When we visited our friend Rosemary at St. Andrew’s, she gave me this Icon of Friendship from her visits to Taizé. It traveled with me through our sabbatical and now sits on my desk as I offer spiritual direction.

Welcome to autumn! I share a list of things I learned once a quarter. As we welcome fall, I’m also reflecting on what I learned during our three-month sabbatical this summer.

If you're new to my writing or my public blog space, welcome!

Throughout the past three months, I’ve learned a lot about the nature of deep rest, and hopefully, I’ll be able to put some of it into words here and in the book I’m writing. Some of it, I imagine, will be kept quietly between Brian and me, and a few things will be kept only in that center space of belovedness with my friend Jesus.

There’s no way I could synthesize all that we’re holding in our hearts from the past 13 weeks, so I’m sharing 13 journal entries, one for each week of the sabbatical. In the words of Emily P. Freeman, I’m sharing “in-process considerations, not necessarily fully worked out narratives.” Thanks for reading!

1. UNRESOLVABLE HURDLES TO REST ARE GOD’S SPECIALTY

Day 1—Church of the Apostles in Bridgeport, CT

This isn’t a journal entry but rather a transcript of what Brian and I shared with our church family the last Sunday before we left. After we shared, they prayed over us, and so I’ve included excerpts of those prayers, too. I actually only heard a portion of these things at the moment because I was nervous, tired, and excited. What a gift this morning to revisit the video clip from July 3 and realize God heard every word.

When we were asked to share one thing we’d like people to pray for us, here’s a paraphrase of how I responded:

I was thinking on the way to church this morning about how much of our lives together has been characterized by us making best-laid plans and then God doing this other unexpected and sometimes last-minute thing. As a result, we end up going through major milestones in our life, feeling like we can’t see the next step at all. Moving here to Connecticut —which was so beautiful—was a major transitional season in our family’s life. There were a lot of changes happening in our kids’ lives and in our own work, and so much we didn’t know and couldn’t see. I needed to know that, in moving to Connecticut to join Church of the Apostles, there would be space for rest and renewal. Early on in the interview process, I remember asking Brian, “Do they have a sabbatical plan? I really need to know that.” And he asked the search team, and since that time, the Parish Council at Apostles came up with a sabbatical plan. Thank you.

In the midst of all the goodness we’ve experienced since beginning life in Connecticut, we’ve also experienced—personally and globally—major disruptions and painful upheavals. In the back of my mind, I held onto the knowledge that a sabbatical was coming and that we had a plan for rest - something tangible we could count on and plan for in the middle of so many uncertainties. For the last year or so, I’ve had this special sense of anticipation that not only was sabbatical ahead of us but that it was something I could imagine and plan, even when it felt too good to be true. I was so on top of it!

Then, in the last few weeks before the sabbatical, several major things happened that made us wonder if we’d be able to go on the sabbatical as planned. Some were good things—like having a book to write—which was a wonderful surprise but required discernment. All along, I’d felt like the importance of this sabbatical was to remove any obligations for productivity, and if I wrote at all, it would be for my eyes only. I pretty quickly came to terms with this change of plans, though. It felt like a cherry on top of our sabbatical sundae!

And then—throughout the spring and culminating just two weeks before the sabbatical was scheduled to begin—some really hard and traumatic medical emergencies happened within our family. Naturally, we felt overwhelmed by fear and grief, but also we began to wonder if God actually intended to give us the good gift of extended rest or if we’d just imagined it all along. That it was, in fact, too good to be true.

So on the way to church the last Sunday before we began our sabbatical, I reflected on the fact that while we had a plan, it had become more theoretical than probable. There were several hurdles to us leaving home that none of us—including our dearest family and friends—could solve. My thoughts turned into a deep lament that, once again, God was asking us to put aside our best-laid plans and move forward on a path we could barely see. I told God and my church family that I would’ve loved to enter this sabbatical with more assurance that it would actually happen and that our plans would work out.

As I stood in front of the congregation, trying to articulate my request for prayer, I found myself adding a statement of hope to the lament.

