Friday, August 1, 2003
Friday, August 1, 2003 |
| If
you really have to know, here's what I did on my summer vacation
By DAVID EPPS If you really have to know, here's what I did on my summer vacation Ministers get asked odd questions. For example, a recent question I received was, "What do ministers do when they go on vacation?" Not, you will notice, "What did you do on vacation?" Well, the question deserves an answer, I suppose. When ministers go on vacation, since they are out of the sight of nosey church members, they go to the dog track in the mornings, watch the Playboy channel in the afternoon, go to the bar in the early evening and, to cap the night off, take in a strip joint or two. No, not really. No, when ministers go on vacation, they go to a secluded place, perhaps to a monastery, arise at 4 a.m. each morning to pray for several hours, read at least 15 chapters from the Bible before breakfast, fast the rest of the day, spend the afternoon handing out religious leaflets at the beach and, to cap the night off, go to a revival service or a church meeting. No, not really. I have no idea what "ministers" do when they go on vacation any more than I know what "accountants" or "school teachers" do when they go on vacation. However, for those who are terminally curious, I offer a bit of information regarding how I spent my vacation last June. First of all, I needed this vacation. It had been a long, full year since my previous time away. During the past year, I finished the last course in my doctoral program, saw the completion of our new church building, rejoiced when a new grandchild was born, taught a seminar in California, spent two weeks in Australia, preached around 75 sermons, attended two convocations and three retreats, was present at the births of several children, preached a number of funerals, had gall bladder surgery, and lost my mother to death and preached her funeral. Then there was the normal load of church work, duties in the diocese, and police chaplaincy responsibilities. By the time my wife and I left for Florida, I was mentally exhausted, spiritually depleted, and physically spent. After a six-hour drive, we arrived at Cape San Blas, near Port St. Joe, and went to bed. The next five days were spent reading, resting, napping, and avoiding the telephone. In fact, for the first five days, I didn't even go to the swimming pool or walk to the beach, which was only about 30 yards away. I mostly read and watched some television. And I ate seafood. Lots and lots of seafood. Somewhere in that first week, we drove the 60 miles to Panama City and spent a small fortune at Books A Million. My wife is a voracious reader and can go through a book or two a day. She bought a zillion books and I went to the rare coin shop and purchased some genuine Confederate money printed in 1864. If the South ever rises again, I am now prepared. I also wrote, every other day, to our church members who are serving in Iraq, to a lady from our church on assignment for four months in India, to one of our young men in Marine Corps boot camp at Parris Island, and to my son in the U. S. Air Force. I bought some books, too. In fact, I read six books during that 12 days away, including "Father Mychal Judge" by Michael Ford; "Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire" by Jim Cymbala; "One Holy Fire" by Nicky Cruz; "Wild at Heart" by John Eldredge; "Territorial Spirits and World Evangelisation" by Chuck Lowe; and "Southern by the Grace of God" by Lewis Grizzard. I studiously avoided newspapers and news broadcasts. I figured the world would still be there at the end of my vacation. I did watch dozens of reruns of "M*A*S*H*." On the sixth day, I began to pray again. Truthfully, I was so tired that, for the first five days, I kind of "waved at God" just so he would know that I knew that he was still there. Mostly, I prayed for the members of my family and for the members of the church family, by name. After the fifth day, I also began venturing down to the pool and began to walk on the beach. I even tried surf fishing twice, with no success. During the second week, I made a few telephone calls, worked on a sermon, and wrote three articles for this newspaper. Oh, and I slept. I slept at least six to eight hours a night, a rarity for me, and dozed from time to time on the screened-in deck on the fourth floor of the place we were staying. It rained 10 of the 12 days we were in Florida but I didn't mind at all. I've always said, "A bad day at the beach is better than a good day almost anywhere else." Besides, the rain helped me to sleep. By the end of the 12 days, I was ready to get back to work. People at church said that I look refreshed and rested. They even said that I preached like Billy Graham, that I looked younger, and that I looked like I had lost a lot of weight. No, not really. [David Epps is rector of Christ the King Charismatic Episcopal Church, which meets at 8 a.m. and 10 a.m. Sundays. on Ga. Highway 34 between Peachtree City and Newnan. He may be contacted at FatherDavidEpps@aol.com or at www.CTKCEC.org.] |