Before I post this, I want to acknowledge that I have not written in almost 4 years. That's completely crazy to me, but alas, here we are. That having been said, hello again.
As most of us have been, I’ve the last 13 days looking back at
the last year and remembering examining wondering what the
heck just happened contemplating the weirdness that was 2020. So much of
what’s in my head has been said by all the people in all the ways in all the
places. I won’t put my own spin on all of “that,” but I have noticed some
incredible timing that I want to rehash here.
In November of 2019, Doug and I went to Arkansas to
celebrate our 15th anniversary. I had a mild
meltdown/breakthrough/come-to-Jesus with myself out there in the woods. I have
done this to myself every year for the last bazillion years and once more, I
found myself in a place where I had far too many balls in the air, far too many
hats on my head, and far too few moments of peace sprinkled throughout. When we
got away from the noise of everyday life, it was so incredibly quiet that I
felt overwhelmed by the silence. I can remember sitting on the couch at our little
AirBnB drinking my coffee and just looking at the lake and the fall leaves. I
remember thinking to myself, “I should be DOING something! But I just don’t
want to…” When we came home, I posted a long tirade on Facebook about how tired
I was of doing all the things for all the people and I just. Wanted. To. Slow.
Down. Many of my friends and family reached out and shared that they felt the
same way but none of us knew what the heck to do about it.
Later that week, I was up at Lia’s school serving
Thanksgiving lunch (another hat I really didn’t want or need to be wearing)
when I had a conversation with my friend Lindsey, and she shared with me that
she had been feeling much the same way and how refreshing it was to know she
wasn’t alone. Then she shared with me that she’d been listening to a podcast
called Fight Hustle, End Hurry by two preachers who had recently written two
books about slowing down and culling the extra things in your life. I logged on
as soon as I left the school and started listening. I was hooked. The show had
just launched in October and was set to be an 11-week series about fighting
hustle and ending hurry. Show topics included Hurry, Hustle, Silence, Sabbath,
Simplicity, and Slowing Down – all things that I was in desperate need of. I
couldn’t wait to hear the next episode. I couldn’t wait to hear these “radical”
ideas about leaving your phone at home while you go to the grocery store, how
to implement a Sabbath with your family, how to have a media detox (I recognize
that none of these things are rocket science, but in this day and age, these
ideas ARE radical).
As soon as I finished devouring the podcast, I bought both
authors’ books and devoured those as well. Some of their ideas were so exciting
that I couldn’t wait to get started. Some of these ideas were so “out there” that
I was scared to give it a go (Sabbath and technology detox, for example – but more
on that later). I decided it was time and we tried to make some changes. I talked
to my family about how I was feeling and what I wanted to do about it, and we
started making changes.
What I wanted to do most was to stop doing so many things, but
that was thing that was hardest for me. All of the things we do as a family are
GOOD THINGS. Scouts is good for character development, leadership, and social
interaction. Chess is an intellectual pursuit that engages your mind in such a
unique way and teaches sportsmanship, strategy, and decorum. Water polo is incredible
stress relief for my ADHD, anxious child (as well as for my kiddo who doesn’t
struggle with either of those things but benefits from water polo in many other
ways) that teaches teamwork, critical life-saving skills (like treading water
and just generally being comfortable in the water), and how to work hard for a
common goal. Jeff Bethke and his wife go through a process annually where they
write down all the things on index cards and put them down on the table. They
have to make a conscientious choice to pick those things back up and keep them
for the coming year. I was so not there. I couldn’t’ even write the things on
index cards, much less ask my kids to give up anything. So we didn’t, but I slowly
started taking off some of my hats – PTA for the junior high. Ok fine. I took
off one hat, but then I got a second job, so that just shifted where my time
was invested.
In February, I continued to pray in earnest for God to show
me where we could cull, what things we could cut, how we could pare down our
lives to slow down and enjoy life. I was really feeling convicted by the things
that John Mark and Jeff were saying about the “pace of Jesus” and the “way of
Jesus.” He came to this earth to show us how to live. Was he ever in a hurry?
