The Silent Retreat

We sat in silence today. Not because we were angry, not because we didn’t have anything to say, but rather because we choose it. (Well, kind of).

Thursday we exercised the spiritual discipline of silence. It wasn’t the type of silence where we had to sit still and do nothing, but rather we were given the space to do what we wanted to (or needed to do). Our silence started at 11 am and lasted until 4 pm. So yeah, I am glad we were given the freedom to explore the silence otherwise it would’ve been a long day.

What I wanted to do during this time was explore various ways to pray – to think outside of the box when it comes to communicating with God. Prayer is so much more than just closing our eyes and muttering a few words, yet, it’s basically the only form I use. I really like the verse in Acts that says “In Him we live and move and have our being…” But what does that look like? Well today, I tried to explore that verse mostly when it comes to notion of prayer.

During the early part of the afternoon, I headed out to the lake (which is only 2 blocks away from JPUSA. Yeah, it's sweet). After wandering around for awhile, I found a good spot, pulled out a notebook, and started writing out my prayer. I was in the midist of things when I wrote down "I come to you by the water and give you my hand."

I stopped writing after that. I reread what I wrote.

I come to you by the water and give you my hand.

As I reflected on that sentence, I started to wonder if if I was the "I" in that sentence. I hand meant it as part of my prayer to God, but the more I thought of it, the more like it sounded like that's what God was trying to tell me. Maybe that's true, maybe it's not. But the more I thought of it, the more fitting it seemed to add "Come walk with me" right after it.

Come and walk with me.

So I finished up quickly, stood up, and walked for a very long time. It seemed fitting. It seemed like I was walking in prayer. Yet, it wasn't a prayer walk in the sense of how we traditionally think of them. I tried to pray for the city a little bit, but eventually I just walked. Although there was noise all around me: people fishing, listening to music, and generally enjoying the beautiful afternoon. Yet, there was this profound sense of silence around me. A silence that sounded, or felt, like holiness. As if the movement of my feet alone was a prayer.

Thinking back on that long walk (which lasted about two and half hours), I can't even remember what I thought about exactly. But I do know that it was somehow profound. After all, it got me thinking; what if we lived and moved and had our being completely in Christ? If everything we did was a prayer, an act of worship to God. Even something as lame as walking around.

I found a lot of beauty in the silence today.

Come, walk with me...