About 45 years ago, I was given the rare opportunity to study with a group of fellow aspiring doctoral candidates in a unique way. We were given permission by a brotherhood of monks to live and participate at the monastery just outside of Conyers, Georgia. I remember that it was like stepping back in time to an age when there were places of refuge apart from a world of chaos and violence, where a man could live with the hope that God would approve of those who had given up the madness of conquest for a moment of reverence. Before we get any ideas that these guys walk around in tattered robes, mumbling in Latin and eat hard bread and a bowl of mush every day, we've got another think coming.

They are known for making cheese, wine, honey, preserves, textiles and some of the best baked stuff you have ever eaten. These goods and goodies are sold to the public to help sustain the monastery, which is very large and very beautiful. If you have the time, go online and you will be amazed at the size and extraordinary things to see.

What struck me about the retreat process was that for a brief moment in time, I was in another world. It was an academic center, that was for certain, because we were all required to experience a time of spiritual renewal away from telephones, television and even family. Getting away from electronic distractions was just fine, but not having my family around was another story. I missed Julie and wanted to see my kids fighting with one another, playing and just messing around.

The first day was mostly about the rules and regulations and the dos and don'ts of living in around men who had made a conscious decision to live a life of work and prayer. We were to respect their choice of clothing, food, limited conversation and the right to absolute privacy. We were not there to study them. We were there — in a limited way — as an alternative to the expectations of a world filled with noise, demand and constant interruption. By the way, this is not to be confused with running away.

The meals were something else. We always had a very heavy lunch and were served something I liked to refer to as, "Monk's Surprise." Three or four hours later, I got the surprise. You figure out what it was.

My only complaint about these monks was the fact that they were up around 4 o'clock in the morning for prayer and they would walk by our windows singing and laughing as they prepared for a new day. On the last morning, a couple of us decided we could get even by singing a rendition of, "There's Nothing Like a Dame" from the Broadway musical "South Pacific." The monks thought it was a hoot.

The most important outcome of the retreat taught us one memorable lesson. Everyone — and I mean everyone — needs time for some rest and recreation. 

We all need a moment away from this hectic world. Most importantly, we need time for God. It is as though the world demands so much of our energy and effort that we fall into our beds exhausted and hoping our night will be enough to recharge our batteries and give us enough strength to meet one more day.

God may not need prayer, but we do. God may not suffer from a lack of worship, but we will. God may not need the privacy of a quiet room to reflect on the questions that go on and on without answers, but we do.

Why not take some time tonight, alone, in the privacy of your backyard, shed, reading room, and speak to God? He always has the time to listen, and you might be surprised about what He has to say. It will be okay. It truly will.

Thanks, God!