Celebrating My Recessive Retreat Gene

I apparently have something of a recessive “slacker” gene that has become dominant lately. It’s the only explanation I can come up with for my recent onset of chronic laziness.

For instance, with the earlier sunrise in the northern hemisphere and the opportunity to jump out of bed for a fresh start in the morning, I’ve discovered room-darkening window shades and the snooze button on my alarm clock. Finally free from the shackles of a brutal winter, with the chance to take an evening walk arm-in-arm with my beloved through the budding trees and fragrant blooms of spring, I am transfixed on all those vital television shows that I missed during the writers’ strike. (Not to mention all the wonderful parenting tips I’m picking up from Super Nanny.)

It’s as if I’ve pushed the slow scan button on my real-life DVD player and I find myself moving through the day like a wheelbarrow through Jell-O. Or mud. Really thick, colorful, fruit-flavored mud.

So my ears perked up (very slowly and methodically) when I saw that the High Calling Blogs network was looking for bloggers to address the topic of “retreats.” It wasn’t that I had anything to contribute on the topic; I was just happy that someone gave me something to write about. I’d been too lazy to even come up with a blog topic recently! (Has it really been February since I last posted something?!)

But actually, I love a good spiritual retreat. Retreats have been a core part of my spiritual experience. I have done so many church leadership retreats, my pastor jokes, that we’ve moved the church about six blocks backwards.

I enjoy spiritual retreats for a couple reasons. One, they take you out of your daily grind and give you a fresh perspective. They force you to upset your routine and hopefully reset your mind, coming face-to-face with your Creator in the process.

Perhaps more importantly to me, they are appealing because my version of solitary retreats gives me an excuse to avoid people. As someone who is so introverted that I avoid eye contact when I walk by a mirror – for fear I’ll have to get into a long and boring conversation – retreats are the perfect opportunity to avoid our society’s penchant for trying to make transitory things seem more important than they are. (“As for man,” the Psalmist reminds us, “his days are like grass; as a flower of the field, so he flourishes. When the wind has passed over it, it is no more, and its place acknowledges it no longer.” Psalm 103:15-16.)

But I most enjoy spiritual retreats when they force me to push “re-set.” A well-conducted retreat requires simply that God and I have some quality time.

Some people have John 3:16 as their life verse. Some have adopted Romans 8:28: “…all things work together for good…” But once I stumbled across Mark 6:30-32, I knew I had found one of my foundational passages of scripture.

Upon welcoming back the disciples from their first foray into the world, Jesus knew the group needed to get off the treadmill for a while.

“The apostles gathered together with Jesus; and they reported to Him all that they had done and taught. And He said to them, ‘Come away by yourselves to a secluded place and rest a while.” (For there were many people coming and going, and they did not even have time to eat.) They went away in the boat to a secluded place by themselves.”

Ahh… that’s what I’m looking for. There’s a lot of God’s plan I don’t understand. But I “get” the value of a spiritual retreat. How could I not love a God that models quiet time for spiritual rejuvenation?

(Besides, I can record those television shows and watch them later, anyway.)

What’s your favorite retreat experience? Share it with the High Calling blogs.