I think my uncle was right. We need to be over matched to grow. Yet, people (my pastor, Bill Howard, told me this) have perfectly good reasons for doing what they do. I will never grow with the Lord if I avoid environments that make me feel awkward, silly, and inadequate. My sense of adequacy or even superiority freezes me in time. But they are so comfortable. They are so reassuring and dependable.Why would I go on a retreat at Mempkin Abbey? I confessed earlier this week that solitude and personal retreats have never been a priority. I knew at this point I needed more. I needed deeper. I needed quiet. Yet the prospect was awkward.
Wayne Cordeiro 's book, Leading on Empty, was recommended to me in March. Perfect timing. In the midst of Wayne's valley he withdrew to a monastic retreat. As he unfolded the story, the following caught my attention:
During my time of solitude, I asked God to silence every voice but His own.
That was a hammer for me. All the voices in my head needed to stop. From Fox News to ESPN; to the Internet to the latest book; from the recorded voices throughout my lifetime; even from the dark side, Satan himself, something had to stop the voices. Thus, getting away from them was the only way.
The monks had committed their lives to silence. This particular order had gone contemporary. I hope they never contemplate taking abbey out of the name of Mepkin Abbey. I hope they never show a movie clip in vespers. But, for a few hours a day, while they worked, they could talk to each other. Don't know when and why they changed, but they did. For some reason. Essentially it came to around 12 on 12 off on the talking thing.
I wanted to ask them questions. I would have loved to interview one of them for my blog. But . . . no talky. Not many voices there on the Ashley River. Not many at all. Not any place for me to say: bed hard; food cold; or I quit. Just a place for all voices to stop. It took awhile, but I think it happened, except for one voice. More on silence coming.
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