The following was not written for this blog. It was written for "The Voice," our church newsletter. The next few blog posts are articles I wrote for The Voice. No one really reads the church newsletter, which leads me to think I ought to try something a bit racy next week. For now, there's this:
Friday, March 25, I stuffed my backpack with books, snacks, medical forms and a sweatshirt; grabbed my water bottle, and boarded a First Student school bus. Waiting for me were over three dozen middle school students, hyped-up with energy (and caffeine) and ready for the three-hour trip to Roach, MO.
“This is great. You’re excited. You’re going to have an excellent weekend. No one will get hurt. No one will hate you. The kids will have fun. You will bring them home safely.” I repeatedly chanted these phrases to myself loudly enough to drown out the songs from Messiah’s spring musical, but quietly enough to avoid drawing too much attention. Either the mantra sank in pretty deeply or God chose to surprise me (I think the latter). The weekend really was quite excellent. None of the 20 kids that came along from St. Stephen expressed deep feelings of resentment toward me and all of them came back safe and healthy, albeit a little sleep-deprived. I daresay they may even have learned something in the 48 hours we spent together. I know I did.
I’ve taken part in my fair share of retreats, camps and weekends away in the past ten years: volleyball camps, dance camp, Christian teen retreats, National Youth Gathering, campus ministries retreats, church camp, and long road trips with good friends. There are reasons we leave. Reasons we need to “get away” physically in order to “get away” spiritually. And there are reasons we do this together, as a community. Something about three-hour bus trips, fast food frenzies, team building exercises and shared sleeping arrangements is bonding. In a single weekend we are often able to meet, know, and connect with one another and with our heavenly Father more deeply and memorably than we do over nine months of weekly Sunday school classes. That is not to negate Sunday school or the benefit of regular rhythms, patterns and practices - all of which I believe to be vital – only to say that retreats also have their place and purpose.
This past weekend 20 middle school students, four adult chaperones and I joined over 600 other middle school student from over 40 different LCMS churches in learning more about what it means to pray. Together we pondered what it means that a holy God has invited us to call him Abba (“Daddy”), together we trekked through the wind and snow to get to the chicken tenders in cafeteria (well, some of us may have driven), together we worshipped with Parrallax View, and together we debriefed in our cabins, put on our pajamas and didn’t go to sleep as soon as we should have.
I can’t tell you the impact that three days away had on any of the individuals that went to Windermere, but I can tell you that it had an impact, that those three days someone seemed to be a week in length, that they allowed for the fostering of conversation and forming of relationships. And I can tell you that when we cut ties to our work, our electronic devices, our do-lists and our agendas, it allows us to make receptive space in our hearts. It is when we are away, when we are in need, when we are without our entertainments, comforts, familiarities and friends that God can most effectively work.
You may not be able to sacrifice three days, and you probably do not need to go to Camp Windermere, but I challenge you to “get away,” to go someplace where you will be in need, and out of your need to learn what it means for your Abba to fill you, to meet with you as he met with Moses on the mountain and in the desert. Leave what you know, that you might discover what you do not.
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