Seeing Double

As with most of Jesus’ ministry, he was surrounded by people who were a study into understanding and seeing ourselves as we really are. What I have been

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recently “taken” with has been the juxtaposition of the men around Jesus — Judas and Peter, the two criminals on the cross, and Thomas and Peter.

Let’s start with Judas and Peter. This is an interesting pair because how much of a mirror image they are of each of us… of me. Really, one of the few things that separated Peter and Judas was the resurrection. Peter experienced it in it’s fullest sense by being restored by a risen Christ who was the only one who could have restored him. Because of his grief and bitterness over his own sin didn’t motivate him to take things into his own hands (like Judas), but to experience the fullness of that grief, and still obey waiting (against all hope) that Jesus would do what He said He would do … rise again and hope against all hope, restore him. Peter was an interesting person in light of these facts. He was impetuous, impulsive, brash, and bold. He thought it, and said it with little or no editing. He was the one that of all mankind had the opportunity to walk on water because of these very qualities. He was also the one that quavered in his faith when his vision and focus on Jesus was broken by the storm that surrounded him(that sounds familiar doesn’t it?). Peter was so thoroughly flawed that most had consigned him to the obscure job of a fisherman. Yet,… yet… it was Peter who held off his own condemnation and punishment, and waited. Why? Do you ever wonder why Peter didn’t do what Judas did? The picture of him betraying Jesus with his words is a heart-wrenching one. He realized how he had denied Jesus, betrayed Him who he said was his best friend and yet, trusted Jesus enough to forestall his own punishment to have the faith to be restored.

Judas, on the other hand, did what so many of us do… he was his own judge, jury, and executioner. His betrayal was revealed for what it was in spite of whatever ideology he was operating from in order to get Jesus to do what he so long desired him to do — restore God’s kingdom on earth, or if not that ideology just being motivated by pure greed to get a little extra for himself by handing over Jesus to the religious/political elites of the day. What delusion was he operating from in order to justify such a grand plan for a few pieces of silver? No matter… in the end the full brunt of his delusion is unveiled for his own eyes to see, and he confronts his own utter depravity to condemn an innocent man to death. In my own “little” way, I find myself connecting with both men. In my betrayal, I can take matters into my own hands, and exact the punishment that I have decided I deserve. In other words, without trust, all that is left is the exacting law of my own performance-driven perfectionism and control, and it’s clear that someone has to be punished for such offenses. On that point, God would agree, but over the “whom” would be His sticking point. After all, that is what today is about. The only punishment for not fulfilling the “law” is death. That’s clear from all the rituals of sacrifice which were embedded in the Hebrew mind for millennia. But, what of the “law” of my mind? It is most certainly death, but an emotional one which also separates from the Giver of this Gift of forgiveness, grace, mercy, and a truth that sets us free.

Thankfully, there are other times, for whatever the reason, I actually wait in trust that I can be restored by Jesus perhaps provided me in the love and support of the community around me, or perhaps even more profoundly through cameo appearances of the flawed people in the Bible like Peter and Judas. In the waiting, in such a ruthless act of trust I do find restoration, I do find the strength I didn’t think I had to resist my tendency to exact a punishment on myself that has already been paid in full, or my tendency to medicate my restlessness, or push my daily pain under a veneer of false bravado. But, in order to trust, I have to throw off my own designs to punish myself. There is really one grand thing that separated Peter and Judas. Judas exacted his own punishment, and never saw Easter; never looked into his Savior’s eyes to see love and grace, forgiveness and redemption. Judas’ grief over his betrayal drove him to make the world turn out the way it was “supposed to be.” If you’ve done wrong; if you’ve committed the ultimate sin, someone must die, and that’ll be me. When I choose that route even in an emotional sense in not forgiving myself, I factor out the grace and forgiveness offered me through the pain of trust. After all, that is the “crux” of the issue, right? The cross marks the center point of history, the defining moment in all our lives — whether we believe the claims of Jesus or not. “X” (a cross on it’s side) marks the spot where we are driven to choose — trust or control.

