Since then, for sixteen years, I've made myself too busy to seek out a big chunk of alone time with God. The craving in my soul only became more pronounced as Carla fulfilled a requirement for her Spiritual Direction certification last Fall. She spent six days at a retreat center in Iowa where she was left alone with God... remembering that she is in fact never actually alone. One of my coping mechanisms as I coveted my own alone time with God was looking forward to sabbatical.
Pastors are strange souls. Although the best ones know the wisdom of Sabbath - they teach the Commandments for crying out loud! - they can be very bad at resting. It would be like a dentist who doesn't brush her teeth. Or a mechanic who refuses to change the oil in his car. Many of the colleagues I have spoken with in my preparations for sabbatical told me they had a difficult time 'disconnecting'. This seems to be a problem that is not unique to pastors, of course. I have known many small business owners, farmers and others who say it takes three or four days or even a full week on vacation before they can start to relax. But a significant percentage of pastors, at least in my small sample size, were never able to experience true rest, even after three months away from their desk. I have a number of theories for this which I won't detail here but these stories moved me to devise a 'disconnection plan' for myself.
The plan was this: January 1 would be my last Sunday at First. January 2 would be my special college football feast (Go Badgers!). January 3 - 7 would be my first spiritually directed retreat at a hermitage on St. Jospeh's Ridge. Those five days would hopefully be a time to disengage from parish ministry and enter into an intentional time of personal re-connection with all those things I too easily neglect. I would sleep whenever I was tired. No alarm! I would eat whenever I was hungry. (I was on my own for meals.) And I would read or walk through the hills, or stay up all night or... whatever the Spirit moved me to do. The only constriction on all this freedom of time was a daily spiritual direction appointment at 3:00 in the villa.
How did the plan go? January 1 included a great worship service at First where I was formally blessed on my way. January 2 saw my Badgers win. During commercials, I packed up four suppers' worth of food, lots of salad fixin's and fruit for the rest of the week and Tuesday made my way to St. Joe's. It had rained over the weekend and then frozen hard soon thereafter. Roads were slick. This is significant because upon my arrival at the villa at St. Joseph, I was forced to keep my vehicle in the 'upper lot'. The quarter mile road that ends at the hermitages - they have three - begins with a sharp downhill slope. This meant my backpack full of books, suitcase full of clothes, grocery bags and all other supplies had to be carried. Did I mention it was 9 degrees? With a 20 mph wind? That's as warm as it would get throughout my time, by the way. The windchill Friday afternoon was more than 30... below.
The hermitages at St. Joseph's are simple, yet complete. Each has one room with a bed, a bath
room, a reclining chair, a full kitchen, a writing desk and a view of the woods and valley beyond. I was assigned the 'Sophia' hermitage. For real. (You may know my eldest daughter was also named for holy wisdom.) A coincidence?
All my preparations had been made. My family were already in the Bahamas beginning their adventure. I had no 'work' to do at First for three months. There was NOTHING left for me to plan, figure out or organize. The quiet was deafening. The absence of a to-do list was bewildering. But almost immediately, I could feel my soul exhale. And then I fell asleep.
Spiritual directors will tell you that it is not uncommon for those on retreat to sleep a lot. Most of us don't sleep enough and so our bodies oftentimes take advantage of retreats like these to catch up. This first nap of mine lasted almost two hours. I then had supper, read for a bit and went to bed around 10:00. I woke up the next day at noon. Seriously. There are only two other times in my life when I remember physically shutting down like that: 1) in high school after a National Youth Gathering in New Orleans when I think I averaged 3 hours of sleep per night for a week. As our 6 person youth group made our way home in a Dad's RV, I fell asleep in Baton Rouge and didn't wake up until the next day as we rolled past Stevens Point. 2) after the greatest three months of my life studying abroad in England, traveling throughout Europe and meeting Carla (it was like a 100 day adrenaline rush) I came home to Medford instead of taking a J-term class at Augsburg and mostly slept for two weeks. The first three days of my retreat at St. Joseph's felt a lot like that. My body heard the quiet as my mind received the release from responsibilities and my soul opened to the presence of God through deep sleep.
