Have you ever taken a sabbatical?

Most have never done so; I hadn’t. Sabbaticals are usually part of an institutional ethos, where long-time employees are allowed – often, encouraged – to frame a period wherein their own personal development will be their primary focus. Sabbaticals are not glorified vacations with no or limited value; instead, they are a time-period – sometimes 90 days, up to a year – with a sophisticated emphasis on issues leading to advancement in one’s personal development. The benefits are far-reaching.

In my life, 2022 became a virtual sabbatical. The year was under God’s sovereign control; that became apparent the first week of January ‘22 when I was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia – the most virulent form of leukemia, with a five-year survival rate of 29%. Early biopsies confirmed that I had a drastic complication with an untreatable gene mutation that dialed the survival rate down to < 10% at 12 months, starting with diagnosis.

For me, there were no lower-screen captions declaring “Sabbatical Underway.” While the consuming attention was paid to the critical medical issues that attended my treatment, the distinctives that’s would characterize a Sabbatical were clear and present. In keeping with the Old Testament framework for a sabbath year, all of Israel was to experience a recurring sabbatical year. For them, after six “normal” years, the seventh was a “work on hold for 12 months” reset that would value their vibrancy and demonstrate their dependence on God.

So, 12 months later: what’s different?

First up, God answered the prayers of thousands of friends and friends-of-friends who prayed that God would spare my life. I’ve had best-case outcomes through the last year; a fatal gene mutation reversed, I received the stem cell transplant that restored my ability to produce healthy blood in my bone marrow, and my med team at the City of Hope has declared my leukemia to be in remission (there is no “cure,” so that diagnosis is never offered; the odds of recurrence are 40% within five years).

But our community – people we know because of our mutual faith in Jesus and our personal commitments to live life to the greatest levels of Kingdom potential – expects more than “I’m alive and healthy because of your prayers.” Something in their mature knowledge of God looks for Sabbatical-quality discovery. The question is constant as I re-connect with friends: “So, what have you learned??” They want to know what 12 months traveling through the Valley of the Shadow of Death has taught me.

It’s a question that warrants a thoughtful reply. Authors think nothing of taking a year doing research and writing the first draft of their next tome. Is there something to be learned in the isolation of a hospital room – quarantined, for 11 weeks (total) – and nine more months of virtual disconnection while fulfilling the expectations of care as an outpatient? As I climb out of this dark space – the Year of Leukemia, after two Years of Covid – what’s in my personal journal that denotes this as a period when invaluable lessons with timeless wisdom have been archived deeply in my soul?

For the next couple of weeks, I’m going to allow you to look into my learnings and see if they have any value to you as well. Could my year of reflection project any positive perspectives into your increasingly virtuous life?

Some fair warning: when you’re dealing with God, His truth can be disruptive in the best ways imaginable…

Next week: don’t open your Point of View unless you’re up for some challenge!