You can see much the same tension between the two “criminals” on either side of Jesus in the crucifixion scene. One is cursing to his last dying breath… breathing out all manner of hatred, and saying what the Message Bible renders… “What kind of God are you???” Even in his helplessness to do anything for himself, and eventually prevent his own death, this criminal attempts to maintain the veneer of control by blaming Jesus for not being “God” enough for him. Of course, that’s what blaming does… The other criminal, on the other hand, recognizes the gravity of the situation he’s in and all he can do is plead with Jesus to just “remember me.” A simple request from a man whose life has been reduced to hours. The ultimate request of trust. There’s little left of his life, and he knows it, and all he asks is for Jesus to remember him.

One last pair I want to look at. Peter (again?) and Thomas. We have a “new” Peter the days after Jesus’ resurrection. Something has changed in him, but there are others who are still where Peter was before, like Thomas. You’ve got to feel sorry for Thomas.

Just imagine if  you were to strike up a conversation with Tom, and say, “So, what part did you play in the band of disciples of Jesus?”

He looks at you a little sheepishly, and says, “Well, actually, what I’m most known for is doubting whether Jesus was really risen or not. Thankfully, my story didn’t end there, I finally came around after I saw everything.”

Now, there’s a real resume building item! Yet, how often I relate to Thomas. His sense of incredulity just simply outstripped all that he had seen as a disciple of Jesus. With Jerry McGwire he was saying, “Show me the money!!!!”

“Show me the evidence, and then I’ll believe.”

I can relate to that! There are way too many times that I function by the adage, “trust is only as good as the evidence that follows it!”

Yet, can’t you wonder what Peter was thinking when he saw this little drama play out before him?

“Yep, been there… Thomas! I would have been to the grave first if that little whippersnapper John hadn’t outrun me. I saw the empty grave, and Jesus appeared to me as well. I just can’t deny again… I just can’t. We have to walk our own journey, Thomas, you’ll see… I mean, you will really see!”

Okay, so I took a little artistic license with what we’re told, but all too often we make these guys out to be something other than they were… real men, with real insecurities, but a stubborn, persistent desire to follow this confusing and comforting Rabbi who not only died, but is alive again.

On this Easter, I find myself beset and overwhelmed by assaults on members of my family more than myself. I have certainly known the assaults to be pointed at myself and my own sense of power, but when these are directed toward my family members, the game changes. Do I really trust? Is it something I simply claim and act upon, or is it something that I live into? I think the latter more than the former. Why? Because, living into trust means that I walk with trusting dependence (which I can’t help but think such dependence makes God smile) rather than asking for a full tank of trust to make the journey. Each moment of today will be a “living into trust” with God and my loved ones. Will it turn out like I hope? I don’t know. If it doesn’t it will be the next defining moment in my journey of faith. Will I take control, or will I trust? Peter or Judas? Criminal #1, or criminal #2? Peter or Thomas? Probably both…

