
WILDERNESS TIME
This past Sunday I mentioned that we have a couple new Lifechange classes coming up. One is "Exploring Membership" (a catchy title that requires no explanation whatsoever) and "Wilderness Time With Jesus," which probably requires quite a bit of explanation! So I thought this week would be a good opportunity to offer an encouraging word about finding a way to experience Christ in the "wilderness" of our own lives.
You may have heard the old saying "I need some time to let my soul catch up to my body." Nobody really knows where it originated, but it's been attributed to everything from African safari guides to sherpas leading expeditions up Mt. Everest. Either way, I know I'm not alone when I say that many of us feel like we've just escaped the swirling winds of the holiday season only to be thrust right back into the more predictable but no less harried busy-ness of "ordinary" life. I just had a brief conversation last Sunday morning with someone who was grappling with this very challenge–family, kids, school, ministry, jobs. It just seems to never end. Not only that, it feels like it's beyond our control.
You might even call it wild.
We have beautiful woods behind our house. It's probably the one feature that sold us on buying the place 20 years ago. Most of the woods aren't our own property, but when you gaze into the trees you don't see boundaries and property markers, you just see trees. The same thing is true of our own lives–the boundaries, guidelines, and principles we set up to give structure to our lives are invisible but they're there nonetheless–or they should be. In a minute, I'll share some of my own with you.
At this time of year, we tend to give more thought to those invisible boundaries and try to make some effort at establishing new ones or realigning old ones. I wonder if that's you today.
One of the greatest challenges we face is waking up every day to a life that's already going– commitments have been made, appointments scheduled, unanticipated needs clamor for our attention. All this, and our feet haven't even hit the floor!
Even if we hunger and thirst for a quiet interlude or space for a little stillness, life is already bustling all around us. Quiet and stillness have to be carved out of all the busy-ness. But Jesus' way of life was just the opposite. He was every bit as busy as we are, and people were clamoring for his attention 24/7. And yet, his busy-ness followed a quiet and a stillness that preceded all the activity. I believe that if we're to have any measure of real genuine peace in our lives–and not just peace but shalom, that stable, rooted wholeness and well-being only God can provide–we need to find a way to get behind or beneath our busy-ness and establish a foundation of quiet and stillness. And then, ideally, we go on from there to build our activities and commitments upon what we hear from God in the stillness and quiet.
But how do we do that? Where do we even start? Part of the reason this is so hard is that we want action steps. But what this requires is a reset of our souls, not just a new habit.
As I write this, I'm getting ready to go off on a three-day retreat of my own. I've done this many times over the years, and I promised a minute ago that I'd share some of what I've learned with you, so let's get started! (If you want to know more, you'll have to sign up for the class!)
First, be patient with yourself. I've learned the hard way that trying to spend a day or two on my own in prayer sounds great, but it can be shockingly intimidating when you first sit down. The exact same thing happens when you try to take even ten minutes at the start of the day. "What do I do now?" Or all of a sudden your to-do list leaps into life like an animal in the wilderness and, afraid you'll forget this or that, you rush off with the resolve to come back "just as soon as I get this out of the way–otherwise, I'll forget it." Well, pat yourself on the back because you just learned first-hand what C.S. Lewis said happened to him. But he also gives us the solution:
"All your wishes and hopes for the day rush at you like wild animals. And the first job
each morning consists simply in shoving them all back; in listening to that other voice,
taking that other point of view, letting that other larger, stronger, quieter life come
flowing in. And so on, all day. Standing back from all your natural fussings and frettings;
coming in out of the wind."
Maybe keeping a pad and a pencil next to you will help. Right down what occurs to you to do, and then re-focus on Jesus. Don't worry, your list will still be there in ten minutes.
Second, be patient with yourself. (I know, that was #1–but it's also #2!). Most of us try to start beyond where we are, like training for a marathon by trying to run six miles and building from there to 26.2. That's not going to work, not in marathoning and not in solitude. Just like you have to start by running quarter miles and half miles, you need to start with minutes of solitude, not hours, days or weeks. So start with maybe five minutes of just quiet and stillness. (And this works best in the morning. If you want to build on a core of quiet and stillness, the quiet and stillness need to come first. Second best would be to do it right before bed.) Don't do anything, don't read anything, don't listen to anything. Just invite God to come. Ask Him to speak to you, and then be quiet. Don't try to listen, just be quiet. If you can be outside or look out a window, all the better. After that, take five minutes and read a short Bible story, like John the Baptist calling in the wilderness or Jesus calming the storm or feeding the five thousand. And then look for a word or an idea and just let it roll around in your heart for a minute or two. You can build on this over time, but there's no need to rush anything, it's not a contest. Just listen. Just pay attention.
Third, I have never–honestly, never–left a retreat without the compelling sense that the pace of life the way we normally live it is unhealthy and abnormal. I've learned not to try to do anything especially deep or meaningful other than some quiet Bible reading or even some other reading I may have brought along. Or maybe I'll go for a little walk or take a short nap. Regardless, I'll usually do very little until I get up the next morning. Remember what I said earlier about our souls needing to catch up with our bodies? It's a bit like turning a bicycle upside down and working the pedals real fast with your hands. Then you stop pedaling, but the wheel just keeps spinning … and spinning. Our souls operate exactly the same way. We can go to a quiet place and sit down and stop all of our frantic doing, but inside those wheels just keep on spinning. Don't panic or beat yourself up, just take some time and let them come to stillness all by themselves. Practice doing this (or at least being aware of the spinning) even in your little ten-minute retreats!
In the end, all we're after is finding a way to put ourselves in a position where God can get at us. Nobody gets additional brownie points. The only reward is the presence of Jesus, and then walking with Him through the course of the day. This is what He did in His relationship with the Father. He got his bearings at the beginning of the day, and then simply looked to see where the Father was at work and joined Him. This is the way of Jesus. This is the way of peace. There's more to it, of course–a whole lifetime more! But if we have the courage to spend a little time in the wilderness, we can begin to know the very same kind of peace.
Be encouraged, friend, for God, the Maker of Heaven and Earth, who spoke all worlds into being, is both with you and for you.
Comments