Attendance is down. Giving is down. We’ve had 3 people move into assisted living so they won’t be coming anymore. I am freaking out. This great momentum we’ve had with our 5th anniversary of dinner gatherings, 9 new members joining at Pentecost, and the success of Steele Street School has suddenly stopped. Basically everything sucks and we are going to fail.
And then I take a breath and remember it is August. I look back at the historical data and see that often this has been a slow month. I recognize that I’m tired. Not in a sleep deprived way, but in a we just ran a summer day camp kind of way. And I know that my people are tired too. It makes sense that in these last few sunlit weeks before fall begins that we take a breath. And it is holy to have fallow periods, when we don’t have to be so intense about our Parish life.
In our world where capitalism means constant growth it can be hard to weather these holy seasons of rest, of quiet, of stillness. Jayde pointed out how oddly vacant the calendar was for the rest of the month and we both double checked it to make sure we weren’t missing something. We weren’t, it’s just a season of not doing; a season of being, and of reflecting.
I’m trying to adjust to the rhythm of August. As someone who has worked so long and so hard to grow and to succeed with SFC this is difficult, which makes me think it might just be the holiest thing I could be doing right now.
If you need me for the rest of the month I’ll be off talking to God, trying to let myself sink into the slowness of this season, and figuring out how to enjoy the slump for the gift that it is.
Eilidh
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