CCU Silent Retreat 2011 – Day Three

Retreatant #1

Sunday April 10th 2011

This weekend was full of reflection for me but not about some of the things I was seeking clarity on. I came into this weekend after a bit of a crisis in my life after realizing and being encouraged by those around me to move out of my home where I currently live with my mother and younger sister. So I knew coming into this weekend that when I got back to CCU I would be going home to pack up my things and stay somewhere else for a while. I expected the idea of leaving my home and my family would preoccupy me all weekend but surprisingly some other things came up instead. I realize now that God was intervening in a miraculous way and allowing me to focus on some other things in my life rather than stress about moving out when I got back. I think He realized that I needed to spend some time reflecting, praying, and thinking and not agonizing over my living situation while I was here. Well I couldn’t be more thankful. I thought I was going to spend this weekend focusing on the latest developments in my life and working on my thoughts about my relationship with my mom, which is at this point quite volatile at times. I brought a book recommended by my therapist about daughters of narcisstic mothers, as my therapist has determined that my mother has some pretty key narcissistic traits after meeting with her a few times. I ordered the book two weeks ago and had not even taken it out of the package for fear that my mom would see it sitting on my desk at home. So in preparing for this weekend I took it out of the package and put it in my bag with some other books. To be honest, I didn’t even pick the book up this weekend. I realized that I didn’t want to be angry, nor did I want my mom to be in control of my weekend and how I was feeling. Instead I spent time reading, something I love doing and never get the time to do outside of reading for classes. I read a novel that really stirred up some emotions in me about what I want to do with my life and how I feel about certain issues. Last year I came in to the retreat hoping to find clarity and peace about my relationship with my dad, seeing as my parents were recently divorced at the time of the last retreat. That never really happened and I focused my time last year on me and my own healing process. This year, I actually got some of what I was looking for last year about my relationship with my dad. We are doing a lot better and recently spent a few days together over spring break, the most time we had spent together in probably 2+ years. It was a healing experience and I didn’t want to come back to the real world where I no longer live with my dad, much less see him on a daily basis. But it made me realize how much more I want to spend time with him and continue working on our relationship. I spent a lot of time this weekend talking to God about that and asking questions about where to go from here or what the next step is in working on my relationship with my dad. He is in a relationship with a woman I was close with and they had an affair which in my personal opinion ended my parents’ marriage. Needless to say, she and I do not get along and we have yet to have a conversation since I found out about the affair almost 2 years ago. So my questions have been about her and about the anger I have towards her. Do I have to allow her to be a part of my life if I want my dad in my life? Do I have to forgive my dad to love him and have an authentic relationship with him? Can I continue to have a relationship with him that is separate from his relationship with his girlfriend if they continue living together, get married, and continue to come as a couple to family events? What happens if and when they get married? Will that affect my relationship with my dad in a way that I will take steps backwards? Is it worth it to confront this woman and have a conversation with her about how I feel? I asked God a lot of these questions and while I didn’t get a lot of the answers I was looking for, I realized that I need to be placing more and more trust in God and stop fretting over what’s to come. I had a long period of time where I couldn’t hear God anymore, and couldn’t feel His spirit when I tried to talk to Him, worship Him, and even pray to Him. For the first time in a long time that has faded and I now feel and see more and more His spirit within me and around me, and that is a welcome feeling to have at last. It’s not that I ever lost faith in God but rather that I began to question how He could let my family fall apart the way it did and how He could allow my father to make such a horrible decision that would ruin a marriage and tear apart relationships within our family. I was angry at God for the pain I felt and the misery I was in when I came to the realization (after finding out about the affair) that my parents’ marriage was over and that my family would never be the same; my life would never be the same again. It’s been over a year since the divorce was finalized and I still have days where it hits me like a ton of bricks that my parents’ aren’t together and that my dad is never coming home. I think with me moving out for a while it will be helpful to not have those reminders when I realize his car still isn’t in the garage, his clothes still aren’t in the closet in the master bedroom, and his sports memorabilia will never again be so wonderfully displayed in his office, or the museum as I used to call it. We will never again sit down as a family of four after a long day and share a meal together. We will never again be eager to wake up my parents on Christmas morning and go jump on their bed to wake them up. I can no longer wander in to my dad’s office at home to have a long talk with him as I did before, because now when I walk in there all that is left is an empty desk and a room filled with random things trying to make it appear that it is not empty, or maybe trying to appear that it has always looked this way. We will never again go on family walks or hikes with our dogs, and my older dog Ripken will never again sit next to my dad’s chair the way he used to after dinner and they would fall asleep together watching ESPN. My dad will no longer bring home flowers for my mother, I will never again see them kissing in the kitchen or holding hands on our family walks. I think about all of the things I will never see again and as much as it hurts, I have come to realize that eventually it may not hurt as much anymore and eventually those things will go unnoticed, a memory lost in time that will no longer be a sad, daily reminder of what we have lost.