I said, “And, yet, this seems to be God’s way with us. It’s always cost more than we expected but also always rewarded more than we could’ve ever imagined. So if that’s true for sabbatical, too, then something really good is about to happen.” I surprised myself with those words, and as I watched the video back, I heard my quick amendment, “But this part of not having certain things in place that I thought would be in place doesn’t feel good.”

And then, after listening to the Holy Spirit and us, our church family prayed for us. Here are a few of the prayers they offered:

“Loving Father, Lord of the Sabbath, You gave us the Sabbath. You created it for us. We desire a sabbath for these two precious ones. We pray that you’ll give them …a sabbath of shalom, which most of us don’t really understand at all. Teach them… And then bring them back to us to teach us how to have shalom.”

“Lord, we so much desire that You would be their Papa and Mama during this time. Let them be children resting in you.”

“We pray Psalm 139:5 over Brian and Tamara: ‘You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me.’ Hem them in and lay your hand upon them, Lord.”

“Give them good, sweet, rich, deep family time that is soaked in your power and in your grace and in your love. Lord, we ask that it would be a life-giving time as a family to be together. Then, Lord, after those two weeks of togetherness, we ask that you would guard and protect and bless and keep all of their children as Brian and Tamara go and do the things you’ve asked them to do in this sabbatical. Lord, be with each of them by the power of your Spirit. Lord, we pray that they would lean into you, turn to you, that they would see and know you afresh.”

“I’ve been thinking, Lord, about that word perichoresis that Brian shared with us a few weeks ago—that image of the Trinity dancing together and how we’re invited to dance with them. So, Lord, you lead the way; you threw a step in there that we didn’t expect. Bless them with the perichoresis, Lord. Enfold them. Invite them in. Holy Communion, come with your peace, with your invitation. In that dance, bind them together in Your holy love.”

As I reflect on my journal entries for the three months we were tucked away in this invitation of holy love, it’s evident that God answered every single prayer in ways we never could’ve imagined. He cleared the path to rest—sometimes through simple solutions and sometimes unbelievable ones. By His Holy Spirit, He moved other people who love us ad a few strangers to jump hurdles for us through prayer and acts of love so that we were free to walk freely, unhindered, on the path of deep rest. We are forever thankful and pray that, in God’s beautiful economy, we’ll be able to offer rest to many others with the rest we’ve been given.

Lord, hear our prayer again.

Sharing a sunset with our grandson on one of our first nights of sabbatical.
Canandaigua Lake, NY

Thankfully the rain stopped long enough for us to get a family photo outside the winery. We missed Jordan so much!

2. CHARCUTERIE CAN BE A MEANS OF GRACE.

Day 11—Trumansburg, NY

Journal entry: “I felt a low-to-high level of anxiety all day. I know some of what I was feeling was the recognition that we’re on the last part of the Murphy Family Vacation. I began to feel the grief of saying goodbye and the tension of how everyone’s grief might affect each other. I also recognized unprocessed grief kind of clamoring for attention in any open spaces of time. I tried to process in prayer how I was feeling about the upcoming day and what I might hope for it. I couldn’t settle into my spirit enough to name anything, so I tried to listen for God’s voice, and that made me feel jittery too. The only word I could land on between God and me was “peace.” Even then, I felt my need and desire for peace was coming from an anxious and sad place. …

In the late afternoon, we all headed out to a winery on the lake for drinks and snacks. Since this was our special “outing” for the week, I’d researched the best location and business hours so that we’d be able to relax together and really enjoy each other’s company. When we arrived (which is a pretty big undertaking with this many people), the host informed us that they were done with tasting flights for the day—an hour sooner than listed on the website—which we’d really been looking forward to exploring. I adjusted my expectation, and we ordered individual glasses of wine instead. It was raining, so we grouped around a table and played a game with conversation prompts. When we returned for more beverages and snacks, the host informed us that they were done serving—an hour before listed on their website—and that we’d need to leave because they were closing. I literally cried and pleaded our case with the manager. She gave us a free wheel of brie, and we bought two bottles to take home with us.

Still, I was so disappointed. Like weirdly desolate about the whole thing. I took a slower route home in a separate vehicle to process the unexpected wave of anxiety and grief seemingly triggered by the rude winery employees.

