Somewhere in the midst of the swirl, I'm trying to find worthy words to share with you.
It's the same place I was last week, after I'd worked nearly 'round the clock for five days on an intense project and then had the chance to host my sister in our home for four days. When I got to Sunday, I was spent. I felt like my brain took a holiday.
This week has been similar. Another client project — two, actually — and I'm pulling 12-hour days and working my way through the weekend again.
The truth is, I've been sheepish telling you about this. After the grand threshold we crossed together in June, where I followed Christ out upon the open waters of faith into my true vocation of full-time work for Still Forming, the summer took a surprising turn back into client work.
It's been providential, I know — a way to pay the bills for a few months in order to buy some time to keep creating — but it's been rigorous and quite disorienting. I have had to face disappointment and confusion.
And it's landed me here: tired, without many words.
I'm thankful that today, in the place I stand, I'm beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. The extra work is almost done, and there's continued movement forward on projects like the Soul Online (thanks in no small measure to Kirk, who has turned out to be my ultimate partner in crime on this new initiative!). I'm pretty sure that next week, I'll have some fun updates to share with you on that front.
But today, as last week, I most need rest. And I'm sending this to you in faith that somehow it's okay for me to tell this truth to you. I'm hoping that if rest is what you also need, you'll find the grace and courage to let yourself receive it.
Thinking of you, and looking forward to a return to our regular rhythm of Sundays shared in quiet holiness together. Perhaps today, even though it looks different than usual, it still holds some of that gift.