No. When Lazarus died? No. When Jairus’s daughter was sick? No. When giving the
sermon on the mount? No – he literally stopped what he was saying to look at
the birds of the air (Matthew 6:26) and to tell the people to do the same. Granted
this illustration was exactly what he needed, but he goes on to consider the
flowers (Matthew 6:28). In the middle of the most well-known sermon ever
preached, Jesus is stopping to smell the flowers. He was SO not in a hurry. Add
this to the list of things I need to learn from Jesus… As John Ortberg put it, “I
cannot rest in God with a hurried soul.” Once again, convicted.
Even with all this knowledge and all this conviction, I
still didn’t know what to DO about it. I couldn’t bring myself to cut our
activities, but I did take a 14-day break from Facebook (more on that later). Following
that, I left my phone at home to go to HEB (which was oddly liberating – I spoke
to people in the aisles and took my time picking out my produce, which was SO
2019… we don’t even GO to the store anymore…). The scariest but most fruitful
step of all, we practiced our very first Sabbath.
Here’s what that looked like: One Friday afternoon in late
January, we all came home from school and work, finished all of our things for
the week (emails, homework, reports, etc.), and we *turned off our phones.* We
collected tablets from the kids and stored everything in the closet so we wouldn’t
be tempted to check the weather or see who that text was from or check out
Pinterest for a recipe. I had learned from Comer that Sabbath should be almost
like a mini-Christmas where you celebrate, rest, enjoy your favorite meal,
spend time together, pray, and just BE in the presence of each other and the
Lord. I remember talking to my parents beforehand to let them know not to worry
if they couldn’t reach us and my dad thought we’d gone a little nuts (you’re
probably thinking the same thing). I had spent the day cleaning so that nobody
would need to spend the weekend doing any chores (which my kids were 100% on
board with). I went to the grocery store to get everything we needed for a delicious
meal so we wouldn’t even need to leave the house.
Here’s what happened next: We prepared a meal together that
was a mashup of everybody’s favorite things. We actually lit candles. I got out
cloth napkins and the nice glasses and set the table. We locked the dogs out of
the kitchen. We sat down at the table together and we prayed for God to bless
our time of rest. We weren’t in a hurry to finish our meal because we had
nowhere to go and nothing to get back to. We had a wonderful conversation (I
had some “scripted” questions I had prepared so that we wouldn’t go down some
rabbit hole of Minecraft or Magic the Gathering or of whatever YouTube video we
were obsessed with at the time). We talked about what we were looking forward
to during this weekend of rest and what we were nervous about – I was worried
my parents would need help and wouldn’t be able to get in touch, but thankfully,
that didn’t happen. We finished our meal, cleaned up together, and sat down to
play our favorite game. We may have stayed up a little later than usual with
plans to sleep in the next day. Saturday was a lowkey day, so lowkey I don’t
remember what we did or what we ate. I do know we slept in, read, and went for
a walk. Sounds lovely, yes? Our Sabbath ended Sunday after church, so not quite
48 hours. We all agreed it was something we wanted to do again, so we scheduled
one for February (which looked remarkably like the January Sabbath – kind of
like Christmas, we have traditions we want to repeat over and over again… no
need to recreate the wheel every time we do this!).
Enter March… remember what I was saying about being too
scared to put all of our index cards on the kitchen table? Ha. Ha ha. Ha ha ha.
Every index card we’d ever thought we “needed” was casually ripped out of our
hands and tossed in a pile on the kitchen table. No warning. No gradual reordering
of priorities. Everything ceased to exist except for the things that actually
matter most. When I had my mini meltdown in the foothills of the Ozarks in
November, I could have in no way imagined the steps that I would take in the
coming 4 months that would lead me to a place of perfect peace and acceptance
of the crazy that was the pandemic of 2020. Let me be clear – this is NOT what
I prayed for when I asked God to help me slow down but it sure did do the
trick. While all the index cards were on the table, a natural reordering took
place. Chess club stopped. Scouts stopped. Water polo stopped. Running club
stopped. Small group moved to a virtual format and Daniel was able to participate
in Bible study for the first time in almost a year. Guess what moved to the top
of our priority list for 2020? Church, family time at home, and lots and lots
of reading. Guess what we weren’t doing anymore? Everything else. Guess what
happened? We all learned to breathe again.