When I got back to the cottage, the family was cheerfully buzzing around the kitchen. After leaving the winery, Alex and Rebekah had gone straight to a grocery store for piles of charcuterie fixings to add to our consolation wheel of cheese. Brian made a quick batch of deviled eggs, and someone opened the bottles of wine. We gathered around the coffee table in the living room, digging into the savory goodness, and played a game of Things. We laughed a lot which felt good and familiar and like it had been a long time since we’d been together in that way.

Even though we were all feeling the tension of saying goodbye soon, we were able to be present to each other, gathered around a charcuterie feast. And then peaceful sleep for all. Thanks be to God.”

[Epilogue: This evening inspired several future meals during our sabbatical, and each time reminded us of this gift of grace.]

Our daughter-in-law, Rebekah’s, divine charcuterie skills on display.

3. I DRIVE BOATS NOW.

Day 17 —Cayuga Lake, NY
Journal entry: “During today’s ride, Brian asked me to take the wheel. I don’t know why I’ve never done this before, but I kind of loved it. The water conditions were smooth, and hardly anyone else was out on the lake. It was perfect. Brian rested nearby, only occasionally giving me advice. It was heaven.”

4. IN SOLITUDE, GOD INVITED ME TO BEFRIEND MYSELF.

Day 24—Clayton, NY, on the St. Lawrence River

Paraphrase of Journal Entry: We spent the fourth week of our sabbatical this summer in solitude. I dropped Brian, his boat, and all his camping gear at a marina on the St. Lawrence River and then set up house in a cozy Airbnb in the charming village of Clayton, NY.

Because we married and began our family at such a young age, I’ve never lived on my own and don’t think I’ve ever had this much time completely alone. The Airbnb was surrounded by a friendly neighborhood. I could walk to almost any kind of shop or attraction, so it wasn’t the kind of solitude you might think of, but it was an important everyday kind of quiet—a time to acquaint myself with myself. I began settling into the rhythms I’d expected to come naturally for a sabbatical - extended time reading Scripture, journaling, and prayer.

I also noticed what I most enjoyed—being left to my own devices. What food would I want to cook? Where and when would I see the sights? What time would I go to bed, wake up, and take a nap? It may sound elementary to some, but this felt like a meaningful revelation for me.

One afternoon I drove to a nearby hiking preserve on the banks of the St. Lawrence River. The photo above is my proud-of-myself face. Part of my childhood trauma involves a wooded setting, so reacquainting myself with the beauty of wooded pathways is a literal part of my healing journey. I only panicked a few times and could stay present with the companionship of Jesus and the beauty of the pathway."

[Note: As much as I found the week alone restful and enjoyable, I was elated to welcome Brian back at the end of our five days apart! Maybe I'll invite him to share his week's story here sometime!]

5. SOMETIMES, A PILGRIMAGE MEANS WALKING IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF LIVING SAINTS WHO ARE ALSO YOUR FRIENDS.

Day 33—Brampton, Cumbria UK

Journal Entry: “We drove through Northumbria toward the Lake District. Looking at the scenery, I first thought, “This is lovely but not more than upstate New York in the summertime.” As we kept driving closer to Hadrian’s Wall, to Coelho’s cottage in the middle of nowhere, I realized I’d spoken too soon. This was next-level beauty! I hope I never forget the feeling of driving around the grassy bend in the road and seeing Peter and Lucy Coelho waving their arms high in the sky to welcome us.

How did we get here?!?”

[Note: When we first started planning our sabbatical, we knew the beginning and ending date and that, in addition to the generous gift of airline miles to Dublin, we were invited and generously given lodging and travel expenses to participate in a special event in Scotland in mid-August. Once we began building around the dates, we began praying about how to orient our time in the UK. Should we follow a pilgrim path of saints of old or the itinerary of our favorite travel guide? I even briefly considered building our itinerary around my favorite British murder mysteries. After praying, we learned that two other family friends would be in England at the same time, and that’s when it felt like God was inviting us to follow the footsteps of the ordinary saints who make up our rich friendships. This may sound like a strange choice for introverts like us, yet, in this year of emerging from lockdowns and virtually-mediated conversations, this seemed right and good to do. Also, Brian and I love each other’s company and can spend a LOT of time together but a few days here and there to be with others was probably a very good thing for our marriage.]