I think about what I still need to work on and where I need to go from here. I realize now more than ever I need to put more and more faith and reliance in God, and less in my self to get everything done, hold it all together, and figure out all the answers. I have to let myself off the hook more often, and stop beating myself up over what could have been, or how I could have made things different. The divorce was not about me, I couldn’t have fixed their relationship if I had tried. My dad’s relationship with his girlfriend is not more important than his relationship with me and he did not choose her over me, even though it is easy to think that and be angry at the both of them. None of it is my fault, and I need to keep reminding myself of that. Just because I went off to college does not mean that that was the reason my family fell apart. Me working with my dad did not cause nor prevent his affair, nor was it my job to help him with his stress levels, his business, or his relationships at work. I cannot fix my relationship with my mom overnight, nor can I ignore the fact that eventually I will have to pick up that book and begin the healing process in admitting that I have been hurt and shaped in a particular way based on how I was raised by someone with a tendency towards narcissism. But label or no label, diagnosis or no diagnosis, she is still my mother and I have been praying to God today that my moving out and confronting the problem with my therapist and in reading the book will in no way cause permanent damage to our relationship. But I have to remind myself that I can only control myself and my emotions, feelings, and reactions. My mother is not someone I can control. I cannot fix her problems, I cannot confront her with my ideas about how she has problems she needs to address, face, and own up to so that she can live a better life. That is not my decision to make and I need to accept that and move on. Dr. Mitsch recommended that I add a book to my stack of books to read called “Forgiving Your Parents, Forgiving Yourself”. I sort of laughed and later that night as I was out walking under the stars I was questioning the idea of forgiving myself. “What did I ever do?” I wondered. “Why do I need to forgive myself, and what for!?”. It was then that I realized how much pain I have been in and that I needed to forgive myself for so many things I have blamed myself for in the process of the divorce and in the year following it, the relationships that have faltered, and the ones I have been working on mending. I allowed myself to have so much power and thought I was responsible for so many things that I look at now and just want to laugh because I realize that I had absolutely ZERO control over those things. So yes, I do need to forgive myself and allow time for more healing, no matter what the world around me says about just ‘getting over it already’. I have no timeline for moving on from the divorce, accepting it, forgiving people, and whatever else may go along with that. I am putting it in God’s hands and asking Him to provide the timeline, even though I probably won’t get to see it, but I’m okay with that. I am ready to work on forgiving myself, and maybe through that process I will be able to choose to work on forgiving the other people in my life who have hurt me more than I ever thought possible. I know now that there is no rushing any of these processes, like grieving, forgiveness, and so on. I am at peace with the fact that God will come through in more ways than one and show me how I can live my life without being held back by the chains of my parents’ divorce, my father’s affair, and my mother’s issues. I am free to live my life without all of those problems getting in the way now. I feel like a butterfly in a sense, who had just been transformed from a caterpillar and is breaking out of her cocoon. I am ready to spread my wings and let God lead me in my journeys as I fly freely and allow myself to see the beautiful Creation that surrounds me. Just in case you were wondering, I am in fact a pink butterfly (it is my favorite color ?), probably with polka dots who is finally breaking free, and learning to fly without being held back by the chains and baggage of my past.

CCU Silent Retreat 2011 – Day Two

Retreatant #2
April 9, 2011

Papa,
Today I was just sitting and couldn’t help but marvel at Your majesty. Creation all around sings Your name in such an unfamiliar way. Each roll of the hillside, or fold on the mountains edge, in harmony, exclaiming praise. As I became lost in the jagged folds in a mountain in the distance, I couldn’t help but to take in just how closely You pay attention to details. Every curve, crack, fold, and page on that mountain, whispering of the workings of Your intricate hands. You created this mountain so intricately and You created me ever so intricately as well. You are the Creator of all things, the Creator of me. Who better to come to with the intricate splits of my heart? Papa, You know every part of me, You know every part of my heart, You know every junction and intersection where pain and anger collided head on, every crossing where bitterness and resentment intertwined, every shattered corner, where tears had a nearly silent rock-meets-glass sort of interaction. And where splits of all these roads meet, twisted into one, they then plunge into the depths and make up the walls of a prison that I’d so long been held captive to, You know these parts of me too. You know these intricacies of my heart, and like the whole mountain radiates Your glorious work, only You can bring these splits of my heart to proclaim Your glory.