In my waking hours, I was becoming reacquainted with feelings, dreams and disappointments from the whole of my life. I was remembering people and events that had slipped away. It was not easy to read, reflect, journal, pray, wonder and confront MYSELF. I do these things for and with other people, a whole congregation of people, actually, every day. But I had not flexed my spiritual muscles and focused these practices on me much for the last fifteen years. It was about time.
My primary resources for this sabbath work were all the photographs I've uploaded to Shutterfly for 16 years plus two books: 1) Using the Enneagram in Prayer by Suzanne Zuercher and 2) Learning to Walk in the Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor. I could spend thousands of words recounting the many insights, discoveries and questions these two books brought out of me. But I'd rather simply say this: by being on retreat I had the time and space to slowly digest my thoughts, pray through questions and hear God's response through the bits of wisdom I've been taught my whole life, through Scripture stories that seemed to address me personally and through the spiritual director to whom God gave helpful words. My train of thought was never interrupted by a phone call, kids calling, "Dad, Dad, Dad..." or a screen of any kind. And so I am now able to name my greatest desire. I have thoughtfully concluded what I am most thankful for in this life. I am more aware than ever of how my preferences and personality build obstacles between myself and God. That awareness has led to a list of strategies and tactics that I know are able to overcome those obstacles.
But most of all, my time on retreat reminded me that prayer is not something to be 'done'. In my experience prayer is being in the presence of the holy which may or may not happen when I want it to. It may or may not happen on a Sunday morning, before a meal, before bed, or upon waking up. During my retreat I remembered that prayer happens unexpectedly and to be prayerful, I simply need to put myself in an abundance of situations where I may hear God more often. Or as Jesus says, "Stay alert!" The noise of my life, and my unwillingness to push back against my busyness had all but crushed my prayer life. On retreat, I remembered how to pray.
And so I commend retreating to you as it is a very faithful use of time. 'Leaving' your loved ones for 3-7 days may seem selfish or at least some level of crazy to our hyper-productive world which does not value quiet, being or prayerfulness. But I believe these 5 cold days in January may become the cornerstone for an entirely new prayer life for me which will transform every other part of my journey. It was not 'fun' or easy. I was happy to return home. But it was as faithful a use of time as I can imagine.
Pastors are strange souls. Although the best ones know the wisdom of Sabbath - they teach the Commandments for crying out loud! - they can be very bad at resting. It would be like a dentist who doesn't brush her teeth. Or a mechanic who refuses to change the oil in his car. Many of the colleagues I have spoken with in my preparations for sabbatical told me they had a difficult time 'disconnecting'. This seems to be a problem that is not unique to pastors, of course. I have known many small business owners, farmers and others who say it takes three or four days or even a full week on vacation before they can start to relax. But a significant percentage of pastors, at least in my small sample size, were never able to experience true rest, even after three months away from their desk. I have a number of theories for this which I won't detail here but these stories moved me to devise a 'disconnection plan' for myself.
The plan was this: January 1 would be my last Sunday at First. January 2 would be my special college football feast (Go Badgers!). January 3 - 7 would be my first spiritually directed retreat at a hermitage on St. Jospeh's Ridge. Those five days would hopefully be a time to disengage from parish ministry and enter into an intentional time of personal re-connection with all those things I too easily neglect. I would sleep whenever I was tired. No alarm! I would eat whenever I was hungry. (I was on my own for meals.) And I would read or walk through the hills, or stay up all night or... whatever the Spirit moved me to do. The only constriction on all this freedom of time was a daily spiritual direction appointment at 3:00 in the villa.
How did the plan go? January 1 included a great worship service at First where I was formally blessed on my way. January 2 saw my Badgers win. During commercials, I packed up four suppers' worth of food, lots of salad fixin's and fruit for the rest of the week and Tuesday made my way to St. Joe's. It had rained over the weekend and then frozen hard soon thereafter. Roads were slick. This is significant because upon my arrival at the villa at St. Joseph, I was forced to keep my vehicle in the 'upper lot'. The quarter mile road that ends at the hermitages - they have three - begins with a sharp downhill slope. This meant my backpack full of books, suitcase full of clothes, grocery bags and all other supplies had to be carried. Did I mention it was 9 degrees? With a 20 mph wind? That's as warm as it would get throughout my time, by the way. The windchill Friday afternoon was more than 30... below. 