Two rectors on sabbatical talking passionately about things not related to church

The Sill at Hadrian’s Wall provided us with this marvelous view and also delicious cream tea and scones!

6. NO MATTER WHERE YOU WORSHIP, EUCHARIST IS MORE BEAUTIFUL WHEN IT IS EMBODIED COMMUNION WITH EACH OTHER AND JESUS, WHO DIED AND ROSE IN A HUMAN BODY.

Day 36—London

Journal Entry: “We attended the morning sung Eucharist at Westminster Abbey with the Willers. WOW.

I have so many impressions I can only capture them in a bullet list:

Getting out of the cab in front of the church as the bells were ringing felt like I’d been transported to another time and place.
The beautiful statuary of the tombs (Can not believe I walked by William Wilburforces’ tomb on the way to Sunday morning church!)
The light streaming through the stained glass, the grand processional of choir and priests
The beauty of the opening choral music made me cry. (Brian too.)
Father Bob’s solid sermon and talking with him following the service about one of his excellent points.
Sitting with the Willers and watching their impressions
Getting in trouble taking photos inside on a Sunday morning (oops!)
Leaving the abbey and walking around the corner to see Big Ben right in front of us
Realizing that Big Ben is actually beautiful!

Worshiping in Westminster Abbey was one of the most profound experiences of the entire sabbatical for me, not only because of the history and the beauty. Early in the service, as we stood to speak part of the liturgy, I noticed a pool of urine forming beneath an elderly man sitting in front of us. He sat down quickly, and the fluid remained in a puddle below his seat for the entire service. He remained seated until he rose for communion, determined to walk to the front for his bread and wine. I stood in the line behind him, feeling protective as I waited for my own bread and wine. I will never forget this experience, and I’m not sure exactly how to express how deeply it moved me. It has something to do with the juxtaposition of the earthy and the sublime, the presence of embodied decay surrounded by all those polished marble tombs.

I’m not sure how to put this learning into words, but it would probably be something like this: Death is an ugly enemy, and every time we gather around the Lord’s broken body and blood, we’re remembering that Christ has died. Christ has risen. Christ coming for all of us again.

[Note: A few weeks later, I’d think again about this man as I watched the grand procession of the queen’s coffin across the very same floor the man had sat with his puddle of urine. The memory would be strangely beautiful.]

7. OUR BODIES CLAMOR FOR ATTENTION EVEN WHEN SURROUNDED BY BEAUTY, AND THE RESTFUL RESPONSE IS TO GIVE THANKS FOR BOTH.

Day 38 & 39—Yorkshire Dales, UK

Journal Entry: “We spent our three days in Grassington hiking through the Dales. On our first day, we took a 5 1/2 mile circular trail starting at Linton Falls, along the river, across sheep meadows and cow pastures, through shady woods, and up steep climbs. The views were literally breathtaking, but so was all of that uphill climbing! I found myself annoyed that in the midst of so much beauty, my ankle was clamoring for all of the attention.

The next day we hiked to a pub in a neighboring village. After a long downhill pathway, we crossed waterfalls and then up a super steep, narrow road to the pub on the village green overlooking a “beck.” We drank beer, ate crisps, and cooled off by wading in the stream. THEN we tried to figure out how to get back to Grassington without taking the narrow roadway. This involved wandering through endless hilly pastures (lots of manure) and arguing a little bit about the best direction to turn.

Eventually, thanks to some kind local folks walking to the pub, we found our way to the high sheep meadow back to our village. The scenery was even more idyllic than I’d imagined, but I struggled, feeling like I’d “failed” to navigate. My ankle was hurting again, and I was sweaty and uncomfortable.

On the hike back up the final steep pathway, I asked Brian if we could stop for a few minutes. I paused to give thanks for my body which shifted my entire attitude. Then hobbled back to our Airbnb for dinner and a merciful cold shower.”

