Church Family Moment for Sunday, August 9, 2026
August 3, 2026As I look back on my three-month sabbatical, the word that rises above all the others is gratitude. I am deeply thankful to this congregation for giving me the extraordinary gift of time: time to step away from the constant rhythm of planning, rehearsing, preparing, and looking toward the next Sunday; time to rest, travel, study, worship, pray, and simply breathe.
When my sabbatical began, I knew I was tired, but I did not yet understand how much I needed to reconnect with myself. Church ministry is meaningful and joyful work, but it can gradually fill every available space until it becomes difficult to distinguish between who you are and what you do. This time away gave me the space to make that distinction again.
Some of the most renewing experiences were also the most ordinary. I spent meaningful time with family, celebrated friends, shared meals and long conversations, laughed on roller coasters, and traveled from the mountains to the beach. I walked without a destination, sat beside the water, and enjoyed moments that did not need to be productive or connected to ministry. In those experiences, I rediscovered the gift of simply being present.
Again and again, I felt the presence of God, not only in sanctuaries or formal worship, but in laughter, friendship, tears, nature, silence, and rest. God gently reminded me that I am loved not because of what I produce, lead, or accomplish, but because I am God’s beloved child.
One of the most memorable parts of the sabbatical was traveling through Germany, Austria, and Czechia. In Berlin, Leipzig, Salzburg, Vienna, Prague, and other places, I stood in magnificent churches where generations of Christians have prayed and sung. I visited the church where Bach served for nearly three decades, sat beneath historic organs, and heard music reverberate through sanctuaries that have carried the faith across centuries.
Those places connected me to a story much larger than myself. The Church has continued to sing through war, division, change, loss, and renewal, and I was reminded that our worship is part of that same living tradition. Yet some of the most spiritually meaningful moments were quieter ones: sitting in a pew and receiving worship rather than leading it, walking through creation, or spending nearly an hour in the attentive silence of a Quaker meeting. I learned that silence is not empty; it can be spacious and alive with God’s presence.
My sabbatical also included a national research project focused on the experiences of church musicians. Nearly 300 people responded to questions about calling, rest, worship, burnout, and Sabbath. Their stories revealed a powerful tension: many church musicians feel deeply called to their work, yet struggle to rest or to receive spiritually the worship they help create for others.
As I read their responses, I recognized parts of my own story. The research challenged me to think more deeply about how churches care for those who lead worship, and it will continue to shape the devotional resource I am writing about rest, worship, and the life of the church musician.
Most personally, this sabbatical allowed me to get back to me. I relearned things about myself that I had forgotten, reconnected with parts of myself that responsibility had crowded out, and remembered what brings me joy apart from my vocation. I rested more deeply, laughed more freely, and returned not as a different person, but as a more whole version of myself.
Thank you for trusting me enough to step away and for continuing the worship and ministry of the church while I was gone. Thank you for caring not only about what I contribute, but also about my spiritual, emotional, and personal well-being. This sabbatical was a sacred gift, and I am deeply grateful to be home. Now more than ever, I feel renewed, reconnected, and ready to continue singing, worshiping, and growing alongside all of you, the faithful servants and saints of South Mecklenburg Presbyterian Church.