In reading, I couldn’t help but resonate with the main character who was voicing his “if only’s”, and the “if only’s” of my past came creeping in.

If only I hadn’t agreed to meet him…
If only I decided to not attend that party…
If only I hadn’t stopped fighting…
If only I fought a little bit more…

If only, if only, if only. I could drown in a sea of my if only’s because of how many there are. And yet these if only’s seem to form the questions that I have found myself asking for years. Questions of why on so many different levels. It isn’t until no that I realize that these questions and if only’s have only caused these junctions in my heart to splinter deeper and have begun to suffocate the parts that hadn’t yet been taken over.

All of what I thought were my defenses are actually the implementers of my drowning in this sea of suffering. My main buoy all these years? Bitterness. The only thing left for me to hold onto that was “keeping me afloat”. I have realized that this “lifeline” of mine is actually pulling me below the surface, doing its best to pull me out of reach of my true Buoy. In a step of faith and tears, I let go of the “one thing that has been keeping me afloat”, crying out, Papa, I have nothing left to hold me up, only to be greeted with a subtle, still,

Hold onto Me.

So here I am, all my comfortable defenses that I’ve held for so long, are no longer in my grasp, and I’m holding onto the One who created me intricately, and is mending me in ways known only to Him.

April 9, 2011 – late afternoon

“We’re not justifying it. We are redeeming it”.
Papa, one of my deepest thoughts about what I’ve been through is that, in the end, what justifies what happened to me? And deeply embedded in these thoughts is that seed that says that nothing will ever justify what happened. There isn’t any final outcome I can think of that would justify this. And that is very unsettling in my finite human mind. I need justification. As if justification would make it all better. I seek out justification, so that I may explain things away, or so that I may have an excuse for something. I am constantly seeking to justify words or actions. Yet as I’ve been seeking to justify what has happened to me, I seemed to have lost sight of Your hand in this, and what You’re doing in it, Papa. All I’ve been doing is searching for answers and in the midst of this chaotic searching; I let go if the One I should be searching for.

All I’ve been wanting is something that somehow justifies what happened, and in the midst of that, I lost the desire for You, Papa. My desire became so answer focused and I began drowning in my sea of unanswered questions. I lost any sight of how You might work in this, to the point of no hope. How much You love me, slipped out of the concepts of my mind and became buried underneath all the “why’s” and “how come’s”. And yet, what I’ve been seeking all this time is not at all what You have been seeking. I’ve been seeking to justify it; You are redeeming it.

You’re not here to justify what happened to me. You’re here to redeem it.

Retreatant #1
April 9th 2011:

God, I don’t even know what to think right now. Not that there’s a thought I should think and one I should not, but whatever could be going on in my head remains a silent nuisance. I love the silence, I really do, so why does it not come when I beckon it politely?
Every time Many times when I choose to go out of my way and attempt something great for you, something that my heart yearns for, you choose not to “come through” (to my human, infallible knowledge). I may meet with you on my bustling college campus, yet when I set a weekend apart for you and only you – nothing. I don’t need human knowledge right now; I don’t need to attempt to find my own solutions or come up with hypothetical hypotheses. I need pure divine pneuma breathed into my own spirit. I realize you can give us answers through our own logic, and this is the point when I contradict everything I say and attempt to find out what you’re up to looking at every possible angle from the outside perspective, so I’m just going to stop that HERE. You know my heart, you know that I love you; I’m going to unleash my already knowingly questionable thoughts and ask you to take them as they are meant.

I cannot comprehend why you would answer prayers as minimal as shooting stars, but when I turn to bigger things you turn a deaf ear. When I am at the point of physical empathic pains for my friends, pains that only you could have led me to feel, my prayers jump right back into my ears with the mocking drones of uselessness. I have seen the impact of prayer; I know what it does to the spiritual atmosphere of a place. The moment our lips part and the first syllables of words are breathed, angels and demons are forced into motion. Battles are being waged in the heavenly realms and savagery wages on in my heart down below. So why, with all of this raw, primal power that you exude, would you choose to tend to the least of my worries? Why if I care about something, do you suddenly choose not to? I know this is not being fair to you and that it is incompatible with your character, but still; I’ve taken enough psych classes by now to know that what we feel (Dr. Mitsch – your little t truth) is just as important as what is really taking place.

