Hard to Take a Break
Planning extended renewal leave, and what my journey is looking like right now
Life is Chaotic…but you know that.
I know haven’t written for a while — well, aside from my regular sermon writing that I do (so I guess I should say — I haven’t written and posted on here in a while). Because of that, I feel like my brain is fighting against me, in a way. I feel stuck in this loop that I should write, but also cannot conceive of what I could write — or even what you all would want me to write.
This feels all too normal for my life with ADHD.
Or at least, it feels like the best way to explain it…
(ADHD paralysis is what I believe they call it)
The strange difference is that this doesn’t just feel like a passing symptom or a moment of distraction. It feels like something deeper — a kind of inward pressure that makes even the act of starting feel overwhelming.
And when that pressure builds, I tend to do what many of us do: I wait, I put things off, and I tell myself I’ll come back to it when I have more clarity, more energy, more space.
If you are like me, then you probably exist (or even have existed) in a kind of quiet, constant tiredness.
For me, it doesn’t feel like burnout (I feel like over time, I have learned that feeling and how to differentiate it), but it does feel close.
Trying Another Path
And that is why I am considering something that feels especially uncomfortable, for me.
In the United Methodist Church, full-time pastors are given the ability to take what is known as, extended leave for spiritual growth and renewal.
Basically, this is an extended period of paid time off, to focus on self-care and spiritual-care — more so the aspects of of both that are focused on building practices that will aid me in returning to full-time work and ministry once complete.
I feel incredibly blessed to be a part of a denomination that recognizes the need for these extended periods of leave, and how the practice of them can help those who serve in ministry settings across the denomination.
Even though I am often perceived as an advocate for all practices of self-care — the idea of this leave has always felt daunting to say the least.
I first thought about taking this extended leave when I moved to my current appointment in 2020 (however, the “time never felt right…”). As time went on, I kept trying to find space to take the leave, but also kept making excuses on why the timing just wasn’t right at a given time.
I probably used every stock answer to push this leave off as I could
However, there is also another underlying reason it feels scary(?):
I have never been a person who has done well without a sense of purpose.
This is probably not the best way to phrase this; but basically, I always have to be doing something, and my work as a pastor is filled of things to do at all times.
Even as I plan this leave, I keep trying to think of excuses why I shouldn’t, can’t, or don’t need to take this time — or even to take as much time as I am requesting.
Why it feels tough for me
As an Enneagram 3, I definitely most connect with the nature of achiever, and even performer (words used when primarily defining Enneagram 3s), that is attached to how one would describe this enneagram number.
My mind is trying to process:
What I am going to “do” while I am on this leave?
How can I be “productive?”
Who can I please?
This inevitably leads me to pause and recognize that this leave is about me — a deeper part of me. It is meant to be a time when I can work on myself. Give myself the space to practice those things that make me the best human, husband, father, friend, and even reconnect with what makes me the best pastor I can be.
These moments are sacred and holy in their nature, and get lost when we become so entranced in who we think we have to be for others.
Moving Forward
I am slowly, but surely, trying to build a renewal leave that reflects the human being God has created me to be. To ensure I have the space to care for myself, while the church I serve is cared for as well.
This comes with a tough truth, I need to admit:
I don’t fully know what that means or looks like yet.
But, what I am doing, is beginning to trust that this isn’t something I have to solve before I step into it — before the decision to step out and decide to do it.
Maybe part of the work is simply allowing myself the space to not have the answer — to rest without needing to justify it, to receive without needing to produce something from it.
So as I move toward this season, both the uncertainty and the hope that comes with it, I want to be honest about what it takes to even consider it.
Not as someone who has figured this out (because who does?) — but as someone who is learning, slowly, what it might mean to actually receive rest.
And maybe that’s where this begins for more than just me.
I invite you to reflect with me:
What brings your brain, body, soul, and spirit rest and renewal?