So, here’s the thing – sometimes the best of contemplative intentions turn out to be frenetic activity. That’s not cool.
We had an amazing retreat last weekend at Women of Hope. It really was a perfect blend of work, and worship, and work AS worship, and worship AS work. It was a sweet time and left me very encouraged, albeit tired, but in a good way. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, I am, of all people, so blessed because the people I work with are incredible humans and fun to do life with.
So, we came off of the retreat, with a lot of energy and excitement about plans the Lord has crystallized, and anticipation of the celebrations coming up with our 10th anniversary of Women of Hope, and a new brand and look for the ministry, and awed by what God has done over the past year through our small but mighty team, empowered by His Spirit. And then we started our work week and it was full of crises – Zimbabwe blowing up with tension, creating much stress for Jackie and all of us who love her, crisis in Sierra Leone that consumed inordinate amounts of time, staffing issues, and a lot of fires to put out. It was a full week, and we had decided to close the office on Friday (today) since we all worked on Saturday. I was looking forward to a nice long weekend, time with my daughter before she heads back to school, and some quiet time for reflection, silence and contemplation. My plan for this morning was to get up, have a nice warm shower while reflecting with Pray As You Go (which is my normal daily rhythm), write this email, spend an hour or two in silence and reflective reading (in prep for my next Transforming Community retreat next weekend) and go get a pedicure with my daughter.
Yeah.
I woke up to various text messages and WhatsApp messages (which are the bain of my existence, and only if you live or work in Africa can you understand why…), spent a frustrating hour in text conversation with a ministry partner in Africa trying to plan an upcoming training, had a Skype call with a colleague in Sierra Leone about some of the aforementioned staffing issues, another Skype call with a staff member in Sierra Leone about the aforementioned crisis, and here it is almost 11:00 and there hasn’t been a moment of silence or contemplation. And I’m feeling frustrated about that.
So, what to do? This is not a one-off occurrence! What do you do when “life” interrupts your contemplative plans? Well, I’ve pondered that a bit, and I’ll share my thoughts here, in hopes that it might help you, and also so I can go back and read them next time (like tomorrow??). So, a few things I’m thinking about.
- I feel like it is an oxymoron, but times of silence and reflection need to be scheduled. Like really scheduled. Scheduled like a meeting with a high-level donor that cannot be altered by even a minute, and everything else bows to that appointment. And that makes sense – it IS a meeting with a high-level Donor that shouldn’t get moved. And so much more than that. So, put it on the schedule, and be ok with scheduling something that seems like it should be spontaneous, and let everything else bow to it.
- Don’t pick up the phone in the morning before the reflection time is done. It’s a black hole. Just don’t. (This is a bit of a problem when some of the very things that actually assist my contemplative practice are located on my phone – the PAYG app, Dwell, Calm, my gratitude journal, etc. So sometimes things get a bit mixed up…)
- When the stuff of life runs away with your calm, intentionally recenter. Be like Jesus in the boat in the storm. “Why are you so distressed by these winds and waves?? You have the Creator of the Universe IN. YOUR. BOAT!” Ask Him to still the waves. Make yourself sit down and breathe deeply of His life-giving breath. Use a breath prayer. Shut everything off. Just be. (I’m talking to myself in the 2nd person here – you can just listen in as you wish.)
- Take what you can get. While there is GREAT value in taking longer times of silence and reflection, sometimes life doesn’t allow that. What you intended to be an hour of silence, reflection, contemplation, and reading might turn out to be 15 minutes. Take it. It’s still good. That happened a lot to Jesus also.
- Use the unintended moments to be centered on Jesus – a drive to the store by yourself, a shower, on hold on the phone, waiting for a kettle to boil for tea – little moments throughout a busy day to tug on the anchor and realize it still holds.
Maybe you have other thoughts or practices that help when your intention of contemplation goes out the window. I’d love to hear them!
May your Anchor hold you,
Kim