It was better than a fishing trip together–and that is saying something.
My ten-year-old boy, Zeb, and I spent several days this week at the Monastery of the Ascension retreat house–a true Idaho treasure.

Our primary take-aways:

1. Kitchen work was accomplished quickly and efficiently. The monks go about their chores without complaining and without arguing. Lesson: When everyone pitches in and does their part, the work is not burdensome.

2. Rush and hurry come from being driven…peace comes from being called. Lesson: Slow down, pay attention to your call, and turn your back on the voices that demand your immediate attention. Seek first the Kingdom of God and everything else will work out just fine.

3. Life at the monastery revolves around set times for prayer. Lesson: Don’t try to squeeze time for prayer into your life; schedule your life around prayer. Nothing is more valuable and more powerful than prayer and meditation.

The last two lessons, especially, I hope never to forget. Zeb and I ordered a copy of Christian Prayer : The Liturgy of the Hours and have set up our own plan for joining in prayer with the Church.

At work (where I am called–not where I am driven), I have access to the Universalis site, where I can keep up with the prayer cycle on breaks. The attitude is crucial, it seems to me: I am not a worker finding time for prayer–but a man of prayer who also works.

Nothing Zeb and I have ever done–not even our fishing trip to Oregon two springs ago–has helped more to tighten our bond and open up dialogue between us than the trip to the monastery. We both look forward to a return trip soon.

How to locate a monastery or retreat center

Would you like to find a place to get closer to your children–or your spouse? Try a monastery. This link can help you find one: Retreat Finder.

May His love bless and keep you and yours on the journey.

My friend passed on to the other side yesterday. Way too young: 37 years old–leaving children behind, heartbroken parents, and a future with every possibility.

I call him my friend–and he was my friend–but our relationship was based on business. Oh, we would inquire about family–maybe share a story of something special that had happened in our lives–but business demanded that we stick to the task at hand. We were busy. Real busy. No time for chit-chat.

We met for discussion the day before he died. Maybe I could tell there was something a little off with him. Maybe. I’ve gone back over that meeting a hundred times in my mind. I wanted to inquire deeper, to go further on a personal basis than our business relationship allowed. But I didn’t. I held back. I didn’t want to offend him, or to come off as being nosey. We parted with our customary “Thank you,” to one another “see you soon.”

Friday morning came the news: He is dead. He is gone.

I went to his office. His normally open door was closed. No one there. I slipped a note underneath, “May His arms hold you . . .  Shalom.” And I promised myself that I would never, ever let business stand in the way of my compassion and concern for another human being again. Never.

Some things are more important than business. The world is concerned about the global economy, when what we really need to be concerned with is loving one another. If we did that, just that one thing . . . the world’s economy would take care of itself.

If I could speak all the languages of earth and of angels, but didn’t love others, I would only be a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.

If I had the gift of prophecy, and if I understood all of God’s secret plans and possessed all knowledge, and if I had such faith that I could move mountains, but didn’t love others, I would be nothing.

If I gave everything I have to the poor and even sacrificed my body, I could boast about it; but if I didn’t love others, I would have gained nothing (1 Corinthians 13: 1-3)