A Spiritual Retreat

I had been thinking of setting aside some time for a tryst, a time of intimacy with God. Now I have no reason to procrastinate because there is a class assignment to do just that - set aside a half day to follow a prescribed set of exercises to help us intersect with the Almighty.

It's not that I needed to escape a hectic schedule or get away from the noise. No, I am still not at that level of activity. Its more that I have focused too much on my physical being and on my well being, and not enough on my spirit, my relationship with God.

I spent a long time trying to figure out where to go. There is a monastery south of Rochester that I have wanted to visit for some time now, but I knew if I went there, I would be drawn into their rhythms of life, their services and music, their silences. That wouldn't be conducive to completing the assignment. And besides, it would be so enjoyable in itself that I fear I would ignore the very one I intended to spend time with!

There is a prayer center here in Rochester, but it seemed booked with other activities and rather uncontactable. Perhaps I should rent a hotel room, but besides the cost, it doesn't seem the right place to have a special tryst, a holy encounter. Too mundane. Too many distractions. Same for the mall, same for a spare room in a friend's house.

My own place wouldn't work, and the book specifically said not where you work. But libraries are quiet, and ours is also beautiful and elegant. I thought about other libraries. Rush Rhees has some posh reading rooms - all gleaming wood and burnished brass. But there is no convenient parking, and I don't want to interrupt my meditations to have to run out into the freezing cold to feed a parking meter.

In the end, I decided to sneak into my own library, up the back stairs, and hunker down in the Fireside Reading Room clandestinely. The invitation to curl up by the fire in a room filled with huge windows was too hard to resist.

I packed excitedly, as if I were heading to the Bermudas for a secret rendezvous with my lover. My backpack is bulging with my retreat manual, my new BIG PRINT Bible that Kiel gave me for Christmas, my journal and special writing pen (the fat metal one with the smooth roller motion that fits my hand well), my purple pashima shawl to wrap up in, a small wooden cross, my heart shaped multicolored prayer beads that Drew gave me years ago, a strip on palm from last Easter - things to create a bit of sacred space.

I rise early to set my house in order - its so hard to be in the moment if your mind is in your messy kitchen! I pay the bills, work out at the gym, shower and dress comfortably, run Drew to Robotics, grab a quick and filling lunch, and finally, finally, filled with expectation, I pull into the library parking lot, swipe my card in the reader at the back door and sneak in, climbing the back stairs, my wet sneakers squeaking noisily on the rubber treads as I tiptoe to the Fireside Reading Room.

To prepare for this time, I listened to my new St Olaf CD's of sacred music. The songs are gentle, fluid, calming, uplifting - a great preparation - sort of like making sure your spirit is washed and properly attired before entering into the presence of the King's private reception room. I lay my things out on the coffee table, my bottle of cool water nearby and curl up in my shawl, taking a deep breath before beginning the exercises.

Outside, the air is white with swirling snow. I am struck by how much the tower on the front of the library resembles a church steeple. It is easy to feel I am in a sacred place. The fire crackles cheerfully, warming me to my center. The space is empty save for my self.

I read the opening prayer, confident that God will meet me immediately with the falling of the first words. I open my heart and my mind, but I do not sense the presence of God. I am alone in the room with the crackling fire, surrounded only be the swirling snow outside the windows. Surely God knew we had this time set aside, didn't he?

I persevere. I read the assigned Scripture verses. I hear only my own breath coming and going. No still small voice, no whispers of a loving God. Just quietness. I wait, closing my eyes as if in the blocking of the physical world I can somehow see the eternal one. But I only see the darkness. Where is he? Maybe he went to the wrong location! Did I even invite him before I went to all this trouble of preparation? Didn't I just assume he would know, assume he would come?

I sigh. There is nothing I can do to make myself enter into some sense of God's presence. Ten minutes go by. It's not like I can somehow muster the right feelings or pretend that I am connected. Twenty minutes without so much as a whisper. I wait uncertainly for a few more minutes, finally deciding to focus on the assignment. Even if I don't sense that God is right here with me, it will not be wasted time. There is much richness in the readings and the Scripture.

I start the first reading, and suddenly without announcement, he is there, laughing joyously at me and with me, blessing me, wrapping me in his love. I am so delighted that I stop reading and just enjoy our meeting. All sorrow at being alone is gone. This - this - is what I have been longing for. Being with him and knowing he is with me.

But we must get down to business. There is work to be done today. God reminds me of things in my past experience that were less than joyful, experiences I carry with me that affect my ability to love others freely, my ability to move forward myself. He repeatedly assures me that even when I did something inappropriate, he still loves me. I am forgiven. Life can be abundant and filled with new and satisfying things.

I move through waves of sorrow, repentance, happiness, tears, overwhelming tenderness, fulfillment, joy. It is intense. It is restorative. It is good. It is half time! I break for a bit of exercise and snack and recovery, digesting all we have been through. He is patient, waiting for me to absorb it all.

I come back to the fire, and listen to the Spirit show me how the fire is like God's love. It warms and comforts. The outside, filled with coldness and snow, is too far from the fire. Many Christians stay in the room with the fire, but are so close to the world, they get chilled and don't get the full benefit of the fire. My chair is in that just right place of being close enough to the fire to stay warm, and close enough to the world to reflect the glow and a bit of heat to those who need it.

I understand the tension, I offer my humble thought that its worse to be too cold than too hot. I sense him smile. Yes, when people are too cold, they put on layers to try and stay warm instead of drawing closer to the fire. They fill their lives with activities, possessions, responsibilities, people, ministries and cares. While that will keep some of the cold away, it leaves you numb and not able tomove or function well.

Better to come back to the fire and warm up! When you feel yourself numb, unable to care, weighed down by excess baggage, just come back to the fire, get close to God again. That is why these little retreats are so important - to help you see how far you may have strayed from God's love.

I close my eyes, contented, slide my headset over my ears, and drift on a sea of gentle music, basking in the warmth of his love. Too quickly, the time passes. Too quickly an entire half day is gone. Too soon I must pack my bag and leave our tryst, venturing back to the physicalworld, still warmed by our time together, already planning the next date. I am determined not to allow myself to grow cold.