Retreat

Retreat
1. the forced or strategic withdrawal of an army or an armed force before an enemy, or the withdrawing of a naval force from action.

2.	the act of withdrawing, as into safety or privacy; retirement; seclusion.

3.	a place of refuge, seclusion, or privacy: The library was his retreat.

(dictionary.com)

Any good historian will tell you that there are times in the midst of battle in which one must retreat, withdraw, regroup.

I think that's where I'm living right now. Since the new year, my life has been a battle of proportions I've never before encountered, and at this juncture I find myself exhausted and in need of a chance to withdraw into safety, to find a place of refuge and seclusion.

I don't know anymore if that is the wisest course of action, but it is the course of action I've chosen for a bit.

I'm curled up inside myself, hiding from reality in novels, losing myself in the lives of characters for whom, if life does not turn out perfect, there is almost always a perfectly obvious redeeming characteristic or event readily available.

I'm regrouping, asking myself questions I thought long settled, that have been stirred by events of the past week. I'm wondering what my answers are to the questions "who am I?" and "what am I made for?" I would have told you that I could answer those, but someone close to me told me a week ago that I could not, that I used pretty words to answer, that served to cover "aimless maturing" and "unfocused passion". I am deeply stung by this accusation, and find myself questioning even the things that seem most simple and true in my supposed answers.

I am thinking this week about the story of the treasure buried in the field, and the pearl of great price, and the man who gave up everything to obtain that one thing. It feels as if there are things that will cost me dearly in front of me, in order that I might obtain that one true treasure.

I'm wondering at my own growing intuition and awareness of things that would seem to exist only in the spiritual realm. I was shopping in a trendy neighborhood with my mom last weekend, visiting a clothing consignment shop that shared space with a new age/occult bookstore and crystal shop. I noticed the sign advertising psychics in the back of the book portion of the shop, but paid little attention as I headed towards the door. My mom paused to look at something that had caught her eye, and I paused alongside her. A gentleman approached me and asked if I was "Nicole" (I think that's the name he used). Everything inside me instantly tensed, the spiritual part of me jumping back. This perfectly jovial, rotund late middle-aged gentleman had incited an unexpected response. Looking back, I'm quite sure that he was one of the advertised psychics. (Which brings to mind the old joke about psychics - "if he was truly psychic, why didn't he know who the person was that was to meet him?")

I'm surprised by the directions God has led my thoughts and prayers. I took a long walk on Saturday morning in Fish Creek Park, taking time to pray and prepare myself for an encounter I was dreading later in the day. I was slightly surprised to find myself unable to pray for that situation, and delighted as Jesus led me through a long period of interceeding for friends all over the world, before very naturally walking with me through my own requests for that day and the next weeks and months.

I feel in retreat. I'm taking a few moments to regroup, to try and rest, to focus less on the intensity of the things going on in my life. I'm working through the very mundane tasks on my "to-do" list for this week. Things like cleaning the bathroom, laundry, tidying my desk, emptying the garbage pail in my bedroom, watching a rented DVD, and updating the playlists on my ipod. I'm making space for reading and studying, but also space for novels, movies, and the relationships I'm involved in that are life-giving.

I feel oddly off balance when it comes to writing. Like there are a million things to say and at the same time absolutely nothing worth saying.

If the blog is quiet this next week or so, you now know why!

A Barrage of Henri Nouwen

Okay, so I haven't had time to post them before now, but here's a hole bunch of gems from Nouwen that have arrived in my inbox over the last week and a half. Hope you enjoy them!

The Breath of God Within Us

When we speak about the Holy Spirit, we speak about the breath of God, breathing in us. The Greek word for "spirit" is pneuma, which means "breath." We are seldom aware of our breathing. It is so essential for life that we only think about it when something is wrong with it.

The Spirit of God is like our breath. God's spirit is more intimate to us than we are to ourselves. We might not often be aware of it, but without it we cannot live a "spiritual life." It is the Holy Spirit of God who prays in us, who offers us the gifts of love, forgiveness, kindness, goodness, gentleness, peace, and joy. It is the Holy Spirit who offers us the life that death cannot destroy. Let us always pray: "Come, Holy Spirit, come."

