Come away
The benefit and surprise of chasing silence and solitude
I “retreated” twice in October and I’m not mad about it.
Occasionally stepping out of the day-to-day flow of life is not new to me. I’ve taken a spiritual retreat alone or with others annually for several years. The practice of seeking silence and solitude provides a reset and a spiritual clarity that I find both refreshing and challenging.
Psalm 46: 10 tells us there is a kind of knowing that comes in silence and not in words — but first we must be still. The Hebrew word translated “Be still” literally means “Let go of your grip.”1 ― Ruth Haley Barton
The Hermitage 2 near Three Rivers is my favorite spot in all of southern Michigan. My spiritual director hosts a 48-hour spiritual retreat in this idyllic natural sanctuary each fall. No agenda, no expectations, just time for rest, reflection and communing with nature. Intermittent interaction with the other participants is dropped into the schedule through silent meals, a morning worship and a final gathering to share what we are taking away from the retreat. The rolling countryside at The Hermitage is familiar to me and the weather was perfect, so I spent most of my time on this first retreat wandering through the Brother Francis Wildlife Sanctuary, visiting the tiny stone chapel, walking the grassy hills and valleys and just sitting alone on a random bench or with others around a campfire.
As an introvert, I find comfort in stillness. In a way, slowing down, stepping out of the day-to-day for silence and solitude is nourishing to my soul and body. Yes, “a kind of knowing”.
So, the invitation to join a cohort of spiritual-directors-in-training for a second retreat later in the month at Lindenwood Retreat and Conference Center in central Indiana sounded wonderful.3 I had traveled with these people through a season of training as a director and it would be a reunion of sorts. In accepting the invitation to retreat I could be with people — but not BE with them. I could “let go of your (my) grip” on the need to please, to be seen and just be in the presence of God. Reading, praying, taking long walks, napping, sketching. I wanted that again, so I said “Yes! Count me in.”
The space I returned to most often during that long weekend was the sanctuary of the Ancilla Domini Chapel (above). Just standing in the aisle and gazing at the altar was centering. As I slid into a pew, I was transported back to my childhood and to the tiny Catholic chapel in my hometown. Blessed Sacrament Catholic Church met in a limestone building near the courthouse square in Albion, Indiana. That historic chapel no longer stands, but the memories of a devout little girl climbing the steps into the sanctuary endure.
When I was not in the chapel, in my room or settled into a comfy chair for journaling or reading in one of the common rooms, I was outdoors. Chilly early morning walks along the lakefront pathways or pausing to move through the labyrinth offered different, “civilized” opportunities to commune with nature.
Not every retreat offers the same physical experience, but every retreat I have taken has grown my awareness of God and of myself, and I enter back into my everyday world with a spirit that has been refreshed and renewed.
What are you reading?
The seasons of the liturgical calendar often dictate my reading choices, particularly Advent. I am currently walking through two very different “guidebooks” for the season. Both are new to me.
On the left is an invitation to “slow down, reflect and enter the season with wonder” written by Michigan pastor, naturalist and counselor Harold E. Kohn. The beautiful cover and the simplicity of the reflections drew me in. It will partner well with Pastor Alistair Begg’s equally beautiful and worshipful invitation to walk thru both the Old and New Testaments toward the “coming” of Christ. As I do every year, I chose these guides carefully and prayerfully with great anticipation for the joy of celebrating Advent. It is not too late to find your own guide through the remaining weeks of Advent. And, perhaps these will speak to you in preparation for the journey in 2026.
The movie Hamnet may not be everyone’s cup-of-tea
…but it is definitely mine. I read the novel by Maggie O’Farrell a year ago, however I wasn’t prepared for the intensity and beauty of the story on a big screen. I viewed this film with family in a Nashville, Tennessee theater over Thanksgiving and was a bit embarrassed by the number of tissues required to get through the final 10 minutes of the film. Sobs erupted here and there as the full-house audience lingered into the credit reel, no doubt to gain their composure and absorb the impact of the final scene. The raw beauty of the setting drew me in immediately, but the portrayals of the Shakespeare family were joyful and wrenching at the same time. Highly recommended!
Invitation to Solitude and Silence: Experiencing God’s Transforming Presence by Ruth Haley Barton