It makes me wonder if I could wring my heart to the point of apathy, would you answer? If I carelessly threw together a stream of meaningless words and then said, Oh God, let your will be done, would your fingers snap and create magic? I apologize if this comes off as sarcastic and degrading; I honestly can’t figure out what it is you would have of me. I know that a broken and contrite heart is your perfect sacrifice, more fragrant and beautiful to you than the words I attempt to express; why then is my fragmented heart thrown to the pigs? When I choose to be vulnerable and to pray for someone to just witness a taste of you, my broken heart is then crushed and the ashes are smeared on my forehead as a constant reminder of the words you chose to flick off your fingertips. Why dirty yourself with such filthy creatures. We practically moan as we drag our sorry heap of self up your steps to the footstool of your feet, and your foot pushes the hand aside that grasps for a glimpse of the glory. I am Smegal and I am decaying on the royal steps. Does my stench not rise before your throne as my prayers so earnestly do?

This is why I hate prayers like these: I feel as if everything I say just feeds off the last comment, and it’s not truly what I’m feeling, but my own head caught up in emotion. I desperately cling to the gifts that you so lavishly laid at my feet and backed away with head bowed…bowed to me! Your eyes were rimmed with tears as you wondered how I couldn’t see the hand that caressed me into sleep. How did I not see you as you sat by my side, trance unbroken, and sang the sweetest words to ward away the nightmares? Why do I so easily forget the miracles you so graciously showed me last year; they flow together so well I can’t see where it all began and yet how it all abruptly ended. What mystery.

You have been there before I even started to question. I asked you to take my heart and hide it within the folds of your cloak, knowing I could not trust it to myself, and there it has stayed. By your grace you have led me down a path that is so blessed beyond measure, I cannot articulate the spoils I have received. Everything I have ever needed has been provided, and an extra giggle each day. You have kept me from the torrents that continually pull at my feet, and though I fear the undertow is too much, the pact you made drags you in and leaves me standing on a dry, sandy beach.

Why is it that I so easily forget? I hate this about me! I hate that I forget what you’ve done and I continually beg for another miracle, another glimpse, another touch, another moment. Have I not had enough? Why do I continue to question? Why do you put up with me? You’ve given me more than enough reason to be satisfied for a lifetime, and yet once again I find myself dragging my feet to our quiet place and whining about why I can’t have my way.

I may have slightly expounded, for I believe whining is beneath me and lower than any comment that should be heard by your ears. I long to get my point across though, and I’m floundering in my attempt to drench this paper with theoretical ink.

Like I said, this doesn’t really feel like me. Perhaps it’s coming from somewhere, but I’ve never drawn out a Smegal comparison, so I question how much of this is just my psyche in need of a little imagination. No coincidences, just boredom. Who knows, maybe I’m just writing. Maybe I’m just in need of something to throw in your face in hopes that I’ll come out the victor (in the sense of getting what I want, not beating you to the punch – I’m surely not picking any fights here).

Well, for what it’s worth, I felt like I needed to write something. Since my thoughts won’t leave my head, I might as well splash some on faux paper. Hmm…sure used a lot of commas; what a waste of this imaginary ink. Condensed precision, I think that’s what I’ll work on (and more contractions!)

*Come burn your face into our hearts*

Come as close as you want
And burn this heart

Though your fire may hurt
I’de be far worse
Without you.

Even when times are hard
We say yes
We submit ourselves.
We say yes to how you want to move in us.

He’s dazzling
He’s excellent
He’s chief among ten thousand
He’s fairer than the sons of man

Behold your God!

CCU Silent Retreat 2011 – Day One

“So what do I do?” one of my retreat students asked me.

“Whatever you want to do,” I replied.

