With my posterior numb from book-reading, I walked for miles around the retreat center on the country roads surrounding it. And I listened. I listened to swooping birds and swaying trees, to crunchy gravel under my feet and similar noises coming from my hipbones, to incessantly chattering squirrels and seemingly out-of-nowhere claps of thunder. With my ears, eyes, and skin, I listened to all creation declaring the glory of God and reminding me to stay humble in my role as pastor. After all, worship is obviously on 24/7 where anything does its God-given business of living.

I wondered that week what I was supposed to listen for. (It’s just like me to take a simple task and turn it into a project.) At the end of the week, I wondered if I’d wasted my time. In prayer, I asked God what I’d missed. I’d experienced no breakthrough or insight. I wasn’t returning to work resurrected from my Lenten efforts, ready to tackle all things with supernatural energy and renewed creativity. Where had I gotten off track?

And then I remembered (and God often speaks to us through memory) the purpose of my retreat: Just listen. I’d done that, every day. It remains for me to make meaning of five days of just listening. But one thing is clear. I still have a ways to go before I’m comfortable not producing, performing, or striving in my practice of faith.

In the meantime, I guess I’ll have to make my peace with just showing up from time to time.

~ Pastor Macc