Quiet Time, the Ironic Psalm, and the Peacock

I'm taking a class this quarter at Fuller which examines the spirituality of Christian author Henri Nouwen. One of the assignments for this class was to engage in an individual half-day spiritual retreat. I decided to take advantage of one of our local botanical wonders: the Los Angeles County Arboretum. (It's a fantastic place, and not JUST because it's the location of the Fantasy Island House.)

One of the surprising lessons I learned from this assignment did not occur during my actual time during the retreat, but the days and hours leading up to it. Although my schedule for this quarter is more open than other quarters, I had the hardest time committing to a particular day to have my retreat. Even when the morning that I had finally chosen had come, I found myself making excuses and creating reasons why I should postpone yet again. When I finally got around to leaving the house to drive to the Arboretum, I spent some time in the car trying to analyze the reason for wanting to continually put this assignment off. I came to the conclusion that it was connected to a general struggle I’ve had for several months, where I have had little discipline in spending quality time alone with God. My personal devotional life and prayer life has been pretty lousy as of late, and I think that part of me was terrified of the idea of an entire morning committed to meditation and prayer!

As I pulled into the parking lot at the Arboretum, I began feeling very convicted and even guilty. It was then that the thought—or more likely, the Spirit—came to me: “Behold, I make all things new.” It seemed to go hand in hand with so much of what I’ve learned about Henri Nouwen this quarter: although fully engaged in ministry, he was also fully aware of his failings and brokenness. I sat in the car for several minutes, praying that God would give me the focus and courage to make the best of this morning, and guilt was soon replaced with hope.

Once I entered the Arboretum, I found a quiet area next to a stream and sat on a bench, where I spent most of the morning. At one point, I decided to open my Bible to a random passage, and found Psalm 106, which told of God’s love towards the Israelites; despite their continual failings and disregard for God, He ultimately continued to listen to their cries for help. (How appropriate!) I then spent time considering the journey God has taken me in the last three or four years in particular, as my ministry at church has grown in responsibility, as well as my time in seminary since the fall of 2005. I also took some pictures of the beautiful scenery around my bench, marveling at God’s creation and spending time in personal worship and praise.

I finished the morning doing some praying for guidance and strength of commitment as I slowly walked the grounds of the Arboretum. As I was finishing my silent prayer, one of the many peacocks that inhabit the area approached me. Just as I walked passed it, I turned to see that it had unfurled its feathers to display its legendary beauty. For me, it was an unexpected parable of how God knows us so well and reveals Himself not only in His time, but also at times when we are best receptive to the particular message He has for us. On this day, I was a better listener to hear about how God forgives and continues to desire to show Himself to us. I thank the peacock for being the means to realize such a great truth about our great God.