Cultivating Kingdom Dreams: Reflections from a Silent Retreat

Embarking on this adventure of establishing Good Neighbor Network has compelled me to rekindle intimacy with Jesus in a really beautiful way. I've been reflecting a lot on cultivating spiritual disciplines and forming a "Rule of life" both for myself and the microchurch I lead, Cultivate. When we think about spiritual practices, I've heard and found it useful to think of Upstream and Downstream practices. Some will be quite natural for us to observe and therefore will be pleasant and easy; these are the downstream practices, while others feel unnatural and difficult and therefore unpleasant. I am definitely a Naturalist when it comes to spending time with God. I love being outside. However, when it comes to the practice of Solitude, I struggle. I struggle with stillness and silence; however, I find myself longing for both these days, so I recently went on a Silent Retreat at the St. Francis Retreat Center in Dewitt, MI. I didn't have much of an agenda other than to spend time in prayer, asking God to reveal what my heart needed to know about what He was doing in and through my leadership and GNN. There are many things I could share about this weekend, but I will focus on what I believe was the primary message God had for me, and he did so through a tree, a Northern Catalpa.

Northern Catalpa flowers

The botanical name of the Northern Catalpa is Catalpa Speciosa, Catalpa from Muskogee words meaning Winged Head, and Speciosa, a Latin word, which in the world of botany, means Showy. It's a fitting name for such a gorgeous tree. When the flowers are pollinated, they grow into these long pods with dozens of seeds with fuzzy little wings.

I went on a hike on the 95-acre property through the woods and was drawn to the flowers. I immediately wondered how I could propagate it back home, but didn't notice any obvious seeds, so I started doing a little research on propagation methods. I planned to take a cutting of the tree the next morning before I went home.

The pods contain dozens of winged seeds

The next day I walked down to a picnic table I had sat at to read and pray at several times that weekend, only this time I noticed that one of the trees the table sat under was in fact a large and mature Northern Catalpa, covered with flowers and with hundreds of pods dangling from its branches. I laughed at myself that I hadn't slowed down enough to really notice this. Sometimes I think we get so excited with our ideas, plans, and agendas that we fail to have eyes to see what God wants us to see. I managed to jump and reach a few of the pods and opened them up to find these beautiful winged seeds, which I packed in a tiny little bag I had in my backpack.

As I sat at the table, journaling about what had just happened, I glanced at a familiar piece of plastic in the grass under the tree that I had seen yesterday but neglected to pick up. Upon investigation, I discovered it was another little plastic baggie only a little larger than the first with a little ventilation hole poked into it. It was as if God was inviting me to gather even more seeds. The problem was that no matter how high I leaped, I couldn't reach any more pods. Only when I looked down did I notice the hundreds of husks scattered beneath the tree. I wondered if there might be any seeds remaining in them and was pleased to discover lots of seeds left clinging to the inside. I filled the second bag up and wept with joy at what God had just taught me.

The Winged Seeds found inside the pods

As I reflected on the experience in my journal, several themes kept surfacing. Looking back, I think these were the lessons God was inviting me to receive.

1. My pace of life has not been compatible with the contemplative life.

2. I am often too quick to make a plan to propagate something beautiful without first taking the time to know it for itself and understand how God designed it to be propagated.

3. I am often too busy looking up to receive a revelation from God that I fail to see His presence right beneath my feet.

4. If the seeds are metaphors for Kingdom dreams God's people have, how many dreams are out there that have failed to catch the wind and are left attached to the husk to rot and wither on the ground?

5. Maybe this is a metaphor for the work God is calling GNN to do: to seek out the forgotten or discarded Kingdom dreams of our neighbors and, like in the parable of the barren fig tree, we need to intentionally cultivate these dormant dreams, giving them a renewed chance to bear good fruit.

6. I've come to learn that all these pods and seeds are actually last year's growth. The pods hang on the tree throughout the winter, which conditions them to be released in the spring when germination is optimal. Some dreams need to lay dormant for a while, to be conditioned by the winter's chill until the Spring winds carry them to sow new life and beauty in a new place.

I've since planted several of these seeds in our greenhouse; so far, of the nine I planted, only two have sprouted. As of now, GNN consists of two microchurches; this is not lost on me. Not all dreams fall on good soil. Not all dreams live on. But we are called to plant nonetheless, trusting God to germinate the seeds He chooses. He produces the growth, not us. “You reap what you sow” (Galatians 6:7).

One of the first two seedlings

“Every moment and every event of every man’s life on earth plants something in his soul. For just as the wind carries thousands of winged seeds so each moment brings with it germs of spiritual vitality that come to rest imperceptibly in the minds and wills of men. Most of these unnumbered seeds perish and are lost, because men are not prepared to receive them: for such seeds as these cannot spring up anywhere except in the good soil of freedom, spontaneity, and love.”―Thomas Merton