When things started to gradually open, we saw no need to
reengage in many of them. I am no longer married to a schedule. In fact, I
haven’t even put February in my bullet journal yet. We learned to sleep in a little.
We learned to walk more places. We learned to slow down, which was my initial desperate
plea with God and the universe. Who knew it would take a pandemic to help me reorder
my life? While I’m not grateful for the pandemic, I am grateful for some of the
changes it has forced into our lives. Here’s an example…
Last weekend, we took a trip to San Antonio to spend some
time together (our work schedules didn’t align – I worked Thanksgiving and
Christmas; Doug worked New Years). We hopped in the car on New Years Day and
drove to San Antonio. It took us over 6 hours make a ~3ish hour drive with an unscheduled
stop in Schulenberg for black-eyed peas and cabbage at Schobel’s. Pre-pandemic
Sheri would have been in the race of her life to beat Google Maps’ ETA to our
hotel with a detailed agenda of where we were eating when we got there, what activities
we would do while we were there, and a minute-by-minute plan with maps, links,
and apps to help us along the way. Post-pandemic (or mid-pandemic…?) Sheri just
got in the car and started driving west. We had no itinerary, no apps, no maps,
no links, and no problems. Prior to covid, we would have flown through the
Bucee’s and eaten trail mix and beef jerky so we could make better time. In
2021, that’s not the pace I’m living, and I am SO grateful. Those peas at Schobel’s
were top-notch and we enjoyed our conversation at the table rather than shoving
food in our faces as we drove, watched movies, and played games in our own
little worlds. On Saturday, we woke up, Googled “breakfast in San Antonio,” and
walked to the oldest restaurant in SA. We enjoyed our breakfast (so much so
that we went back on Sunday…) and started walking. Eleven miles later, we had
seen 3 of the missions along the mission trails and decided we were ready to
eat lunch. The original plan was to hike all 5 missions and Uber back to the
room. Pre-pandemic Sheri would have accepted nothing less. Post-pandemic Sheri
called an Uber at mission #3 and took us to lunch and called it a day. While I
won’t say it was a perfect day (kids are still whiny and ungrateful, even when
on vacation with a more chilled out version of their mom than they’ve seen in a
while), I can see indicators everywhere that I’ve made some positive changes
that are affecting our overall lives in a Gospel way.
When we got home, I decided it was time to listen to the Fight
Hustle, End Hurry podcast again. I argued that I didn’t get a fair shot at implementing
their ideas because COVID did it for me. After one episode, I have decided to
take another Facebook sabbatical. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone or if I’ll
even be able to return. Last time I did this, I only took 2 weeks off and I had
a hard time returning. The pace of life in the real world was incongruent with
the pace of life in social media and I felt like I had woken up in a different
time than the one I had left 2 weeks prior. Given today’s social climate, I’m
fearful (hopeful?) that a break will see such drastic changes in the social
media world that I will feel like Brendan
Fraser in Encino Man and I won’t understand the world around me. I’ll wake up
thinking I can drink directly from slurpie machines and then Lord only know
what might happen next (if you didn’t get that one, it’s ok).
For now, I plan to write weekly, post photos via Instagram
for our far and away families, and try to enjoy a slower, less outraged pace of
life. I hope you’ll keep in touch in other ways besides social media. While I
so enjoy getting to see what everyone is up to, I enjoy my sanity and a relaxed
pace of life even more than that. Send me a text. Invite me to coffee. Take a
walk with me. I hope to hear from you soon.
