Monastic Retreats for Dummies III - A Visit in the Monastic Locker Room

I felt like I was in a movie. My monastic IQ was pretty low as I drove on the grounds at Mepkin Abbey. A few things from church history class at Milligan College came back to mind. The name St. Benedict rung a bell. So, I wanted to get the back story here. I wanted to see up under the hood of monastic life.

On day 2 I hit that monastic jackpot. I was prowling, wait no, I was enjoying the chapel during non-prayer meeting hours. I started opening doors. You know, no harm intended. I walked into a side room off from the main chapel. I saw an easel pushed away in the corner of what looked like a classroom. Page after page of notes were scribbled on the easel pad. Private notes.

Looks like the abbot (head monk) needed to have a "come to Jesus" meeting with the monks. You mean, Baptist churches are not the only places that have those kind of meetings? What I found on the pages of the pad, on the easel, was gold to me.

The issue seemed to be that some of the monks were struggling with keeping their mouth shut. Okay, now it was starting to feel creepy Baptist. My struggle with keeping my mouth shut is one thing. My tribe's well documented talking issues are another. But . . . these guys . . . those who had given their lives to silence and solitude?

What I read on the proceeding 10-12 large, ruled pages, scribbled with a marker, was in a word, revolutionary. So revolutionary that I have decided to do my first cliff hanger blog in history.
See you Monday. In the mean time . . . keep your mouth shut.

Monastic Retreats for Dummies II - Silence Every Voice

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.

Monastic Retreats for Dummies - Prayer, Solitude, and Silence for the Rest of Us

Mepkin Abbey turned out to be more significant than I thought. Don't get me wrong, the minute I pulled out of my driveway in West Columbia to drive that way, it was huge personal win.

I left two hours later than I should have. That was normal. Check-in at MA is 1-4 in the afternoon. I left around 1:45 but had two stops due north of my destinations so . . . I did not get there until about 4:20.

I already felt spiritually over matched. Around 22 monks live at Mepkin Abbey. Some are in their 80's and 90's. I am not sure if any of them have sinned very much. I mean, there was no internet, no cable t.v., or anything that might cause a person's mind/heart to steer off course. Here are guys, who have been at this prayer, silence, and solitude thingy for as long 65-70 years. Their first daily prayer meeting is at 3:20 a.m. Those who had not figured it out were long ago court marshaled or had faced a firing squad.

My beliefs about God are different than those guys at Mepkin Abbey. But to totally dismiss their experience with God because of the apparent theological flaws might cause me to miss something. I do believe in theological non-negotiables. However, my list has shrunk over the years. I confess.

So, the journey to M.A. began with a profuse apology to the monk in charge of check-in. The only thing that made me comfortable was his baldness. Little did I know that God had me right where He wanted me. Apologetic and spiritually over matched.

I remember what my Uncle Harold told me years ago. I was a highly motivated, sixth grade basketball player. "Always play with people that are better than you." That is a great principle in spiritual growth. I will talk to you more about why I shy away from Uncle Harold's advice tomorrow. Maybe you will see why you do too, if you do.

My World - Monastic Retreats for Dummies

Could it really be all about me? Tune in next week and follow my mystical journey to Mepkin Abbey www.mepkinabbey.org . Most of the experience was far too personal -- or could smell a bit self-promoting to tell the world about, yet there are parts you won't want to miss.

Feel no pressure of a "this is how spiritual I am" web log. In my years on the spirtual journey, this was the longest personal retreat by far (3 Days). My previous record was 24 hours, with an exhaustive list of cancellations. I don't think my experience at the abbey will intimidate.

I guess it might be best to call this "Monastic Retreats for Dummies" or "Silence, Prayer, and Solitude for the Rest of Us."

Marley and Me - Level 10 Girl Movie

Notice I resisted the temptation to say, "Chick Flick." Although never knowing anything in my adult life but Girls 'r Us in my home, I don't think that gives me permission to politically insensitive. Can we agree on girl movie? Girl movies appeal to our feminine sides if we are boys. We all have one, right?. Of course, for the girls, those movies are just another feel good, sinus draining, tear inspiring movie.

Marley and Me seemed to do well at the box office. But when you watch a big yellow lab from birth to death of old age you know you are at level 10. I don't think there was a man part it it, except for the chaos and destruction caused by Marley (the dog named after Bob Marley).

