reminder of the presence of Christ, and for one hour listen to the sounds of the night. Don't try to read or write. This is a time for silence, for stillness. Don't even try to pray in the normal sense of talking or articulating thoughts. Be quiet. Enter the Shalom of God. After the hour, return to bed and to sleep, remembering the words of Brother Lawrence; "those who have the gale of the Holy Spirit go forward even in sleep."

• Leave radio, TV, stereo, CD off while cleaning the house or basement or garage or working on a hobby.
View this time of quiet as a special gift from God during which you can listen for his whisperings.
—Richard J. Foster

GOING DEEPER

I rejoice in Wilderness Time. It is an invitation to retreat that truly invites. It welcomes me, entreats me, draws me into "the country of God's affections," as Emilie Griffin puts it.

It invites, first of all, because its author is writing from lived experience. She has taken retreat, not just once, or now and again, but as a firm pattern of life. And she does this out of the context of the busy, pressured life of an advertising executive, first in New York City and now in New Orleans.

Wilderness Time also invites because it is doable. No spiritual heroics here. It takes me by

the hand and shows me how I can actually integrate this way of living into my life and my schedule. It is not that it pampers my obsession with muchness and manyness. To the contrary. Ms. Griffin writes, "When there is no time to do it, that's when you most need to unclutter the calendar and go apart to pray. When the gridlock of your schedule relentlessly forbids it is the time you most need retreat."

Then, too, it invites by encouraging me to follow "the leading-strings of God's grace." I like that. Oh,there are plenty of practical suggestions here. It even gives guidance for one-day, three-day, and seven-day retreats. But regardless of how much we may plan our retreat—and there are generous planning ideas here—God is in charge of the retreat experience and we are not. This reality Emilie calls "God's improvisations." She writes, "You can never fully anticipate God's gifts to you in the retreat. . . . There is no way to orchestrate the black-eyed Susans growing wild in the path as you turn the corner with your Bible in hand."

And finally, it invites me because it calls me home. Home to peace and serenity and affirmation. Home to hope and friendship and openness. Home to acceptance and intimacy and joy. Home, home to God. It is as if buried deep in the human heart is a long-forgotten dream of "the beloved country" and Wilderness Time is calling me to remember once again. And so, I do. I urge you to buy, use, and wear out Wilderness Time.
—Richard J. Foster 23 October 1996
(Excerpted from the foreword to Wilderness Time.)