Vacation. What has happened?  Has this word lost its health?

There used to be a time when we made plans for leaving cares at home to find some scenic hideaway for refreshing the soul, a “vacation.” Now it seems more like a spending spree—seeing and doing as much as possible in a few days.

You have only to pull onto the highway to get a sense of this—judging from the speed, and our set jaws. Anonymous road pals sporting license plates of various colors as people shift from state to state, passing others who surge on to replace their space. Musical states, as the game goes . . . San Diego—LHC—Grand Canyon—Sedona—the Utah parks—Las Vegas—San Diego in eight days!

All this is fine. But, what of that idyllic setting with time just for resting the body and mind? Time to eat corn on the cob and barbecued beef without standing in line?

It takes some creative thinking to find respite for the soul. For me this happened at Nazareth Retreat Center[1] near our hometown in Boise, Idaho. There, quiescence and solitude can hardly be matched. Eight days were spent listening to God, to self (sorting out inner “voices”), walking with reverence and holy contemplation. As I sauntered the grounds, it felt like I was leafing through the pages of nature’s textbook.

There was time to observe a caterpillar, while he rolled onto a stick allowing me to examine multiple suction cups which keep him humping. Time to reflect some on the aspects of his belly-dragging experience. Soon he (maybe it was a she) would follow inner urgings, choose to leave behind all that was known to spin himself into a chrysalis. Loss of much comes in answering that silent call—yet as we know, a glorious new existence results.

It is not hard to draw a parallel between the inner call of the caterpillar and that of God to us: His bidding to die to our preconceived ideas of happiness in an act of faith, trusting Him to lead us into Life—something far greater than succumbing to our own tantalizing desires. The light of insight brightened the cocoon of my existence that day while watching this tiny walking witness.

Later, while sitting by the pond, I observed a family of ducks. (Nonchalant teachers, these feathered friends.) Mother and father duck were busy raising their family of six. No longer babies, the ducklings looked more like “teenagers.” Five of them spent their time confidently paddling about the water’s edge, as far from their parents as possible. One was different. Constantly hugging his mother’s side, he was frantic at times when she moved too fast. Emitting a frequent, awkward squeak, he ever reminded her of his presence.

Through the week “mom” tried persistently to get her fledgling to duck his head under water in search for food. Things looked bleak as the youngster opted to ignore her efforts, yet always an air of confidence possessed Mother Duck. Occasionally, she would transfer a worm from her mouth to his to keep him going. No pecking rejection of this malingerer. No fearful squawking to bring him in line with the others. Only a portrayed confidence that time would take care of everything.

I thought of the admonitions we humans sometimes use with our children due to our own fears and anxieties. And of how healing it is for any one of us when another believes in us, even at those times when we are not “coming through” as some may think we should. What a service we have to offer one another by dying to resentments, expectations, judgments and criticisms, giving instead unconditional, constant love. Our faith.

With children returning to classrooms and the summer heat abating, let’s embrace the truth that “all” of life is about learning. It simply takes time to listen and to read the signs. Throughout the calendar year, the doors of many retreat centers throughout the US and other countries are open, waiting . . . places to quiet one’s heart, slow the pace and temporarily vacate the complexity of the modern race. For some, this must be done at home. This can be, but it takes specific planning. Some of us seek out daily retreats, early morning—or in the evening time.

Out of the stillness of listening, God does speak; new perspectives are gained and the truth of Ezekiel 36:26 is experienced, “I will give you a new heart and place a new spirit within you . . .”

How about that for a transplant?

[1] Unfortunately, this retreat center was “repurposed in June, 2021.” It is now a monastery. Retreat centers can be found at https://findthedivine.com/