"Journey" is what is in right now. I talk about the journey when I speak, coach, and write. New churches called "The Journey" are common place. I walked away from the DVD version of Marley and Me thinking instead of Marley being a part of the journey, that we were a part of Marley's journey.

As we watched Marley get put to sleep by the vet at the end, as the tears and mucus flowed freely, we all made certain discoveries. Marley meant no harm . . . in all the chaos and destruction he caused from birth. Marley was a good dog with bad habits. Even though he was declared by his owner, as the "world's worse dog," he was the hero of the story. Just another day in the life of Girls 'R Us . . . and the scene of just another . . . Level 10 Girl Movie.

Performance Enhancers

I had good times and bad times last Saturday in the Governor's Cup. I had great advice from my lifelong friend Sid (link coming). I read books and websites.

One tip that helped me was to greet people who were along the route. I particularly focused on the kids. How fun! They were surprised. More serious runners did not waste their energy treating a 13.1 mile uphill race like a political campaign. I did. Guess what? It helped me. I greeted people. I waved at everybody (picture coming).

I am proud of my accomplishments. You probably could tell. But this is all work for me. I was never a track or cross country person back in the day. There were reasons: I am not that good at it and uh, it takes discipline. So, I look for advice, tips, honest ways to cheat the system, advantages, legal performance enhancers. You know what I mean.

Well, waving back at people, greeting them, being nice to them . . . was an incredible performance enhancer. My mind focused on others instead of the enormous hills and overwhelming distance. My focus was upon those who were so focused on me. Kind of a win -- win! When they cheered, I waved and said, "Thank you!" It felt great. Great tip. I am going to try it more today.

The Journey 5 - Deadly Bursts

I noticed a few less experienced runners on the trail. How could I tell? They were running way too hard at the beginning of the race. Too many deadly bursts. Tricky subject I know. How could I tell the difference? Didn't the top 10 finishers (I was in the bottom third of this big ugly) start out faster than me?

There was a big difference between the experienced runners who started quickly versus the inexperienced runners who started quickly. To the experienced runners it was about knowing purpose, preparation, and . . . drum roll please . . . self-awareness. How much fuel was in the tank when the race began?

Two major obstacles were faced by every runner. James (35) finished first with a time of 29.55. Terrance (52) finished last with a time of 1:15:49. Both faced personal obstacles and course obstacles. Both faced preparation issues and personal pain issues. They ran the same course, probably with different purposes. Who knows which one actually succeeded?

Let's see, three pieces of long hanging fruit, which one do you need to work on today? Definition of success? Personal obstacles (pain, disappointment, limitations)? Course obstacles (relationships, expectations of others, gas prices)? Where is God in the work?

Heading to ATL today. Wish I had some time to maneuver a bit, but strictly business. I love ATL. Tennessee Friday/Saturday. Willow Ridge Sunday. Prince Caspian Monday. Looks like the track is laid for the next few feet.

The Journey 4 - Finish

Most people do not finish well. I remember great advice I received when I was in school. Keep turning corners! Don't be overwhelmed by the big picture.

The old folks used to talk about how fast time goes. One day I woke up one of them. I understand now. Everything is temporary. The good, the bad, and the stuff in between. That is not intended to be a cynical view of life. To me, it motivates. Find a Bible and read Romans 8:18-39. Notice the journey aspect of the passage . . . The rhythm of life . . . The God perspective.

One lady on the trail said her goal was to finish without stopping. You Type A's probably think that is the stupidest vision statement ever. But if 60% of all leaders do not finish well, the stupid may be more powerful than at first glance. What do you think?

What a day yesterday! I survived family devotions at headquarters. Really turned out to be a friendly and receptive crowd. I have been speaking to groups for over 30 years. I am surprised and humbled by how nervous I get!

Spent the afternoon without some of my favorite movement makers in Greenville: Perry Duggar from Brookwood Church http://www.brookwoodchurch.org/ , Jay and Joanna Mitchell The Springs http://www.thesprings.org/, and Kermit (not easy being green) Morris. Just didn't feel like work, but I'm counting it. I'm savin' my vacation days.

The Journey 3 - Obstacles

I told you I talk some during races. My purpose in racing is to stay motivated. I have been in health rehab now for two years. I try not to act too much like a serious runner. People will expect too much out of me if I do. I am afraid they will laugh, when the see my times, and murmur, he thinks he is a runner. I guess I do that in other areas besides running.