[Note: If God allows, we will return to the Yorkshire Dales. We could’ve easily spent an entire week or more here. It should be said that Brian excels at hiking, and the few days here inspired some serious climbs for him during the rest of our sabbatical.]

A tour bus view of the Scott monument. My favorite fact about this monument? It’s the “second-largest monument to a writer in the world”. (Havana boasts the largest.)

8. HOP-ON / HOP-OFF BUSES ARE OUR JAM.

Day 41—Edinburgh, Scotland

Journal Entry: “We ate lunch in Old Town at a wonderful fish and chips place but decided not to walk the Royal Mile. The city is crowded with Fringe-Festival folks, and the sun is so hot! Thankfully, there was plenty of cooling shade on the bus tour.

I seem to be disoriented on Day 1 in any new city. It takes a minute to understand where I am and what I want to do. The bus tour lets me get the big picture of the city and understand the context of the various sights. Then I can go around again or the next day to visit the places I want to see most. Unfortunately, traffic in Edinburgh and Dublin meant the bus moved pretty slowly, but it was still worth it. Even though the streets are super crowded, I can feel the beauty of this city. Everywhere I look, there’s a cohesive view—spires, statues, cobblestones, and natural outcroppings—the whole city is one vibe.”

A glimpse of Selah-Europe’s rescheduled graduation service for the 2019-2021 cohort and our reason for being here. Well done, Drake and Kirstin!

9. I AM SO THANKFUL TO BE A PART OF SELAH SPIRITUAL DIRECTION!

Day 49—St. Mary’s Monastery, Perth, Scotland

Journal Entry: “It did my heart good to be in the oratory for the graduation service. The prayerful liturgy, the Eucharist led by Rev. Sue Currie, and the blessings are spoken over each graduate made me remember how important this event was for me three years ago. It also reminded me of what I’ll be able to participate in as I step into my new role as a Selah supervisor in the spring. I’ll get to speak blessings over future graduates! I hadn’t even thought about that, and I’m so grateful! Father, please prepare my heart to be a welcoming place for the fullness and diversity of your Church. Make me a good gift to each one I companion through their training. Amen.”

10. JESUS SOMETIMES LEADS US TO DESOLATE PLACES FOR DEEP REST.

Days 50 & 51—Dernagree, Co. Cork, Ireland

Journal Entry: “I woke up early and couldn’t sleep (our bed is a double!). As the sun rose, I started to feel the goodness of this place. Enjoyed journaling and catching up on this week’s Scripture readings. I especially resonated with Jesus’s invitation in Mark 6:30 “Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest awhile.”

A “desolate place” as a place for rest seems to fit this cottage perfectly.

Mid-morning, the homeowner checked in on us, and I loved hearing the stories of this cottage that’s been in his family since it was built in the 1850s (which, in this part of the world, seems miraculous that a home was being built in the wake of Ireland’s starvation years). His mother was born in this cottage and grew up in the original three rooms with six other siblings sharing two beds. I felt a little guilty for complaining about the two of us in a double bed.

A desolate place stayed with me all morning - through yoga and then later in a sweet nap, two walks in the (magical, yet) desolate forest. That night, I woke at 4 am, unable to sleep, and began to pray. God led me into some deep and desolate memories. I moved into the other bedroom and sat in front of the open window. I’ve never been anywhere at night this dark and quiet.

One desolate memory after another turned into ripping grief. I began sobbing. The tears were expressing sorrow, grief, repentance, and shame. None of the memories were new—I’ve grieved them and received care from others for them before, but this was a whole new level of lament. With each memory and wave of tears, I sensed the Spirit’s care, giving me language for prayer and insight into Jesus’s heart for me in the past and present.

I’m so grateful for the quiet companionship of Jesus and the waking farm animals and birds outside our windows as I prayed and cried. Then, in God’s great mercy, I was able to fall asleep deeply for a few more hours while the sun and breeze slipped through the open window.”

[Note: This was the only night of the sabbatical that God met in this way. It was profound yet simple. It was a pivotal moment for me, and I feel like I’ve been made new in some deep and lasting ways.]

