As I drove to Buffalo, MN, yesterday, I was aware of the ice houses that festooned the lakes along Hwy. 55. I did not grow up in Minnesota so these small, often colorful houses in their clusters of community still amaze me. Cars and trucks move to and from them on the highway of water that rests beneath. I found what I always find…I want to be out there. Make no mistake, I do not want to ice fish. What I want is the solace of the small, simple space of the ice house.

Do you remember as a child taking blankets and creating a cave under the dining room table? Blankets, sheets, anchored with heavy objects on the top of the table created a woven house where books and toys could be held safe by the glow of a flashlight….always a flashlight.

I remember how our boys and the other neighborhood children would climb the ladder into the tree house in our yard. They would keep watch over the houses, spy on other children, guard the yards and street. The newest ‘favorite’ toy was with them and they often sent down for snacks to be eaten in that small, simple space.

From the dining room of the retreat center, my colleagues and I watched the ice houses. We discussed the appeal and the ‘sanity’ of spending time out on the ice in these small structures. I expressed my desire to be there. One person said:"Perhaps ice fishing is really an ancient monastic practice." Probably not. But the longing, the need to pull away from the stuff of our everyday life has always been there. It calls to us still.

I am reminded that my Celtic ancestors built stone hives along the shores of Wales and retreated there for long periods of time. They spent time in prayer and solitude in these simple spaces. Ice…stone…not what we would think of as comforts. But the space they can create provides room for us to be still and know, to listen for the voice of the Holy One on the wind and in our hearts.

Do you need to get away from the stress and distractions of this day? There are ice houses all over the lakes in Minnesota. Or it may just be the time to push your chair back and crawl under your desk. If anyone asks, you can just say it is an ancient monastic practice.

"You are my shelter…from distress you will preserve me…"Psalm 32