The focus of this retreat was on the role of solitude and silence in the life of a Christian leader. As part of that, we were given five hours on Monday afternoon to be alone with God. I had a somewhat funny experience...
The retreat took place at two retreat houses, located about a 15-minute walk from each other. Our meetings were at one of the houses, and my room was in the other. At the beginning of our time alone, I walked around for a while looking for a good place to spend the afternoon, and after not finding what I was looking for at the building where we had been meeting, I decided to walk back to my room and enjoy the quiet there.
To walk from one place to the other involved following a short trail through some woods, then coming to a road that circled a lake. Once at the road, turning the correct direction would have you at the retreat house in about 10 minutes. Turning the other direction would get you there too, but only after circling the entire lake- about a three mile walk.
I turned the wrong way.
Normally I would have had my GPS in hand and not made such a mistake, but they encouraged us to unplug from technology during the retreat, so I didn't have it with me. I did have a map, but decided not to look at it; I knew I would end up back at my room eventually, and if I took the long way it would give me some needed exercise.
But after I realized I actually was going the long way, I got frustrated. I had been looking forward to a restful, relaxing time of quiet with God. Now, I could certainly still pray, but I had a three mile walk ahead of me that I never really chose. Although the theory of some exercise sounded good, its reality wasn't quite as appealing.
About halfway through the walk (45 minutes later), I decided to quit pouting and make the best of it. The lake was beautiful, it was a great place to walk, and I could still enjoy some solitude on the rest of the walk. It got better from then on, but I didn't do all that good a job of praying and paying attention to God's presence. I got easily distracted by the scenery, walking past other people, and just getting lost in my own thoughts.
Finally I made it back to the retreat house. I was tired and ready to get to my room. As I walked through the parking lot up to our building, I realized something about the experience that gave me gratitude and joy:
Many evenings I'll take Ethan on long walks around our neighborhood. Most times that we go, we walk somewhere around two miles, and I think we both really enjoy it. I need the exercise, and it feels good to do something active after sitting behind my desk most of the day. Ethan may have been fussy in the house, but once we go on the walk, he sits back and takes everything in. I really enjoy watching him while I push his stroller. I like seeing his reactions to other kids playing in the neighborhood or animals that may be outside. He also always spends a good portion of the walk leaning his head over the side of the stroller and watching the pavement go by underneath.
On the occasions that Kara doesn't go with us on the walk, I get a kick out of watching Ethan when we finish and come back to the house. I'll push the stroller into our driveway, then walk around in front of him to open our garage door, and he gets a surprised look on his face, as if to say, "Oh! You were here too!" Obviously, rather than offending me and in any way lessening my enjoyment of our time spent together, I get a good laugh. This little boy really does eat me up and has made my heart very full.
As I got back to the retreat house, I was very grateful for the similarity of my long accidental walk around the lake and my walks with Ethan. I was thankful that my reactions to heading a different way than I had intended, walking past other people, or just watching the trees and scenery go by- and more often than not- even being unaware of God's presence- apparently aren't much of a bother to God.
I'm thankful that fathers and sons can go on walks together, and that relationships can develop on those walks even when the sons are completely oblivious to what's happening.
I look forward to many more walks with Ethan, and more long walks around that lake on future retreats. Eventually as Ethan grows he will know all throughout the walk that I am there with him. Hopefully as I keep taking these walks, I will grow in just the same way.
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2 comments:
Thanks for all of that, Daniel. I think that life is like that, too. Most of the time, we are wanting to hurry on to whatever is next in life without just enjoying the journey.
Great post Daniel. Thanks for sharing.
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