It’s Monday of the second full week of my supposed-to sabbatical. I was supposed to be in Ventura, CA, on the beach, for the month of June during my sabbatical. I was supposed to be walking dunes and eating at quaint cafes before taking long naps in the afternoon. I was supposed to be visiting with friends and colleagues. I was supposed to be reading and writing, free of the ordinary concerns of home and church.
But, several pulmonary embolisms later, my doctors have advised me that travel is questionable and staying by myself (however charming the accommodations) is out of the question. So, I’m trying to take sabbatical time at home. Ha! It turns out that my supposed-to sabbatical involves a whole lot of housework, because—you know—I’m home, so there are seven loads of laundry, [Read more…]