Hibernation
published on Tuesday, January 12, 2010 by admin
If you are foolish enough to have given major bookstore chains your e-mail address, you may have noticed that you're being bombarded this month with discount coupons for self-help and diet books, since January is the month when we're all supposed to "Do something!" about our lives. The Connection also has succumbed to this annual temptation (see our posts on eating plans, advanced directives). But here's some counter-cultural advice: it's winter - make like a bear, and rest.
Did you get a wonderful book as a Christmas present? Or a lap blanket, or some comfy slippers? It's time to take advantage of them. The infant Jesus has been safely born and baptized; the Wise Men have come and gone. The gift of winter for pastors and lay people alike is that it can be the season of quiet rest before the growth spurt of spring.
Our colleague, the Reverend Ed Moore, points out that even Christ had to go away from crowds and followers on a regular basis in order to carry out his ministry. Can you permit yourself to be lazy, contemplative, unplugged for a brief time?
And given the challenges you face during the week, might you prefer the fellowship of [sleeping] bears?
To everything there is a season,
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
a time for every purpose under the sun.
A time to be born and a time to die;
a time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
a time to kill and a time to heal ...
a time to weep and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn and a time to dance ...
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to lose and a time to seek;
a time to rend and a time to sew;
a time to keep silent and a time to speak;
a time to love and a time to hate;
a time for war and a time for peace.
We're interested in your perspectives. How do you carve out time for yourself in the midst of a hectic week? Please share your thoughts in the comments section.
Yours in health,
Robin
Robin Y. Swift, MPH
Health Programs Director
Clergy Health Initiative

While his mother had completed and filed advanced directives for her care in the hospital, she had never considered what might happen if she collapsed at home. My friend certainly wouldn’t want burly emergency medical technicians to start CPR on his 71-pound mother, but he’d never asked her how she felt about a "do not resuscitate" statement. Then he realized, as did I, along with the rest of our circle of friends, that
I don't know about you, but I think that my risk of experiencing sudden death in 2010 from sitting next to a terrorist in flaming underwear on a flight from Amsterdam to Detroit is fairly low. But the risk of dying because someone used a cell phone while driving, or because I used one myself? That’s a lot higher: