People engaged in Church ministry have meetings to attend and lead, liturgical and devotional services and parish activities to be announced and prepared. There are disabled and poor persons, vulnerable children and adults who need protection and safety and hours of attention. It can become discouraging and confusing when all these needs seem to grow exponentially, and the responsibilities that grow with them fall on individuals.

When I lived in Michigan, I met regularly with the DREs active in a number of vicariates. Somewhat jokingly and bitterly, I heard more than one of them say that DRE didn’t mean Director of Religious Education but Directly Responsible for Everything. 

A priest who served several ethnic and linguistic communities made an unduly long pause at an early morning Mass. People in the pews were so concerned that they called the parish to report that they thought he might have had a stroke. What actually happened, he explained, was that as he moved through the Eucharistic Prayer, which he always recited from memory, he suddenly couldn’t remember if he was supposed to be saying it in English, Spanish or Cambodian.

The question before all of us in this 24/7 world is how we might do holy multitasking. While people expect instantaneous responses and immediate results, often unreasonably, there can be crises in the workplace or ministry situations. On the home front, needs can crop up that are not only disrupting but grave with potential life-or-death consequences. It’s one thing to get a ladder and replace batteries in the smoke alarm. It’s quite another to be told that the person you accompanied to urgent care has to have emergency surgery as soon as possible. Life can rattle us.

So, when the literal or figurative smoke clears, we need respite. Devotions and quiet moments can help.

The silence of an adoration chapel proves healing. Our eucharistic Lord embraces us in that special stillness. But a pause on the back porch when lights are down and everyone else is asleep can also be restorative. We might say a rosary, a chaplet or mutter a few monosyllabic words and just listen. It is in these times that we commune with God — and it is not irreverent to be frank with him without filter. I’ve known a number of people who have voiced their frustration, helplessness or need for comfort, and simply told God, “I’ve had it. You fix it.”

Aside from that, there are those small pleasures that can bolster us, too. Perhaps we need to indulge in a few needless tasks like slightly rearranging furniture, washing the car, doing a jigsaw puzzle or going for a ride on a country road. We all need spiritual and temporal “breathers.” 

As summer draws to a close and activities accelerate, we must find ways to remember that the Lord himself took breaks, even small ones sometimes. He went to visit Martha, Mary and Lazarus. He took to the hills by himself to pray. And, with his knowing, compassionate heart, he invited all who labor and are heavily burdened to come to him for rest.