I am a few nights away from wrapping up the *checks notes* longest vacation I’ve taken since 2009. It came at a great time. Life is in a good, but busy, season. I didn’t feel like I was dragging myself to the day of departure. Even as I was loading the car I was reminding myself that vacation had to happen between my ears just as much as in my flip flops.

As per usual, the big family summer trip was down to Virginia. Time with grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles is always something we all look forward to. It is a stone’s throw from where my wife and I spent a number of our younger years, so there is that relaxing sense of familiarity as well.

And, of course, there’s the outdoors. I’ve long maintained the spectacular value of being an outdoorsman in the Old Dominion state. We were up hiking in the Shenandoah National Park every other day. We fished every single night. Every moment that we could, we sat outside and looked as birds flew against the backdrop of the Blue Ridge.

I’m not a strict Sabbatarian, but I do take my day of rest pretty seriously. I know that I, as a human, am not meant to go full-tilt for seven days in a row. Latching onto that clearly articulated principle that is baked into the cake of creation is something I encourage my family, my congregation, and anyone within earshot to embrace. Everyone, and everything, flourishes when given rest.

Similarly important (and similarly revealed) is the necessity of taking other, longer days of rest for relaxation, for recreation, for celebration, and for reflection. A week-plus in Virginia did that for me. Largemouth bass, mountain vistas, creek splashing sessions, good food, good drink, uninterrupted reading, long runs, lots of laughs, and time doing nothing.

It is what we are made for, every once in a while.