rest.

And that it will be good for my soul.


2 thoughts on “Hiatus

  1. I share your sense of not ever having a moment to yourself, to reflect and replenish. I call it “baseball season.” 😉 Glad you’re finding the balance again.

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