Devotion by Rollie Johnson - The rolling, undulating prairie was dressed for autumn. The landscape needed no consulting fashionista to dress itself in appropriately seasoned fall earth-tones. Auburn, rust, mauve, beige, ochre, amber and coffee shades checker-boarded the landscape. CRP, cattail slews, cottonwood groves, corn fields all cross-hatched the country side bringing a pleasing taste to my visual senses. And my favorite of all was where the baby blue sky met with the soft tan of cut wheat fields.; a holy and agreeable intersection of fall light and plains color. This was the scene for the long 6 hour drive for our fall mens retreat to the badlands north of Killdeer, ND. We were a rag-tag, oddball bunch of guys. Out of hundreds invited, only these 7 responded with a yes. Not really what I was hoping for, as I prefer to have 40, or 60 or a 100 guys, but guys are generally just too busy; football games, soccer tournaments for the kids, working overtime, hunting trips, lawns to mow, leaves to rake, cabins to shut down in addition to the usual; its not my cup of tea. really not my thing , I really dont do that camping/cabin/retreat/ Kum ba Ya/hold hands and hug thing. etc. etc. etc... Our two cozy log cabins were perched just below the edge of the rim overlooking the deep and wide badlands terrain of the Little Missouri River. From our cabins porch the rugged hills and coulees extended far to the horizon and were dappled with purples, pinks, ochers and greys of the horizontally striated badlands. Groves of yellowed aspen and cottonwood accented the dark green stands of juniper and pine. The sweet pleasing scent of oak logs burning permeated the air from our center campfire ring. Our days were light on agenda, big on choices. Hearty and delicious meals were the constant. A long hike down a narrow ridgeline and up the adjacent mist covered valley. A visit to the Lynch Ranch flint quarries gave us the behind the scenes private tour as we touched and held objects crafted by our Native American forefathers some as much as 10,000 years old. We played with fire; learning to birth fire with the primitive bow drill fire method until our arms turned to jelly and our breath gave out. A side trip with a long hike up to the top of Medicine Hole, where the sun poked out and we could see to the vast horizons some 20 miles away. Long views seem to open up my head and more importantly my soul. A quiet time occurred spontaneously with each man heading off alone to sit on an outcropping to spend some one on one time his thoughts and conversation with Jesus. Sore butts, knees and hips were handed out to each of us pretend suburban cowboys after our scenic horseback ride. A spontaneous game of football, a team crossword puzzle, and piles of conversation sitting round the campfire circle. The reasons we retreat are varied and many; stepping of the merry-go-round, removing ourselves from the rat race and technology, reconnecting with nature and creation, journaling, thinking, praying, emptying, disconnecting from our usual to be fed the unusual, discussing and digesting, sharing of doubts, struggles and triumphs. As our weekend progressed it became very obvious that the Holy Spirit was being poured out in, amongst and around us. For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them. (Matthew 18:19-21) His presence was palpable. Its funny what happens when you give guys time ... time to drop the façade, quit being posers, imposters, or trying to impress, and just simply be. One man declared; The burning flames of my cynicism and doubt were doused by the holy water of fellowship and honesty around the circle of the campfire. Another guy reflected near the end; I feel like after this weekend, Im finally back...in the game of life. Sometimes we need to go away to better understand where we are, who we are and whose we are. May you have the courage to say yes to a new experience that may strengthen, and deepen your relationship with Christ and others. Rollie J.
Posted on: Wed, 23 Oct 2013 13:28:20 +0000
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