Jesus' Freedom

Jesus was truly free. His freedom was rooted in his spiritual awareness that he was the Beloved Child of God. He knew in the depth of his being that he belonged to God before he was born, that he was sent into the world to proclaim God's love, and that he would return to God after his mission was fulfilled. This knowledge gave him the freedom to speak and act without having to please the world and the power to respond to people's pains with the healing love of God.

That's why the Gospels say: "Everyone in the crowd was trying to touch him because power came out of him that cured them all" (Luke 6:19).

Jesus' Compassion

Jesus is called Emmanuel which means "God-with-us" (see Matthew 1: 22-23). The great paradox of Jesus' life is that he, whose words and actions are in no way influenced by human blame or praise but are completely dependent on God's will, is more "with" us than any other human being.

Jesus' compassion, his deep feeling-with us, is possible because his life is guided not by human respect but only by the love of his heavenly Father. Indeed, Jesus is free to love us because he is not dependent on our love.

Jesus' Self-Portrait

Jesus says: "Blessed are the poor, the gentle, those who mourn, those who hunger and thirst for uprightness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, and those who are persecuted in the cause of uprightness" (Matthew 5:3-10). These words offer us a self-portrait of Jesus. Jesus is the Blessed One. And the face of the Blessed One shows poverty, gentleness, grief, hunger, and thirst for uprightness, mercy, purity of heart, a desire to make peace, and the signs of persecution.

The whole message of the Gospel is this: Become like Jesus. We have his self-portrait. When we keep that in front of our eyes, we will soon learn what it means to follow Jesus and become like him.

Jesus is Poor

Jesus, the Blessed One, is poor. The poverty of Jesus is much more than an economic or social poverty. Jesus is poor because he freely chose powerlessness over power, vulnerability over defensiveness, dependency over self-sufficiency. As the great "Song of Christ" so beautifully expresses: "He ... did not count equality with God something to be grasped. But he emptied himself, ... becoming as human beings are" (Philippians 2:6-7). This is the poverty of spirit that Jesus chose to live.

Jesus calls us who are blessed as he is to live our lives with that same poverty.

Jesus is Gentle

Jesus, the Blessed One, is gentle. Even though he speaks with great fervor and biting criticism against all forms of hypocrisy and is not afraid to attack deception, vanity, manipulation and oppression, his heart is a gentle heart. He won't break the crushed reed or snuff the faltering wick (see Matthew 12:20). He responds to people's suffering, heals their wounds, and offers courage to the fainthearted.

Jesus came to bring good news to the poor, sight to the blind, and freedom to prisoners (see Luke 4:18-19) in all he says, and thus he reveals God's immense compassion. As his followers, we are called to that same gentleness.

Softly...

This has been one of the more challenging weeks of my life in recent history, and I find myself somewhat at a loss for words to describe it, to help those around me understand.

I say that because I've tried to describe it in person to friends over the course of the week, and haven't been able to find the words. Only one has understood, and he understood because he has lived some similar experiences.

I promise that I'll make a stab at it for you in the next few days. Really, I'll make a stab at it for me, because this blog, if nothing else is a way for me to chronicle my life and the journey God has been taking me on.

My brain still feels quiet. Things moving softly. The processing more deep and internalized than it has been in a while.

I'd appreciate your prayers as I walk out some difficult situations. I'm asking God for courage, strength, patience and peace.

The End of a Balancing Act?

I feel like I’ve been walking this bizarre tightrope/balancing act in a whole bunch of arenas of my life for a very long time now.

The line between honoring God and honoring my parents.

The line between the intellectual and the experiential.

The line between the world I grew up in, and the world I find myself a part of.

The line between individualism and community.

I’m tired of the balancing. I never have liked middle ground – too exposed – being shot at from both sides. I’m wondering what would happen if I just let myself fall? What if I just picked a side, and tumbled off the tightrope? Can I do that? I don’t know if I can keep up the balancing act much longer…

Cryptic

Okay, I know that last post is cryptic...

It's been a rather long and interesting span of time between the end of work yesterday and now...

Pretty painful, lots of tears...

I promise an update sometime in the next few days...