An Inkling
Every two or three months I take an afternoon apart for what I call a “silent retreat.” I go somewhere quiet, usually an isolated section of a park, and hang out with the Lord for an afternoon. I’ve discovered that some kinds of interactions can happen with the Lord in a morning prayer time, but other kinds need more time. Thus the silent retreat.
Typically I take my journal, a Bible, and some water. I hike, sit and ponder, and take time to notice what’s around me. After about an hour the busyness in my head slows, and I can focus and listen better. That’s one big advantage over my morning prayer time. And the Lord always has some means of speaking to me, making use of whatever scenes I’ve encountered. Sometimes he tells me a lot, and sometimes just a little. And I almost always have a lot to tell him – if not in substance, at least in length, for my journal grows by a couple of pages or more.
I have discovered two consistent realities about these times. First it’s always hard to find the time. Something has to be sacrificed in order to get apart with the Lord. (Actually, I think he has some intention in this.) And secondly, I am always grateful when I’ve made the time. He always has some surprising treasure in store.
Usually it’s not earth shaking, just edifying, and timely. For example, two weeks ago I was at Montreat for several days of study leave. I decided to use one of the afternoons for a silent retreat. I hiked the Rainbow Trail, up to Lookout Point, and back down. The leaves were at their peak, so it was a visual feast – blazing reds, oranges, and yellows.
I had not taken this trail before, but had a general idea of where it led. A number of other trails intersected it, so I had to make a lot of “fork in the road” decisions. The trail narrowed at points, but was always visible if I paid attention. Even so, I was grateful for the trail blazes that marked the way every quarter mile or so. Even though I could see the trail, I found the blazes reassuring.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to connect the dots between that hike and the walk of faith – the attentiveness needed to stay on the path, forks that force decisions, and the gift of timely trail blazes. I wrote a good bit in reflection on both what I was seeing and what God was showing me.
How do you get apart to be with the Lord? There are lots of ways to do it, and it’s more than worth the effort. And whether you’re taking your retreat via hiking or not, there will be blazes. The Trail Master assures it.
Happy Trails!
Keith
