The Reverend Christine V. Hides
I am delighted to return to Kenilworth Union after eight weeks of time spent traveling with family (the marvelous), writing my thesis (the mysterious), and taking care of too-long neglected tasks around the house (the mundane). I am grateful for the generous gift of this extended time, for my colleagues who filled in for me while navigating construction, and for the warm welcome I received in worship on Sunday. My heart is full and my spirit is rested.
My time away began with a 12-day trip to Peru with my husband Brian. We hiked the 26-mile Inca trail to Machu Picchu, enjoyed the lively city of Cusco, and visited the Amazon jungle. The mountain views, the ancient architecture, and the Milky Way across the night sky were all breathtaking. When we returned we celebrated Marielle’s graduation from DePaul, followed by time with my siblings and my new nephew, Aiden.
After these weeks of wonder and celebration it was time to lean into the discipline of morning writing and afternoon household tasks. I wrote about 12,000 words, 700 at a stretch. By word count, I am about halfway through my thesis. But the mystery of this type of writing is that the post-its on my neat outline move around as my thinking evolves and new insights emerge. I imagine a timelapse video would
look like sticky-note butterflies fluttering across and around the large butcher block canvas I hung on the wall of my home office. I will see where they land as my draft evolves. My mid-sabbatical afternoons were spent tending to chores including fixing the screen door latch and cleaning a closet or two. The garden I planted from seed grew lush and green. We shall see how much edible produce results in August. More mystery.
To close the eight weeks, Brian and I took our family to Olympic National Park in Washington. Now that both of our daughters are out of university, extended time together is a treasure. We hiked, kayaked in Lake Crescent, and played lots of board games. A particular highlight for me was experiencing the sacred silence near the “quietest square inch in the U.S.” located in the Hoh Rainforest. All I could hear was the brush of leaf upon leaf in the thick canopy above.
As we hiked back along the river’s edge a hymn came to mind. “Light Dawns on a Weary World” is about restoration and renewal of all creation. Katie Lancaster and I discussed it right before I departed. I sang it with a congregation that I visited. And, we will likely sing it in August. Thanks be to God for this refrain which echoes through and beyond my sabbatical:
The trees shall clap their hands;
the dry lands gush with springs;
the hills and mountains shall break forth with singing!
We shall go out in joy,
and be led forth in peace,
as all the world in wonder echoes shalom.
