
The Art of the Retreat: When 'Forward' Means Stepping Back
Sometimes the most natural, instinctual response is to push forward, but true discipleship—and true safety—often requires the strength to take a deliberate step back.
There are moments in life, and certainly in the work, when our most natural, instinctual response is to push forward. We feel the urgency to reach the next milestone, to correct the misunderstanding, or to simply *get* to the other side of the cliff. It feels like the right, proactive thing to do.
Recently, I was reflecting on a powerful story shared by a friend—a story about a dream involving a dangerous cliff, a determined little daughter, and the sheer, terrifying urge to reach out and grab her. The instinct was always to move *toward* the danger, to secure what we love.
What resonated so deeply with me, as a fellow disciple who has seen the field from both sides—the excitement of the MTC and the quiet work of the assigned area—is the lesson embedded in that dream: sometimes, the most Christlike, most Spirit-guided action is to resist the immediate urge. It is to take a step back.
Agency, Trust, and the Power of the Retreat
The podcast episode we heard this week touched on agency—the incredible gift of choice given by Heavenly Father. In the dream, the father repeatedly fought his natural instinct to rush toward his daughter. He had to actively *choose* to step back, to resist the urge to grab her, and in doing so, she changed her trajectory. It was a moment of profound, counter-intuitive wisdom.
As we prepare for missionary discussions, or as we engage in the quiet, deep work of building Zion in our own neighborhoods, we face our own "cliffs." These cliffs aren't always physical; they can be doctrinal misunderstandings, emotional resistance, or simply the sheer difficulty of connecting with someone who is guarded.
Our natural instinct, especially when we’ve been trained in the art of the gospel, is to *teach*. We want to present the perfect testimony, to deploy the right scripture, to make the compelling argument. We want to move forward with the plan. But the Spirit often whispers that the breakthrough isn't achieved by more effort, but by a strategic, humble withdrawal—a step back to let the other person catch up to us.
This isn't weakness; it's profound spiritual maturity. It’s trusting that the Spirit, which guides the work, is more powerful than our own well-intentioned momentum. It’s remembering that the goal isn't to win the argument or to get the immediate conversion; the goal is to keep the relationship open, to model Christlike patience, and to let the seeds of truth take root in the soil of their hearts.
If you are feeling worn out by the intensity of the work, or if you feel like you are constantly having to *push* for understanding, I encourage you to meditate on this. Where in your current discipleship—whether it’s in your Book Club study, or in your efforts to be a better parent/friend/neighbor—do you need to practice the art of the retreat? Where do you need to resist the urge to solve everything immediately?
It takes the humility of a returning missionary who knows that even after the best training, the field always requires patience. It takes the faith of a lifelong disciple who knows that the Lord directs the timing.
Let's keep nurturing that deep, patient faith in our efforts. Remember, every member can be an Internet missionary, every member can be a disciple anywhere, all the time.
If you want to dig deeper into the principles of agency and trust, I highly recommend checking out the latest Iron Rod material on the Book of Mormon. It always provides such rich context for our discipleship journey.
For those who want to process these kinds of powerful, life-shaping stories, I encourage you to listen to the full episode of the podcast we discussed. It offers such a wonderful framework for understanding the nuances of human interaction.
Let's continue building Zion together, one patient step at a time.
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