A Call to Worship for Setting an Out of Office Response

Because Ministry Is a Blessing—and Also, I’m Tired.

This is not just an out-of-office reply.

This is a liturgy for letting go.

Before the beach chair unfolds.

Before the top of my bald head gets a little too much sun.

Before I spend too much on a seafood dinner that comes in a plastic basket…

I pause to say: thank You, Lord.

Thank You for the gift of ministry—so fulfilling, so sacred, so exhilarating… and also so completely, entirely exhausting.

Thank You for calling me into the beautiful chaos of shepherding souls, crafting sermons, praying big prayers, and laughing until I cry with teenagers.

But thank You too for commanding rest. Not as a suggestion. Not as a reward. But as a rhythm of trust.

Because I am not You. I am not sovereign. I am not omnipresent. I am not even very good at turning off email notifications.

But You, Lord, are the God who neither slumbers nor sleeps.

You hold all things together—not by my Google Calendar—but by the power of Your word.

So as I slip away for a week of slow mornings and sandy toes, I do so in the confidence that Your Spirit is still at work even when I’m not.

That the gospel keeps advancing even when my feet are propped up.

That the church belongs to Jesus, not to me—and that’s really good news for everyone.

Thank You for vacations that remind me I’m not indispensable.

Thank You for laughter, fresh seafood, and board games with family members.

Thank You for space to breathe.

And most of all, thank You for the gospel that frees me not just to work with passion—but to rest without guilt.

Jesus didn’t rise from the dead to make me more productive.

He rose to make me whole.

He invites the weary to come to Him—not for a few PTO days—but for soul-deep rest that no time clock can give.

So this out-of-office message is a declaration:

I am offline.

But God is not.

The Kingdom is not on pause.

Grace is still flowing.

And my identity is still secure—even if my voicemail is not.

Amen