Two Nights in a Monastery

Last month, I spent two nights at a Benedictine monastery.  Someone reacted with: "Why would you do that to yourself?"  Apparently, not everyone thinks hanging out at a monastery sounds like a good time.  I took a much needed spiritual retreat, alone, and it was wonderful.  WONDERFUL.  To run down farmland hills and hike through the woods to a stone chapel and drink coffee in view of the mountains is all medicine to my soul.  But the best part was when my racing gerbil-wheel thoughts finally ebbed away, and I could be alone with God, contemplate how good and marvelous and big he is, and know his peace.  I was reminded that life is not about me, that it is God's epic story we are living.

In this year that God has given me for rest, I have done a mediocre job of being restful.  So after months of declaring that I need a retreat, I finally followed through.  I was aching for time alone for prayer and depth and quiet, and I needed to physically pull myself out of my environment, put my phone on airplane mode, and be alone.

At the door of the stone chapel in the woods.

Two things I learned:

1.  In Jesus, all things hold together.  I sat on the hill under perfect blue skies looking out to the mountains in the afternoon.  By the time the sun set, the sky was almost covered, brushed across with purple-gray clouds.  The cloudless sunny day had begun to look stormy in a very short time.  But everything in my tiny spot on earth was created by and held together by God himself.  Multiply that by every tiny spot on the globe.  He knows every sparrow that falls to the ground.  He knows how many hairs are on my head.  God is much much bigger than I usually allow myself to think.  How can I worry?  Why do I fear?  When my life changes from blue skies to stormy, do I not know God is in just as much control?  And (what I need to ask myself daily) why do I think for a moment that this life is about me?  I'm so tiny!

2.  "They lack nothing."  I shared this with a few people last month, but while praying for the group of Catholic monks who live at the monastery, that sentence burned in my heart.  I looked at their lives that so obviously lacked many things we think we need.  They each take a vow of poverty, chastity, and obedience.  They live with few possessions.  They will never marry or enjoy sexual intimacy.  They do not come and go and choose as they please.  Yet, they have declared that Jesus is sufficient.  Indeed, He is, and they lack nothing.  The most well-known Psalm begins, "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want."  Even some translations say, "I lack nothing."

Although I know in my head that God is enough, and can quote scripture that says so, sometimes I do not feel that way.  Sometimes I act as though he is not sufficient.  And for the single girl, to see this group of men called to lifelong singleness, living and loving in a community of faith, and declaring with their lives: God is sufficient, well, it made my heart soar because I knew with my whole being that it was true.  Because in Christ, I lack nothing.  To live for him is the greatest joy and fulfillment possible, and I was grateful to be refreshed in the mission and adventure that is this life with Him.

If you read this, and you are thinking that you need a retreat, do it!  I believe God is calling many of us, beckoning, "Spend time with me."  Some of you have babies and two nights away is not possible.  Carve out an hour.  I encourage you to unplug.  It is amazing how much our technology contributes to our racing thoughts.

Sometimes I complain that I talk and talk and talk and God isn't answering.  Maybe I need to be quiet, be still, and listen more.  I busy myself when I suffer from a fear of missing out, but after my stay at the monastery, I wonder if maybe I'm missing out on much much more.