Retreat 1

So, this lenten blog thing is difficult to maintain with a crazy life. I have still been thinking about where I see God every day, but getting it into a blog is much more difficult. After my retreat I was exhausted and unable to formulate sentences. It took me a good two or three days to recover in sleep and then to process what I had been through took a fair amount of time as well. Then this past weekend I went on another retreat with high schoolers. I have been busy that's for sure. Now that a significant amount of time has passed I want to share with you my revelations and insights from the Banquet retreat that I went on.


I struggled a lot on this retreat because we were not to be in contact with the outside world. The purpose was to get away for the weekend and focus on God. While I was away the world kept moving without me and I felt helpless inside. I struggled with the idea that now my life will not be lived on my terms, but on God's terms. I was on this retreat because I was meant to be there and I had a purpose there. My purpose was to serve there as best as I could and while doing that I was sacrificing my life outside of this retreat. My friends needed me and I couldn't rush to their side because I was on this retreat. My priorities are shifting and it is proving to be a painful process. My friends and family are still a priority, however they are not my top priority. My first priority is to follow wherever God leads me. 


This has been a tricky thing to figure out, but as I move closer to God I realize where I am going, and it is often not in the same direction as my friends. I know that my first priority should've always been God, but now it has been taken to a whole new level. I was at this retreat instead of by my friend's side. There is a harsh reality to the fact that other people, who I do not know, need me more than my friends. Part of this may be a result of getting older, but last weekend I was overwhelmed with the burden of my call. I am frustrated with the sacrifices I have to make. God does not want a sliver of my being, God wants all of me. Giving my whole self to God is much harder than just saying it. I don't always like what God asks me to do, but those who know me know that if I don't like something, I will generally let you know, then do it anyway. 


I also had an interesting revelation about Christ. In full disclosure Christology was fairly low on my theological spectrum.  I never really understood the importance of having a relationship with Christ. I feel like God and I talk all the time and I feel the Holy Spirit moving within the world, but I didn't know where Christ fit into the Trinity of my every day life. On this retreat I began to understand that Jesus is someone who understands my current difficulty with living into God's call because he lived through the same thing. I hate how cliche it sounds to say this but I began to look at Jesus like a friend. Jesus has struggled with many of the same issues I do because he was human and dealt the same human emotions that I do. I now see Jesus as someone who is with me on my journey and can help me when my humanity gets the best of me. It seems small but it was interesting revelation nonetheless. 


Finally, I also realized that my spiritual growth will forever be obstructed by my theological education. The more I learn about the Bible and God the more critical I become and my faith remains in my head. I was on a spiritual retreat that was meant to be an awakening, but all I could do is analyze what was happening and over analyzing everything. My head is keeping my heart from feeling and that is difficult to change. I am being taught how to think critically about my faith and wrestle with the complexities of God. However, in doing so I believe that I've lost a bit of the emotional connection with God that I had before I came to seminary. Faith is not in your head but in your heart and as I go forward in my ministry I hope to find the balance between the two. I think about God all the time, but I would like to feel God more in my life.