I can't seem to get the hang of retreats.
Basic recipe: laugh, listen, pray, take notes, fellowship, talk to God.
I can do most of that, no problem. But in the midst of such strong fellowship, in the center of Biblical learning, surrounded by stories of God's grace and truth is where I lose sight of God.
It seems to happen every time.
At home, I can sit on my bed with my Bible on my lap and pray God's grace over my family, my friends, my tomorrow, my sins and never lose that sense of communication. But then when I'm surrounded by people who lovingly expect me to be so strong spiritually my faith gets lost in the shuffle. I know God's there. I know he hears me when we're singing our worship, when we're hiking on faith, or when we're serving with his love. I know God is listening when we're praying, that the Holy Spirit is interpreting when we're learning, that he's inspiring the teachers.
But my heart wonders, and feels empty.
And so my mind begins to wonder.
Colorado was great! We went hiking three mornings, and got to see the sunrise over the hills in the east from the top of Red Mountain. The puns they put on the kitchen walls every lunch were hilarious! We'd sit and laugh about them through our meal. Pikes peak united us in fascinated misery as we hiked 8 oxygen-deprived miles to the most breathtaking view in Colorado. We were encouraged to chat amongst ourselves before and after lectures, and by the end of two weeks, everybody had met everybody, I believe.
But I still felt alone. Until they brought David into the last Foundation session, the last morning.
"Does doubting mean you've lost faith?" Our speaker searched our faces, letting the question settle into us.
"Divide into your small groups and read Psalm 42."
In Psalm 42, David is in agony. He reveals his very soul as downcast, says his tears have been his food. And in the next breath he tells himself "Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God." (Psalm 42:5b)
He doubts, and he cries out. But he will praise still.
He questions, but he reminds himself that the One he questions is faithful.
He is downcast and disturbed, yet he will praise.
"Alright. Who wants to answer the question? What did you find as you studied this in your groups?"
"Um...What was the question?" Nolan asked quickly. His group chuckled, embarrassed, and gave him the answer quietly.
"Oh! Ok," Nolan recovered nonchalantly. "Well-"
But I've already tuned out. I realized I'm wasn't losing faith. I hadn't lost track of God through all the noise of the camp. Even through the pain of wondering where God has gone, we can worship and fellowship and trust, and praise.
And God is there.
