For the last 11 years I have grown to cherish my commitment to an annual silent weekend retreat. But, I wasn’t always crazy about going.
My first exposure to the silence made my skin crawl. My first conference had a three-hour Friday night mini silent retreat component. But now I believe the retreats are saving my life.
Without exception, in the silence the Holy Spirit gives me a truth, I was blind to, about myself and my behavior. I leave renewed with tools and the strength for a course correction.
What’s the big deal?
Think of it like a spiritual chiropractic adjustment.
Once to save money, I tried to extend the time between getting a chiropractic adjustment for my elevated hip. By the sixth month I woke up in so much pain in my hip and low back that I could hardly get out of bed. I ended up crawling back to Dr. Spoonhour for relief, paying for extra sessions to get everything back into alignment.
But spiritual neglect can have worse effects, which is why you might lose a hand, or other body part, if you try to keep me from my annual renewal.
Ignatius Retreats take the participants from a series of structured meditations. Several of the early ones being around sin. The priest had us meditate on our own attachments to our sins. He directed us to explore if we had create idols—people, places, and things— in our life that we put above God.
It smacked me in the face from out of the blue. I was guilty of idolizing my business.
It certainly was understandable. This has been an intense year. My dad passed away this summer suddenly. We shared a mental health practice, including the bills. So, in addition to grieving I was scurrying into serious action to make the numbers work with the therapy practice, on top of keeping my focus with the growing coaching business.
Okay, we all have challenges where we have to turn up the heat at work. That doesn’t necessary mean we are making our businesses idols.
Here are the clues that I was worshiping the fatted calf of my own entrepreneurial enterprise: