Shut Up Already! How Being Silent For Once Changed Everything.

April 30, 2015

A few weeks ago I willingly spent the weekend (or most of it) in silence. On purpose you guys.

Let me explain.

Last year I heard about a silent retreat weekend through my church. I (loudly) made jokes about how impossible that would be for me. The utter hell I would be in having to be silent for a weekend.

A year rolls by and the weekend retreat draws near once again. And a little nagging feeling kept bringing me back to it. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. I keep saying how I just want to get away from reality for a hot minute. After some very well meaning urging from supportive friends & family I decided to sign up.

I knew it was the right thing to do because the minute it was confirmed I panicked at the thought of it all. Which typically in my life means I’ve made the right decision and my fear is trying to talk me out of something I’m going to benefit from. It wasn’t the fear of not having my phone all weekend, as most of my friends, family and even myself joked about. It was that putting the phone down means it would just be me and my stupid overfilled, over-thinking brain. My phone is less of an addiction and more of a pacifier to all the things I don’t want to keep worrying about.

I had heard amazing things from friends about this place and these retreats and I’d already amassed a pretty massive mental list of things I wanted answers from God on. As if it’s as easy as creating a grocery list.

a) What is going to happen to me after this divorce? Check.

b) Will my boys end up being ok? I’ll get two of those.

c) How do I gain self worth again? Oh that’s in aisle 2.

So the weekend arrived, and off I went. Only a little over an hour from my home, I arrived late Friday afternoon to the beautiful and gigantic Jesuit Center. I was welcomed (with words) by a kind man that works there. He went over the layout and showed me to my room. I knew I had until dinner time and then an evening meeting with the other attendees from my church. On my own. Just me and my thoughts in a tiny, incredibly plain room.

I sat on my bed for a few minutes wondering if this is what it felt like to go to summer camp as a kid. If so, I wasn’t sure I liked it.

I decided I needed to get a better look at the amazing grounds and architecture of the building.

I grabbed my bag of books, journal, pencils and my long list of questions for God and headed outside.

The rest of Friday went pretty much like this:

Wow. This place is gorgeous! I guess I’ll sit here and think. I want to put my bare feet in the grass. Man, I really should have gotten a pedicure first, woof. Ok, God. Here I am. I have my bag fully stocked with a bible and paper and pens to write all my thoughts, and all your answers, on. I have some water and cough drops and tissues. I could not be more prepped. I’m pretty good at prepping. I like this bag too. I need to wash it though, I think a juice box exploded in it last time I used it.

“BE STILL…”

Whoa, spider. I just killed a spider. Sorry God. It was a nasty one though. Great, first hour here and I’m already killing stuff. I wonder what a Jesuit is anyway? I should have brought better walking shoes. B minus in shoe selection Sarah. I wonder if the food is any good here. I wonder what everyone else here is “in for”.

“BE STI…”

Man there are a lot of birds here. Ok, I should pray. Praying. Praying. I guess the birds didn’t get the memo on the whole silent part of the retreat huh? That’s ok, it’s nice. And a train whistle off in the distance. And church bells ringing. Man this is picturesque at it’s best. Oh right, praying. Listening. Listening to God. Listening….I wonder how loud the Garden of Eden was. Man I bet it was insanely loud. The animals that live at this place must have really made it. I bet they write their family members about their lives here and make them all crazy jealous. Oh right, ok God. I’m ready. Let’s do this.

“COOL, THANKS. BE…ST…”

Dinner doesn’t look so bad. God it’s quiet in here. Why am I such a loud human? Please don’t scratch the knife on the plate when you cut your pork chop Sarah. Don’t spill the coffee. Don’t spill the coffee. I don’t even drink coffee. What am I doing? It’s amazing how fast dinner is done when you aren’t talking to people. Do I make eye contact with people? I mean they are sitting right across from me! I wonder what side of the building sunset is on. Sun sets in the west. Where is west?

“BE STILL…”

I wonder how pissed God is that I dropped that crucifix that was laying on my pillow. Honest mistake buddy! What a great breeze out here. Of all the winds, breezes are my favorite. Shoot, this bag is heavy, maybe a study bible wasn’t my best choice. Oh look a bumblebee. Remember when they rode on bumblebees in Honey, I Shrunk The Kids? It was that movie wasn’t it?

“STOP. ENOUGH. BE STILL, AND KNOW THAT I AM GOD”

Whoa…..Ok. Alright. Who do I say you are God? Who do you say I am? What am I doing here?

After that things got much easier. I should rephrase that. Quieting my thoughts got easier, the weekend just got tougher and more emotional but in the best possible way.

Once I realized how very little I could hear God through my own thoughts, all I wanted to do was be quiet and listen. Slowly my list of demands for God melted away and my overwhelming desires for the weekend emerged.

Peace. I needed peace. In all forms and for all things. And joy. I want to be full of it again. That is what I kept coming back to in all my prayers and thoughts all weekend long.

All day Saturday you are pretty much on your own. Come to meals, or don’t. Take a nap all day, or don’t. Make eye contact, or don’t. I got up early and tried to catch the sunrise but missed most of it. Instead I sat on a bench and cried. Not because I missed the sunrise, but because I needed to cry. I didn’t see anyone else that morning, and if I had it wouldn’t have mattered. Everyone is there for their own reasons and respect for that abounds. It was the first good cry I had had in months. Maybe all year. And it’s what opened me up to what turned out to be a kick ass weekend. I walked to a small cemetery on the grounds that has a crucifix between some trees at the back. I stood there, in front of something I have never, ever attached any emotion to, religious or otherwise. I’ve actually never been fond of them. But I stood there and apologized, I’m not sure why. For everything. Ever. And cried.

My day was filled with….calm. There is nothing to rush for there. You don’t walk anywhere, you stroll. You stop and stare at a woodpecker in a tree. You walk through a field and lay in the sun (until you notice a tick crawling on you). You lay under a tree for 3 hours. And think, and pray, and read, and write. Boy, did I write. I filled at least half of a large notepad. I wrote a new list of “demands” for the weekend. A much more attainable and honest one. And I prayed over each item. And journaled every single thought or feeling that came into my head.

It started out as a lot of writing about “Who am I supposed to be? How am I going to get over this part of my life? How can I be the mom my boys need me to be? Will I ever be loved again? Will I ever feel worthy of love again? How do I learn to trust God and receive help? Will I ever be able to look back on this time of my life without hurting?”

Slowly the thoughts and journaling changed from fear and pain to, “He can make all things new again. He heals the broken. I’m not alone. Stop trying to be someone you think people will like. Stop trying. Just be. I made you just the way I wanted you to be. You. Are. Enough.”

Heavy…

I even broke the rules and talked to a friend that was on the retreat. It just sort of happened and I think it was divine intervention because even in that moment, God was there. Speaking to me through a friend that listened and related.

The next day I got up even earlier and walked to a perfect spot to watch an absolutely breathtaking sunrise. As I sat there and, shocker, cried some more, I realized how much God had spoken to me that weekend. Not as I had always wanted him to though. My preference would be a giant billboard with my name on it and details on when and how my life will improve. Neon lights, sky writers, singing telegrams…you know, something super obvious. Nope. God spoke to me in all my thoughts and feelings pouring out on paper. In that perfect sunrise. In a single goose coming to land so close to me that I could hear it’s wings beating. In remembering a verse exactly when I needed it. In the moments lying under a tree, putting flowers in my hair.

The reason I know that this was more than just a weekend away full of rest and reflection? I was moved to pray for my ex. And not like the jokes go “Sure, I pray he’ll get hit by a truck. I pray he’ll fall off a bridge.” And not even in the usual “Please make him come back” sort of prayers. I prayed FOR him. I prayed that he would find what he needed, that he would figure out what is wrong with him and that he would maybe one day find God. This was the toughest, but most necessary part of the trip for me.

After a wonderful meeting & lunch with the other attendees, one where we could actually talk, I reluctantly headed home. Thankful for the connections with amazing people, the intensely personal and revealing time I had within my own heart and feeling utterly refreshed.

Yes, life in the real world goes on and kids will be kids and troubles don’t disappear. Slowly the “glow” from that weekend fades and I have to remind myself of the calm and resolve I found while there. And one thing keeps coming back to me when I most need it.

Peace. In songs and sermons and books, peace has become a recurring theme. That’s how I remember to center myself and continue on the journey that started that weekend.

And when I need to, I repeat the one thing that was my most solid take away from my time there:

“Peace I leave with you. My peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your heart be troubled, and do not be afraid”

A-freaking-men!