Tonight I am out camping with my two sons. This was not a highly organised and skillfully planned trip. In fact, I left home without my flashlight and all of the firewood is too wet to get something going with the small fire starters I brought with me.
Still, just now, this is a roaring success. My two sons, prior to going to sleep, are having a great time. The camp site is so wide open they don’t really know what to do with themselves. They have not ventured more than twenty or thirty feet from me yet. Of course, the oldest is four and the youngest is nearly two so I am sure their daring will increase.
Why did I do this to myself? Apart from my own love of camping and being outdoors, I was simply depressed. Not the give-me-a-pill-now kind of depressed. Today was just a hard day that began poorly and wasn’t showing signs of improving. The pressures of a few things in life were mounting up. Why not just run away for a while?
I am now wondering, as I sit and listen to my boys breathing along with the wind slipping through the tree branches, if Jesus went away to solitary places because He just got stressed out and maybe even depressed.
He knew genuine opposition.
His friends did not always support Him.
His family thought He was loony.
His mission was to save the world.
These things might have been stressful. Perhaps the Kingdom of God advances in our lives partly through these little retreats where we go to pray and to find the strength and courage to get back in the fight.