My husband navigated our minivan down the long winding road that led away from the monastery. Our hearts and souls were filled with joyful peace from our time of prayer, and our shopping bag was filled with delicious treats that we purchased from the monks.
Suddenly, as we drove into town, our gaze was hit by the chaos of culture: noisy cars, marijuana dispensaries, and billboards that cluttered the wide Oklahoma sky.
"The monks aren't really missing much," I mused.
Earlier that day, we had knelt in the dark immensity of the abbey's upper church. Amidst the flickers of candlelight, monks in flowing robes had filed into the church. I was filled with an overwhelming sense that I had stepped back in time. The monks soon filled the air with chanting, and as I joined my own silent prayers to the Latin chants of the monks, I thought about how small my problems really were. Yes, whatever problems and challenges I was undergoing were valid, but in the grand scheme of things, were they really that big of a deal? The cares and concerns of my daily life melted into the great stillness and peace of this monastery.
That day at the monastery offered a chance for prayer and relaxation as a family as we hiked across the grounds, prayed in the church, and looked at the sheep and cows that grazed nearby. Yet, while our monastic outing was a good opportunity for prayer and contemplation, it also provided a good way to gain perspective. All of the stresses in my life and the culture seemed so small when I thought about them from the distance of the monastery. The choir stalls were filled with young monks, old monks, and young men who are discerning vocations to monastic life. These men spend their lives in contemplative prayer and work, offering life-giving hospitality to all who approach. Their lives are centered wholly and completely on God as they actively prepare for eternal life.