The First 48 Hours

It’s time for my first official sabbatical post, though to be honest, the start-of-sabbatical retreat was a little rocky. Everything I’ve read, along with the testimony of friends who’ve trod the path before me agreed that it would be, but I was still taken by surprise. Even still, there was much that was good:

This place is seriously gorgeous!

I took my retreat at Caledonia State Park, which, if you've never visited, you NEED to. First thing I did was take a hike. I found within the first half-mile that I’m way out of shape. Once upon a time, three-day backpacking expeditions were a favorite activity, but after a half-hour of walking up the side of a hill I was spent. Several times I considered just turning back, but something kept me going. Maybe it was the embarrassment of giving up so easily, maybe it was the Holy Spirit (sometimes they can feel pretty similar!), but I pushed past the burning calves and panting, and after about a mile, I found I was moving easily and enjoying the gentle sounds of virgin forest.

The view from about halfway down Charcoal Hearth Trail

In some ways, it was a little like campus ministry. It’s taxing work, and I’ve often wondered if I could make it over the next hurdle. But somehow, the Father has sustained me and brought me through to gentle, pleasant paths. I also saw a less flattering parallel – is it possible that in coaching my people toward spiritual fitness I’ve neglected my own? The physical challenge of what should have been an easy hike was surprising, but I’ve learned that those jarring moments of discovery are often used by the Lord to show you things you might not otherwise have been able to see. I have some ideas on where I might have some spiritual flab or atrophy to work on, but that’s perhaps best left for another post...

ew.

The low point hit around dinner later that night. Alone and hunched over my bowl of ramen noodles, surrounded by the sounds of happy families in the other campsites, I briefly considered packing up and heading home. Like on the trail, the temptation to give up was strong, but something kept me there. I was hungry for Jesus and knew that staying would be a small way I might see him more clearly.

I’m glad I stayed, and didn’t give into loneliness, because after a truly pathetic evening, the Lord gave me a sound night’s sleep, and the next morning I rose with the sun. I spend some time reading one of my favorite books, Richard Foster’s Celebration of Discipline, in which he explores the discipline of solitude. His words were an antidote to the loneliness of the previous day:

Seriously, get a copy! Bonus points
if you get it from Hearts and Minds.

“Jesus calls us from loneliness to solitude… Loneliness is inner emptiness. Solitude is inner fulfillment… If we possess inward solitude we do not fear being alone, for we know that we are not alone. Neither do we fear being with others, for they do not control us. In the midst of noise and confusion we are settled into a deep inner silence. Whether alone or among people, we always carry with us a portable sanctuary of the heart.”

These words framed the prior day’s experiences. I was (and often am) lonely, not solid. Seeing this played out during the previous 24 hours was eye-opening, and let me know I was on the right track.

Ending this Week and Beginning the Next In Prayer

This week is going to be very full. Tomorrow is Ellie’s and my 9^th anniversary, and we’re taking a day-trip to  Baltimore to celebrate! Later in the week I’m cleaning out my home office (you might be surprised at how much debris a full year of ministry leaves behind!), helping a neighbor pour concrete for a home improvement project, and taking a weekend canoe trip with some buddies from church. Thus, I begin this week with prayer, and I invite you to pray with me…

Father, please teach me to rest and to let go of my need to justify myself with accomplishment. Teach me to live in the moment and to appreciate the beautiful company of my family, the challenge of physical work, and the camaraderie of Christian fellowship. Jesus, please deliver me from fearful loneliness, and bring me to a place of inner stillness. Holy Spirit, help me to give honor to you with these efforts, and give me discernment on spending my time, viewing it as abundant and not scarce. In the name of Christ, Amen