The student had the look of a person just being given the recommendation to jump off a cliff. There was a mixture of horror and confusion.
“I’m not sure what I want to do. I mean, everything that I have ever been doing over the last semester or so has always been assigned to me. I mean, I just never have entertained the possibility that I might even get to choose something to do.”

“I can understand that. We often don’t think about or even give ourselves the opportunity to explore the possibility of what we actually want to do. It seems like such a waste, right? After all, even if I knew what I “wanted” to do doesn’t necessarily mean that I will get to do it.”
“Exactly! Why bother “dreaming” about what I want to do when I won’t be able to do it anyway?” A deep sigh issued forth expressing the frustration and mild despair the thought brought.

Something like that conversation was the beginning of two different retreats I have had the honor to be a part of with students from CCU. This small group of courageous students walked and listened, and discussed God’s voice by creating a space to listen in the silence of Sacred Heart Retreat House. I will let them tell you in their own words what it was like. It was another amazing time to watch God touch lives in ways I rarely get the opportunity to see let alone experience it myself. Just remember that silence is creating space to hear God in the internal realm of our soul like solitude is creating a physical space to experience God. I trust and am sure you will be touched by their brutally honest words and reflections they will share with you through this medium. Each will not be identified. They will simply be identified as retreatant #1, 2, 3, or 4. Read with joy at what God can do with a soul whose “eyes” are turned toward Him.

Retreatant #2
April 8, 2011

I’d be the first one to say that I had so many expectations coming into this weekend, regardless of whether or not I would’ve admitted it then. I had so many un-surfaced expectations that sort of melted their way into my entire morning, though not in a way that I so acknowledged them in that way. Hindsight, as in just the brief period that was lunch and shortly thereafter, I can tell you that I pushed and pushed for stillness with God this morning. I pushed so that I could hear His voice. I came into this weekend with numerous things on my list: I needed clarity on this, I needed healing from this, I needed to work through this, I need to work on changing this, etc. I had my weekend planned to a T of what “God was going to teach me” as I spent the weekend in silence. However, in hiking this morning, I found myself in the midst of cluttered, aimless thoughts and I found myself actually coaching myself to “be still”. By lunchtime though I found that instead of any answers or solutions, I seemed to have more questions, many of them pointing back at me. Which really frustrated and, in some ways, angered me. My thoughts ran something like this: I came on this retreat so that God could teach me something profound so that I can gallivant back to real life with newfound healing, wisdom, and insightfulness. Didn’t I? Many people knew that I was going on this retreat, so I need to come back with some incredible knowledge learned, right? With these thoughts running through my head, I couldn’t make this morning seem completely useless so I picked out some ‘good’ things and left my not-yet-known pushiness out of my last journal entry. As I returned to my room to prepare for my afternoon outside, I read something profound that hit me like a ton of bricks…

“I would like to beg you…as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart, and do, try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a foreign language. Don’t search for answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far into the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer”.

After reading this, I just sat on my bed and began to cry. Why is it that I’m pressing so hard for answers? It’s as if as long as I’m pressing and searching for answers, then I’m in control of what I have to confront. And it’s as if I believe that “when” I find the answer, then that will be that and I won’t have any future doubts about that one thing, or I will change and be that different person whom the “answer” defines. In a sense, I guess it’s my own twisted way of trying to manipulate God so that I only hear what I want to hear. And when I think about that I can’t help but realize how wrong it is, but it seems to be the best fit description for what I have been doing.

I headed outside to the Agony in the Garden sculpture, sat down, and read a few passages of Scripture that helped me to reflect upon Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane. Upon finishing my reading, I immediately began thinking about what profound thought I could come up with, when a still small voice quieted those thoughts with a simple, “just be still”. And that’s exactly what I did. Physically and mentally, I just remained still. And it was in this stillness that I learned something so simple, and yet so profound that I could have never “thought it up on my own”.

Child, stop running yourself rampant, searching and seeking for answers. Instead, be still, and seek Me.

It was in this moment that, for the first time, I caught a small glimpse of the beauty of what it means to be still before the Lord.