The closest I ever got to a POW camp experience was three-a-day practices in 95-degree heat and 90% humidity at a New Jersey football camp in 1974. After filing complaints about the dining hall at the camp, the Board of Health arrived and promptly condemned it. Unfortunately we still had several days before returning home. Sleepless nights in mosquito-infested, humidity-drenched cabins, rancid food and scorching days on the field made us desperate for relief. We needed to cancel practice and get the coaches’ attention. But how?
Motion sickness—the perfect illness. Jack was the first to “get it.” It spread faster than the black plague and players were dropping from the practice field like paratroopers on D-Day. Short of an all-out mutiny it was a last ditch effort to prove that we were not just complaining—we were coming apart at the seams. The combined effect of bad food, record heat and sleep deprivation were taking a heavy physical and psychological toll.
It worked. The rapid spread of motion sickness brought everything to a standstill. Someone was sent to buy real food, practices were shortened and we started doing to two-a-days. We made it through, but it took weeks to return to full strength. (The average weight loss was 11 pounds and upon retuning home scores of guys needed treatment maladies involving the digestive system.)
Sometimes I wonder if teams, small groups, and church members suffer from a kind of motion sickness. And I wonder if it is contagious. Whatever the cause, it strikes quickly and soon reaches epidemic proportions. Willing servants—sometimes overworked and undervalued—start heading to the ministry sidelines in droves. Too much change; too much action; too much motion.
They say they are dropping out, sitting down or stepping back because of work commitments, family obligations or personal needs. Perhaps. But maybe it’s a strain of motion sickness. There’s just too much activity; too many events; too many requests. And not much soul care. When this happens momentum is lost, souls shrivel and ministries falter. Scary stuff.
These days I am looking ahead and trying to avoid the overload—for me and the faithful leaders at Willow. Don’t want to see another epidemic of motion sickness. One where everyone just stops and says, “Enough!” One where all the ministry movement comes to a halt. And people start checking out. And soon everyone has it—Motion Sickness.
How are you building rest and space into the coming ministry season—for you and your leaders? Got any plans? I’d love to hear them. I bet your leaders would, too.
