Religion Retreat Reflection

This past Tuesday, I embarked on a journey with my Grade 10 Religion class to a little camp called "Gestwood" on the outskirts of our town. It was pretty cool because I used to go there for summer camp and it brought back good memories. As part of the retreat, we were to end opening prayer with a completely silent nature walk in the forest; some alone time with just you and God. This was awesome! In all my years going to Catholic schools, I had never felt like I had ever actually connected with God until that day (Tuesday, May 6th, 2008). The next day in class we were asked to write a reflection on it, and here's what came out:

This call to be silent was a very good idea at a very appropriate time for me. In the relentless, "always doing something" phase that I'm going through, and the seemingly always melancholy attitudes displayed by many around me, and in turn affecting myself, such placidity was more than wonderful - it was sacred. Even though in this silence I did not discover all the answers to my future (which was the focus of the walk), the warm and benign touch of God quelled my soul until I was left feeling relaxed and serene, and totally connected to him.

I wanted to focus on what God required of me concerning my future, yet I was feeling called to turn my attention to something else. I have certain propensities to always keep myself busy, but this day, God wanted me to slow down. He wanted me to understand that even though I have various commitments to school work, church, music, and friend, he needs a commitment as well. He was teaching me that even though it seems like I have little time for myself, and adding personal time for him would only further fill my already packed schedule, it would surely be for my benefit, and I'm going to trust that. After all, I serve an infallible God.

God certainly has a formidable teaching method. He's often subtle in this method, yet I'm slowly but surely acquiring the knowledge to decode his enigmas... with his help, of course. I aspire to be able to fully trust him to the point of perfect acquiesence, yet I know I will often fall short. Luckily, my God is a merciful one and he knows I'm the furthest thing from perfect. He spoke to me in this silence, as he did to Elijah in the cave. I heard his voice in the birds and the rustling of the leaves. I felt his breath in the gentle breeze as I walked along the nature trail.

In a sense, this was the loudest silence I had ever experienced, even though that sounds somewhat asinine. No, I didn't hear an audible voice, and no, I didn't see a divine apparition of the Son of Man descending from Heaven. But I felt God and somehow I understood what he wanted of me. I need him, but he also has a desperate want for me. He feels sorrow for the times when I don't consult him in the midst of a storm or a crucial decision, or when I lay myself to sleep without speaking to him. I serve a God who desires to have a relationship with me, his child. I think from now on, I'm going to try harder. I'm going to make a conscious effort to speak to him and be with him. After all, this God died for me to live, and I can't even spend 5 minutes with him? Something's not right here.

TSharr
God Bless