Letter from Amy: Sept 24, 2025

I took this photo during a sabbatical hike in the Shenandoah valley. Fungus on a fallen log: beautiful things growing in settled places.

Dear Incarnation,

Many of you have asked me how my return from sabbatical has been (thank you!). I keep saying two words in response: gentle and overwhelming. Those may seem contradictory, and, well, I suppose they are. Sometimes multiple things are true at once!

My return has been gentle because our amazing staff did so much to prepare and debrief me (they are truly the best!); because our staff, vestry, and volunteers were so faithful in my absence; and because our community has been so warm and gracious in welcoming me back. It has been wonderful to jump back into the saddle these past three Sundays. I’ve appreciated your patience as I’ve answered so many of your Sunday morning questions with “I don’t know” — I’m still slowly figuring out where things go, who does what, and how things work at 9am at Beverley Hills. And I’ve been grateful to begin catching up outside of Sundays, too. Thank you, everyone, for making it such gentle and joyful re-entry!

My return has been overwhelming as I have realized just how much change the staff and vestry have managed while I was away. Behind the scenes, moving into Beverley Hills has been (and continues to be) a LOT of work — navigating new and complex relationships, putting in many long hours of physical labor, and figuring out how to do everything in a different way (twice, for two service time changes in a span of just three months). In addition, the staff and vestry are preparing for another big transition on the horizon, sending out our beloved Maryland folks as they launch a church in January.

We believe that all the work this summer will eventually result in more sustainable worship rhythms for our church, and will allow our setup/teardown energies to be redirected toward outreach and creativity. And we strongly believe that the Maryland plant is God’s clear next step for us. But it’s a lot, and these changes now need some time and space in which to settle.

So this fall, my focus in Virginia is on creating opportunities for that kind of settledness. After so much change, I want us all to settle in, enjoy all the benefits of this summer’s upheaval, and look together with renewed hope toward the future. Our fall retreat on Oct 3-5 will provide us an opportunity to do that together, and I’m so looking forward to it!

But beyond the fall retreat, what will all of this mean for us, practically, this fall?

• We’ll be sticking to the bare essentials of our life together (small groups, Sunday worship, vestry election…) and limiting other activities for a season so that the staff can rest. That means we will not hold a Saint Francis Day pet blessing this year, or a Halloween neighborhood bonfire, or an All Souls Service of Remembrance. (We will, however, still hold our All Souls/Saints cemetery walk — stay tuned for details!)

  
  

• This Sunday is our final Wild Wonder, a celebration of all the gifts of creation we’ve enjoyed together all summer long. Then, after the fall retreat, we will begin children’s programing on October 12. The new building provides us with beautiful, permanent Atrium spaces, but it also brings some challenges that we're still navigating (namely, an earlier service time, a smaller Atrium, and overlapping tenants). We will still be learning and adapting our children’s ministry throughout the fall, and I ask for your patience. Parents, stay tuned for more information!

  
  

• Katie will be gradually transitioning more of her time toward the Maryland congregation. That means that on the fourth Sunday of each month (starting this Sunday!), she will only serve in Maryland, not in Virginia. This subtle shift will allow her to rest and focus her attention Marylandward, and will allow all of us to slowly acclimate to the coming change.

  
  

• I’m encouraging the staff to take time off for rest, reflection, and recovery after working so diligently in my absence. So you might see slightly more of me and slightly less of them off and on throughout the coming months.

  
  

In such a disorienting time, I pray that you, too, might have a season of time, space, and settling. How is God speaking to you in this season? Where is God drawing your attention? How might you carve out a bit of rest in such wearying times? I'm praying for all of you.

With love,

Amy