The hermitages at St. Joseph's are simple, yet complete. Each has one room with a bed, a bathroom, a reclining chair, a full kitchen, a writing desk and a view of the woods and valley beyond. I was assigned the 'Sophia' hermitage. For real. (You may know my eldest daughter was also named for holy wisdom.) A coincidence?
It took me almost an hour to carefully slide my belongings along the skating rink/road to 'Sophia'. It took another hour to unpack and thaw out my fingers and toes. Once the books had been placed neatly in the window sill, my clothes had been tucked away in drawers, my food organized in the mini-fridge and shaving kit hung from the inside of the bathroom door, I sat down in the reclining chair which received me like a very old friend.
All my preparations had been made. My family were already in the Bahamas beginning their adventure. I had no 'work' to do at First for three months. There was NOTHING left for me to plan, figure out or organize. The quiet was deafening. The absence of a to-do list was bewildering. But almost immediately, I could feel my soul exhale. And then I fell asleep.
Spiritual directors will tell you that it is not uncommon for those on retreat to sleep a lot. Most of us don't sleep enough and so our bodies oftentimes take advantage of retreats like these to catch up. This first nap of mine lasted almost two hours. I then had supper, read for a bit and went to bed around 10:00. I woke up the next day at noon. Seriously. There are only two other times in my life when I remember physically shutting down like that: 1) in high school after a National Youth Gathering in New Orleans when I think I averaged 3 hours of sleep per night for a week. As our 6 person youth group made our way home in a Dad's RV, I fell asleep in Baton Rouge and didn't wake up until the next day as we rolled past Stevens Point. 2) after the greatest three months of my life studying abroad in England, traveling throughout Europe and meeting Carla (it was like a 100 day adrenaline rush) I came home to Medford instead of taking a J-term class at Augsburg and mostly slept for two weeks. The first three days of my retreat at St. Joseph's felt a lot like that. My body heard the quiet as my mind received the release from responsibilities and my soul opened to the presence of God through deep sleep.In my waking hours, I was becoming reacquainted with feelings, dreams and disappointments from the whole of my life. I was remembering people and events that had slipped away. It was not easy to read, reflect, journal, pray, wonder and confront MYSELF. I do these things for and with other people, a whole congregation of people, actually, every day. But I had not flexed my spiritual muscles and focused these practices on me much for the last fifteen years. It was about time.
My primary resources for this sabbath work were all the photographs I've uploaded to Shutterfly for 16 years plus two books: 1) Using the Enneagram in Prayer by Suzanne Zuercher and 2) Learning to Walk in the Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor. I could spend thousands of words recounting the many insights, discoveries and questions these two books brought out of me. But I'd rather simply say this: by being on retreat I had the time and space to slowly digest my thoughts, pray through questions and hear God's response through the bits of wisdom I've been taught my whole life, through Scripture stories that seemed to address me personally and through the spiritual director to whom God gave helpful words. My train of thought was never interrupted by a phone call, kids calling, "Dad, Dad, Dad..." or a screen of any kind. And so I am now able to name my greatest desire. I have thoughtfully concluded what I am most thankful for in this life. I am more aware than ever of how my preferences and personality build obstacles between myself and God. That awareness has led to a list of strategies and tactics that I know are able to overcome those obstacles.
But most of all, my time on retreat reminded me that prayer is not something to be 'done'. In my experience prayer is being in the presence of the holy which may or may not happen when I want it to. It may or may not happen on a Sunday morning, before a meal, before bed, or upon waking up. During my retreat I remembered that prayer happens unexpectedly and to be prayerful, I simply need to put myself in an abundance of situations where I may hear God more often. Or as Jesus says, "Stay alert!" The noise of my life, and my unwillingness to push back against my busyness had all but crushed my prayer life. On retreat, I remembered how to pray. And so I commend retreating to you as it is a very faithful use of time. 'Leaving' your loved ones for 3-7 days may seem selfish or at least some level of crazy to our hyper-productive world which does not value quiet, being or prayerfulness. But I believe these 5 cold days in January may become the cornerstone for an entirely new prayer life for me which will transform every other part of my journey. It was not 'fun' or easy. I was happy to return home. But it was as faithful a use of time as I can imagine.
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