Why I Took a Sabbatical: The Hidden Gem for Nonprofits and Ministries
Let me clarify from the start: When I say sabbatical, what I don’t mean is an extended four- or six-week vacation. I also don’t mean a long getaway with a project tied to it, like writing a book. What I mean is a minimum twelve-week break where you are completely unplugged from work, unreachable, and focused solely on rest.
But this kind of sabbatical is far from the norm.
In academia, professors often take sabbaticals to focus on research and producing content for the next season. Meanwhile, in corporate America, the term ‘sabbatical’ has largely been reduced to an extended vacation. With religious institutions, lead pastors of congregations will sometimes take summers off or take a sabbatical, but often there is still work, sermons, or books written - and it’s typically an opportunity only for the lead pastor.
Several years ago, I started to sense the urge to take a sabbatical. I really didn’t know what it meant, I just knew I was so tired and weary and wanted longer than a week’s break. I had spent over a decade at that point in nonprofit leadership, serving some of the most abused and marginalized teens in our community. Swimming in lives and stories of trauma every day for a living had taken its toll.
And then, there was the business side of leading a growing non-profit. In less than five years we had tripled in growth - financially and in staff. We charged through uncharted territory, trying to make wise organizational decisions while walking alongside the hundreds of families we served in the middle of COVID-19. Between the demands of fundraising, HR, and no shortage of legal issues - coupled with the weight of our mission - it was more than I ever imagined I could take on as a leader.
Nonprofits and ministries whose missions involve working on complex human and social issues do some of the hardest, most significant work in our world. Yet most of their funders, donors, and board members expect them to always be available, work on shoestring budgets, and get paid pennies. I’ve spoken with countless professionals in the helping sector who earn meager salaries and receive only two weeks of PTO. (Thankfully, this wasn’t my personal experience, but it’s the unfortunate norm in our field.)
The unspoken expectation in the non-profit/ministry sector is that you give all of yourself. After all, this is a calling. This is God’s work. You are on mission. Our workers are exhausted and our organizations under-resourced.
All the while, we’re over here trying to solve deep, systemic human issues with no simple answer and certainly no R&D budget to risk trying things outside the box.
The scarcity mentality has plagued the nonprofit sector for far too long.
We could never give people that much time off.
How would all the work get done?
We would never have the budget to do something like that.
Everything would fall apart if that person left.
We’re just always trying to make ends meet.
It just doesn’t seem realistic for us to do that.
Our teams can’t exist in organizations with a poverty mindset while trying to solve systemic issues like poverty. There must be a better way.
I’d like to submit to you that I don’t think money is the best and only answer. Oh, it definitely helps, and there’s much more to say about paying more than livable wages for some of the hardest jobs in our world. But I believe at the end of the day, healthy leaders and teams are a much more valuable commodity.
We are human beings, not human doings. If our work isn’t rooted in a deep sense of being, it won’t create the impact we hope for - no matter how hard we push. Especially in the people-helping profession, we desperately need breaks from all of our doing so that we can just be.
Sabbaticals are an investment. They are an investment in people - in both the person taking time off and those who step up in their absence, gaining new opportunities to grow and lead. Research increasingly supports the benefits of sabbaticals for nonprofits and ministries. If you’re interested, I’d be happy to share insights from my years of research.
So back to my story.
I wasn’t fully burned out, but I had a gut feeling that my leadership style wouldn’t sustain the next stage of our organization’s growth. I wasn’t ready to leave the organization, but knew deep down I needed a significant break to grow, evolve, and shift as a person.
After six months of research, a year of persuading the board, and another year of planning, I finally did it. In the summer of 2023, I took a sabbatical - and it changed both our organization and my life.
I submit to you that sabbaticals are one of the answers to changing the tide for the nonprofit sector.
In this season, I’m dedicating time to helping other leaders through advisory services, including sabbatical planning. If you’re interested, let’s connect.