Pastoral Letter: A Little Further, Still Held

Rest.
Not escape, but return.
Not stopping, but being restored.

We are away for a little while, and I am grateful for the ways God is giving us rest.

The children’s lively voices still fill the air around us, and my wife’s thoughtful care continues to carry our family through these days.

Even in unfamiliar places, there is a particular kind of joy in coming upon a sanctuary. And whenever we come across a United Methodist church,
something in us lights up with recognition and gratitude. In those moments, I find myself thinking of our SUM family—not far from my heart, even from far away—and sending up a brief prayer for you.

Here, the fields open wide, and cows move across them with an unhurried kind of peace. The hills keep unfolding beyond one another, and there are moments when the soul begins to remember what it is like to be led into rest again.

I lift my eyes to the hills more often here. The sun slips down beyond them,
and rises again in quiet faithfulness. Between sunset and sunrise, the darkness grows deeper than what we usually know in the city, and with it comes a sky full of stars—clear, steady, and easy to miss in the life we normally keep.

And somewhere in all of this, I realize how much I miss you—not just the work of ministry, but the simple grace of being together.

We will soon be heading farther into the mountains, so I wanted to send this note ahead of time.

I do not yet know what joys, surprises, or small lessons await our family in the days ahead. But I am trusting the Spirit, whose grace is often both gentle and sure, to keep leading us.

I look forward to gathering with you again in worship next Sunday. Until then, may the grace of Christ meet us where we are, and gently lead us into rest that restores.

Shalom,
Pastor DH