Almost a decade ago, I traveled to North Carolina for a week-long retreat on clergy wellness. It was an enriching time that allowed me to explore matters related to self-care while engaging in ministry, and I came away with much wisdom.
Near the end of our time, we watched a short film about the work of artist Andres Amador, who creates beautiful and complex patterns on beach sand. We were invited to reflect on the patterns, as well as the symbolism of their temporary state before the ocean washed them away.
We were then each given postcards with images of Amador’s work on them. Mine, pictured above, is titled Luscious Swirl, and you can find a better quality version here.
The idea with these postcards was that we would write messages to ourselves on them, and the leaders of the retreat would mail them to us at some future point. I had recently completed my spiritual direction studies and had just published my first book, and had both the need for creativity and rest on my heart and mind. And so, on my postcard, I wrote:
Teach them to pray. Tell stories. Make music. Find ways to write.
I didn’t intend anything flashy or complicated or high-minded. I just wrote a few things that I considered to be most important and central to my sense of call.
When I received my postcard a few months later, I appreciated seeing those words again. I wanted to hang onto this special reminder, and placed it in the front cover of the Bible I used to prepare for and read in worship.
I pulled it out earlier this year, and again the week I signed my call agreement with my new church. The words still embody what I hope to accomplish in this new ministry. Together we’ll seek to connect with God in the ways I know best: prayer, story, music, and writing. We’ll also do so through worship, education, and mission. None of it has to be fancy, or overly impressive, or worthy enough of bragging about on social media. It just needs to be faithful and engaging, which is all I’ve ever wanted ministry to be.
Here at the dawn of this partnership, I return to what I wrote to myself all those years ago. I’ve transferred this card to the new Bible that I now use, and plan to read these words regularly. I’ll keep them close, seeking ways to draw fresh patterns with simple, treasured wisdom.
Jeffrey A. Nelson 