11. LIBRARIES (AND GOOD LIBRARIANS) TURN STRANGERS INTO FRIENDS.

Day 55 & 62—Millstreet, Co. Cork, Ireland

Journal Entry: “The little library nearby in the village of Millstreet and its energetic, courteous librarian have been a godsend and an anchor to our days in this rural place. We also enjoy the DVDs we can borrow with our new Irish library cards! “

“Spent the morning working on chapter outlines for the book. I was able to focus deeply for several hours, which felt good. We left for the library a bit early so we could stop at the florist on our way. I wanted to give Gillian some flowers as a thank you for her kind hospitality to us during these two weeks. It felt comforting to have a familiar face to visit each day without it being an obligation. Also, every librarian in the world should be like her!”

[Note: The farm cottage in Co. Cork was exactly the kind of stay we needed for two weeks, but it was sparse—Brian refers to it as “monastic”—and without wi-fi. Since I was working on my book, the little town library became the perfect “home office.” We visited it ten times in two weeks. It felt like we were saying goodbye to a dear friend when we left!]

Gallarus Oratory (Co. Kerry) - holy ground on the Slea Head Drive

12. WE WANT TO LOVE THE CHURCH AND THE WORLD IN THE RESTFUL WAY OF IRELAND’S EARLY CHRISTIANS.

Day 66—Slea Head Drive on the Dingle Peninsula, Co. Kerry

Journal Entry: “We were most transported by the unmarked stony remains of an early Christian sight featuring the world-famous “Reask Stone.” The simplicity, beauty, and imagination totally captured me. I kept thinking of our games as children making “houses” out of leaves or cleared out tall grass. There’s a childlike brilliance that helped me fall more in love with Celtic roots of Christianity.”

[Note: We love Ireland. I don’t know why I often feel the need to apologize for that, but I do. Maybe because, in terms of international travel, this is beginner-level. From the flight length to the language, it’s not a giant culture shock. It does require driving on the opposite of very twisty, turny, low-visibility roads, which, thanks be to God, Brian is highly competent. It’s not a foodie mecca or a fashion mecca. The Roman Empire didn’t even bother with Ireland, which on reflection, might be part of the draw for me. What you see is what you get from the beginning of civilization. Eventually, Rome—in the form of the Church—made its mark. For good and for ill, the British Empire did the same. The Cathedrals and monasteries make this evident. Yet, for those with eyes to see, the spiritual soil of Ireland, which in its earliest form included and embraced Patrick, is the authentic spirituality of a people rooted and beloved in place of Ireland. It’s in the nature of Christianity to send and to go, and the Celts did just that (which has been named beautifully as the “Irish saving civilization”), yet Ireland remains a geography of the Celtic soul, and I find it irresistible. It is, in fact, a thin place between me and heaven.}

Looking out from the altar window in the oratory.

Riasc Monastic Settlement - Dingle Peninsula's Early Christian Site

Ardmore (Co. Cork) - monastic round tower on Declan’s Way (which we also loved in our 2016 visit)

A projection of the Book of Kells which we saw with our very own eyes at Trinity College in Dublin. I cried.

13. I LOVE BRIAN MURPHY EVEN MORE THAN EVER.

Day 1 of the next seven years - Bridgeport, CT

On our first Sunday back at the Church of the Apostles, Brian said it about me first. It caught me by surprise and made me cry a little bit. But I feel the same way, and I don’t take it for granted. To be married for (almost) 32 years and to be able to grow closer together as we continue to grow in our love for Jesus and ourselves is an astounding grace. (Even better than charcuterie!)

Brian’s not the only person I now love more than ever. In the lavish abundance of God’s restful economy, the love of God enlarges, rather than diminishes, my capacity to love God, others, and my own self.

I listen again to our friend and pastor Etienne's prayer over us as we left for sabbatical three months ago: “Brian and Tamara, may the peace of the Lord Christ go with you wherever He may send you. May he guide you in the wilderness and protect you in the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors. May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you and those you love. Amen.”

Thanks be to God for hearing our prayer.

Amen.