This post is a blatant attempt to win a contest for a retreat and be linked to other bloggers who are entering.
The first retreat of my life lasted about three minutes. As a spunky three-year old, I got up from bed one summer morning at my grandparent’s house in rural Southern Illinois to sneak out, all by myself, and sit on the back porch steps to watch the sun come up.
I don’t know what drew me–perhaps it was the restless bliss of no-boundaries-except-love-where-grandparents-rule. But when the hazy eastern horizon burped up that great, molten red orb–and the sun sat on my chest and lifted me to my feet–I wanted it. Not in the same way a three-year-old wants a lollipop, but in the way a soul longs for union with Transcendence. I didn’t want to grasp it and hold, it. I wanted it to grasp and hold me.
I’ve been trying to come to terms with that first retreat for my whole life and my entire spiritual journey. I’ve interepreted it with different categorial labels during various stages of life, but never satisfactorily.
I no longer view it as evidence of my eternal pre-existence with God, because my understanding of the soul has become less dualistic based on study of the Jewish roots of the Christian faith. My emerging interpretation suggests it represents the first evidence of my sprititual hard-wiring–my body mind, soul longing for God.
That longing consumes me even today, but in the clamoring cacaphony of life, I struggle to follow where it leads me consistently.
But I take heart in Elijah’s experience. The point of the whirlwind and earthquake and fire was not to show the contrast of God’s gentle whisper in the still aftermath of the cataclysm. This is apocalyptic imagery, designed to be taken as a whole, to shake cosmic foundations and rip the veil of mystery from top to bottom.
I’d love to sit metaphorically on my grandparents’ back porch steps again someday and watch the sun come up. To have the courage to retreat and the strength to endure the cataclysmic longing for God–to surrender, once and for all, to the mystery.
Posted on May 5th, 2008 by Kathy
Filed under: Monday's Church, Spiritual Disciplines, Out On a Limb, Uncategorized
“the courage to retreat” struck me. It does take courage to surrender to mystery. We’re so focused on product and productivity, we forget how to play or even how to relax.
Even when I play with my kids I think of it as productive daddy time. Where’s the mystery in that? Thanks for participating!
Nothing wrong with a blatant attempt. I think they’d like that. But for all its “blatantness,” I have to say that this post is beautifully poignant. Retreat flipped upside down as advance… advance from the Great Other, even as you sat still and watched His oncoming.
(Hopped over from Goodword, btw.)
Mark, I’m happy to find (and add you to my bloglines!) your blog through L.L.’s. And L.L., I’ve been a lurker at your lyrical site for a long time! Thanks for stopping by!
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Kathy, I so appreciate the contrast of you as a toddler stealing away for a moment. I would never have thought of a small child either needing to or appreciating a little time away. Great way to change my perspective!
[…] already had some good entries from L. L. Seedling, Carl Gyrovague, Gordon Real Live Preacher and Kathy Beyond Words. Also, Jacob Share is helping us promote the project again. Thanks Jacob! You’re welcome to […]
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