Come Away

I could hardly believe it when 11:00 AM rolled around last Saturday and I was actually done with the amount of homework I scheduled for the day. Such grace allowed me to do something that I normally don't get to do on Saturdays - I took a break from homeworking and joined a group of students on a trip to Little Rock to volunteer for PATH (Partners Against Trafficking Humans).

PATH is working on opening a new shelter, and our small team helped them prep the building and grounds. At the end of the day, we built a big bonfire with the brush we cleared. We watched the sun set and the stars come out, and we sat around and watched the fire blaze down to the glowing orange coals.

As I sat on the grass and felt the warmth heating my face, my thoughts were slow and meditative instead of fleeting and rushed like they normally are. I wasn't thinking about what I needed to do next. I didn't feel like I had to get up and start working on to the next item on my to-do list. And it felt so good. I couldn't remember the last time that I hadn't rushed from one event right to the next.

I originally didn't know any of the other people that I had worked with that day, but serving together and then standing around a fire together created a camaraderie - a form of beautiful fellowship. I have found that it doesn't take long for camp fire conversations to turn spiritual, and this evening was no exception.

Later that night, when my soul was so at peace, I realized that I need more moments like those - moments of stillness, slowness of time, and thoughtful meditation.

The following morning, I read in Numbers about how God ordained Sabbath days of rest (and even week long festivals of rest) for His people, calling them to "deny themselves and do no work". Oh, how we have lost this art, this spiritual discipline, of rest.

Later that evening at a Bible study, we read Mark 6 where Jesus said to his disciples, "Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest." In that same chapter, Jesus went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. I was beginning to see a pattern.

Finally, Monday night at Sanctuary (a weekly worship gathering), we sang "Set a Fire", and I  felt the words coming out of my heart as we sang,

There's no place I'd rather be,
There's no place I'd rather be,
There's no place I'd rather be,
than here in your love,
here in your love.

And I closed my mind and I thought back to the campfire when we sang,

Light a fire down in my soul
that I can't contain,
that I can't control.
I want more of you, God.
I want more of you, God.

This week, I am trying something new, and I invite you to join me in practicing the spiritual discipline of stillness. We need to intentionally set aside time to rest with the Lord. It may come easy for you, but if you are like me, then you may have to really take God's words seriously when he says, "Deny yourself and do no work".

What does such a time of stillness look like for you? Will it be spontaneous or planned? Will you invite others to come away with you, or will you rest by yourself? How much of a sacrifice will you have to make?

I am already planning on spreading out a picnic blanket on the front lawn and inviting some friends to come away and rest with me and Jesus. Or maybe I will hang my hammock in a quiet place by myself. I would like to find a nearby mountaintop nearby where I can get away and pray like Jesus did. And then I remember that a group of my friends has planned a Pinnacle mountain climb in Little Rock this weekend. Perfect.

For there's no place like sitting quietly in the love of God. There's no place I'd rather be.