This morning I had the rare opportunity to willingly wake up before the sunrise. I gently put our newborn back in her bassinet, quietly made a coffee, carefully navigated a chair through the sliding back door, and silently sat in the backyard for almost an hour. Even with the low hum of 75 in the background, the morning was quiet. The stars shone brighter than normal. Everything was still. Time just slowed down. Yet, I couldn’t relax.
Maybe you’re like me and the sheer speed at which life moves makes even your idle mind feel like it’s sprinting from one thought to another, from one problem to the next, from one anxiety to another anxiety. This was me this morning. I so desperately grasped for this moment of peace, but I couldn’t find my grip. So, I did the only thing I could, I began to pray.
For the first time in (honestly) a few months, I felt surrounded by the all-encompassing presence of God. I lingered there for as long as I could. In the same way he breathed the breath of life into my nostrils (Gen 2:7), I just sat there and breathed in as much of him as I could, knowing the moment wouldn’t last forever. I continued to pray, knowing he heard me, knowing he was my rest (Mt. 11:28-30).
When the sound of my 2-year-old came over the baby monitor I was able to breathe out, not a sigh of reluctance (you know what I’m talking about), but a joyful sigh for I had been with God. I was ready for the day. I stood up, walked inside, and greeted my little boy with a fervor he has not known in quite some time. Praise God.
So what happened this morning? Though it sounds like it, it was not a Moses-in-the-cleft-of-the-rock kind of moment, it was really rather ordinary. All I did was wake up early, sit alone in my backyard, inhale in the presence of God, exhale out the peace of God, and then return to my daily life . No magic, no frills, no hyper-spirituality, just a half-awake guy taking his over-hurried and plenty-distracted mind to God, in prayer.
God does not want your life to be bogged down by tasks or filled with busyness. If you, like me, are working through the Fall and already wondering when you’ll be able to catch your breath, then this is your treatment plan. Consider Jesus for a moment and I think you’ll find his rhythmic participation in this same act quite compelling.
During Christ’s time on Earth, he had regular rhythms of retreat built into his everyday life (think Luke 4:42, 5:16; Mt. 14:13; Mark 14:32-42). While the design of these retreats were silence and solitude, the core purpose of these retreats was prayer. In retreating for prayer, Jesus was able to decompress from the chaos of life by rushing to the throne of grace, by basking in and breathing in the presence of his Father, by exhaling out the peaceful certainty of God's provision, and by then going back into the very chaos he left with fervor. The Son of God, the second person of the Trinity, took time to prioritize retreat, rest, and remembrance shouldn’t we?
In one month (11/15 - 11/16), I am inviting the men of Mosaic to interrupt their calendars and actively participate in these rhythms of Christ. Brothers, join me at our first ever Basecamp and retreat into the woods for an extended time of solitude, prayer, worship, and fellowship. We will stay overnight at Lake Ray Roberts to reorient the compass needle of our hearts and reset our souls by fixing our thoughts on Jesus (Heb 3:1).
Sisters, some of you are wondering why the whole church is receiving a men’s email, so let me address that. As brothers and sisters who are united in Christ, that which benefits one, benefits us all (Rom 12; 1 Cor 12; Eph 4). Would you consider encouraging or sending a brother in Christ to Basecamp knowing that it will make us all better, in Christ.
Before I go, I want to double down on the final component of the rhythm of retreat. As an avid outdoorsman, I often feel that pull to buy a one-way ticket, leave the concrete jungle behind, and head for the mountains with no timeline. But as strong as that pull may be, I am not convinced it is faithful. The 20th century Scottish pastor, Oswald Chambers, has a famous quote that really brings home this idea, “We are not made for the mountains, for sunrises, or for the other beautiful attractions in life - those are simply intended to be moments of inspiration. We are made for the valley and the ordinary things of life and that is where we have to prove our stamina and strength.”
For His Glory and our good,
Finn Foster