I asked the water table, where is the pizza? I yelled at one of the trail guides, I thought you were the finish line! The trail looked the same to all of us on the journey. Or did it? I have a feeling that it looked different to Gerald (73) who finished third to last, than Olivia (11) who finished next to last. For the record I smoked both of them. I was at the finish line talking smack when they crossed. We all need someone to feel superior to, now don't we?

Crosspoint Bluffton launched at Sea Turtle Cinema yesterday. Looked like over 80 from the community and a bunch of eager volunteers/missionaries. Carl Martin is a movement maker. God invited he and a bunch of people to Bluffton.

Busy weekend. Talking to the staff at headquarters today. I am a little nervous talking to my peers. Kind of like family devotions. They know me too well to get by with faking.

The Journey 2 - Why?

Do people talk much during 8K races? What about 5K races? Not much. I am a Sanguine (High I on DISC). That means talking is what I do. Good, bad, or ugly, I get energy from talking and people.

Over half-way through the race we were at a narrow place in the path. I came upon a hard working lady in her 30's. She wanted to let me by. I told her I had never participated in a trail run. I said, this is fun! She said, me neither, my goal is to finish without stopping, feel free to pass me. She was pleasant. I agreed with her, my purpose was the same and I passed her.

Still not sure how many people ran Saturday. Maybe 75-100. All kinds of people, all kinds of purposes. Purpose drove everybody. You don't run 5 miles on a hot spring morning through woods, hills, streams, and open fields without purpose.

Rick Warren said, The most basic question everyone faces in life is, 'Why Am I Here?' When is the last time you took a hard look at that question? How you run the race will be influenced by your answer. The people who pass you will be influenced, too.

Recap - The Journey Continues

I learned the definition of a trail run this weekend. I admit I had a blogger's moment about one mile in on the Earth Fair 8K Trail Run. The terrain constantly changed. From ditches to streams, hot open fields to shaded pathways, there was little boredom on the five mile course.

What I noticed even more was the variety of people on the journey. The winner (not sure his time) was just practicing for the big 50K in Columbia next week. David, my son-in-law who came in second in his age category said he did not see the winner for very long. David ran the 8K in 35 minutes. Some people took more than an hour to finish.

My time was around 47.21. I was satisfied. I did not stop or injure myself. I probably finished in the middle of the pack. I had a little fuel at the end for a kick. For the spectators it may have not looked like a kick, but it felt like one.

The crowd of witnesses at the finish line was important to me. My family tried to make it but could not get there in time. The cheers made me run harder. I enjoy being cheered for, even if they are cheering because of my effort, not necessarily for my accomplishment. Cheer somebody on today. It means more to us then we will ever admit.

In Greenville today. Cheering people on. Columbia tomorrow. This past weekend was a gift to me in so many ways. I will tell you why as the week goes on.

Atlanta Bread is on My Breath

Still processing God's gift of people in my life. Also processing my metaphor - "spitting out the window of my fast moving car. "

This summer I enjoyed my 30th high school reunion (Hampton Bulldogs, Hampton, Tenn. Class of '77) and my 25th Wedding Anniversary with Yvette. The old people used to say how fast it all goes. I used to snicker, under my breath of course, at such ramblings. I wondered why they insisted on living in the past - and never related the two -- until now. The car moves so fast that the past is not really past.

I live off exit 111, I-26 in Columbia. My favorite hang out, Atlanta Bread, is off exit 108. It takes about 2 minutes (depending on how submissive I feel) to go from one exit to the next -- Atlanta Bread is still clear in my mind and on my breath when I exit 111 to go home. Don't snicker at me for living off exit 108. The sites, the smell, and the experience happened a mere seconds ago.


I began eternal life when I was born. My engines started in Newcomb Hospital, Vineland, New Jersey, Tuesday, November 10, 1959 at 10:53 p.m. My life can barely be called a series of exits on an eternal journey. It's really only one. Depressed? Hardly! Energized more like it. Urgent for sure. Blessed. So teach us (Lord) to number our days, that we may present to You a heart of wisdom (Ps 90:12).

Yesterday was a day that did not go as planned. The car moved fast, but exited in a totally differently place. Enjoyed great conversations with movement makers Dr. Jim Austin, Ronny Byrd, Richard Swift, Bill Howard, Neal McGlohon, Kermit Morris, Greg Abrams, and others. Today Columbia, tomorrow Spartanburg, Friday Charleston. I think. Stay tuned.