"Retreat" is an interesting word; it can mean to flee back, or it can mean to take time away from daily life to touch base with the inner self or God. Sometimes, it can mean both. This past Sunday, I had an impromptu retreat. Much happened, so I will try to keep this post as short as possible.
Saturday evening, my husband and I were driving to our friends' place for dinner and a visit. On the way down the highway, I got the urge to visit a State Park, but alone - without my husband. We've been there before, but always together. This urge was very specific too: leave early, bring nothing but water, sturdy shoes, comfortable clothes... no laptop, no book to read or work on, no cell phone, no watch, no technology at all. It will just be you and God. My mind wondered if this was similar to Christ's call to the desert after His Baptism, but the urge was clear - just one day, all day, tomorrow.
The next day I awoke and left shortly after sunrise, packing only water I left without breaking fast. I wore my old loose, comfortable sweatpants, a t-shirt, my hiking boots and two pairs of socks. I was the first to arrive at the State park that day.
As there were two main trails from the parking lot in opposite directions, I asked God aloud, "OK, which way would you like me to go?" Immediately a butterfly swooped down before me then danced along the path to the right until it disappeared from sight. I followed it.
This path led to an abandoned resort, where there were countless cabins and multi-unit dwellings, each unit with a shower, sink and toilet. There were cafeteria-type buildings, many recreation halls, lounges, snack-bars, rental buildings with items to use in the pool, beach, tennis court, miniature golf range, volleyball court, basketball court, etc. All of it had been abandoned, vandalized, had any valuables stolen (including copper pipes) and left to rot. Here and there were signs that the homeless had taken advantage of the free shelter too.
After wandering in and out of these buildings, with very little sign of any other human being in the park, I found myself down at the riverside on the little weed-strewn beach. There were other people there, playing in the water with their dogs. I took off my hot, stuffy boots and socks, rolled up my sweatpants and waded in. Splashing my face, arms and neck, I estimated we were near noon. I wondered why I was not yet hungry. The water felt good, I plunged the crown of my head it to wet down my hair. I had no hairbrush, but it didn't matter. The day was quite humid and temps soared around 100'F (38'C). The scent of river-water exuded from my skin, as I planted my backside at the water's edge and watched the baby fish dance around my toes that were semi-buried in the sand.
When all the others had left, I started to pray, in my heart at first, then aloud. I really don't know how long it was, and I felt I had not received any answers. But I was also told on the drive there that it would be hard at first; I was to have patience. At last, I brushed the sand from my feet, put on my socks and boots, rolled down my sweatpants, filled my water bottle from the gallon jug on my back and continued down the path.
Soon, I had roamed through the last of the buildings and found myself on a path following the riverside. Here and there were power boxes and lights affixed to trees, the lines long since cut down. Then, there was nothing man-made at all. Just nature - trees, grass, insects, water, bushes, wildlife.
As I continued down that path, I reached an open meadow / flood-plain where the sun beat down on my head and the grass reached above my knees. There was a narrow winding path that I continued to follow. Identifying horseshoe impressions, I assumed other humans had passed this way and it wasn't just an animal trail. Water appeared on both sides of this flood plain, and I wondered if this is one of the jetties that I had seen from another part of the park before; it was the first time I had taken this particular path. The ground became moist and muddy, mosquitoes grew in volume and hummed around me in droves. The land around me became narrower. It appeared the waters would meet just beyond the bushes ahead of me. The path led right through them. Normally, common sense would have told me to turn around by now - this was a dead end. I'd have to walk back through this semi-swamp getting bitten the whole way. Flies started to buzz; the scent of warm decaying fish on the shore greeted my nose. But something deep inside urged me to continue walking. Soon, my mind had left off reminiscing on all the empty buildings behind me and started focusing intently on the bushes ahead - on reaching the end of this journey. The ground grew very soft and pliant under my boots, leaving deep impressions. I started to pray - aloud.
When I wove my way around the bushes at the end, I was greeted by this expanse of tall pine trees, ones I normally would have seen over the bushes. To my left, instead of water, there was a hill that rose sharply up, the path continuing straight up it's incline. The ground under my feet was solid and over a foot above the riverbank. I turned around and there was nothing to be seen of the flood-plain. In a sense of awe and wonder, I followed the path up.
It was a good climb, the river still in view where it leveled off over 100 feet above. From there, there were five branches of trails in sight. I sat down - panting from the heat and exhaustion and stopped to give my thanks to God. I sat resting there a while and, before moving on, I raised my newly refilled water bottle to God in a salute of thanks and drank. During that rest, I re-commited myself - all of my being to God's will, not mine. I had found some Peace and renewed Strength. When I got up, however, the plastic cap to my water bottle was no where in sight. I searched through the leaves where I was sitting, but had to walk away with no top protecting the bottle, keeping the insects out.
When I asked "which way?", I was given "up". There was only one path that clearly climbed. I continued to climb up, and up, and up. Dripping with sweat and taking several breaks, I finally reached the summit. Thoughts of Mt. Sinai and Mount of Olives crossed my mind, but at the summit, nothing but a cool breeze. Though, I will admit, on a hot, humid, mosquito-and-fly biting summer climb several hundred feet above the riverway, it was a very welcome Blessing. I had long since gotten off the trail - any trail, including those of the wildlife. Under the pines, there is little undergrowth, so it is easy to keep weaving among the trunks following the rise in the ground. I rested and prayed, each time finding Strength and renewed commitment to keep going.
At the top, I could see for a good distance in every direction and asked which way. The sun broke through both some overhead clouds and the tree canopy at that moment, brilliantly illuminating a section about 50 feet below. I wove my way there, rested. Little spots of sunlight grew and faded all around as the clouds moved by overhead. When I was ready to continue, a new spot of brilliance grew even further down the hill - right upon a clear pathway.
When I reached the pathway, one direction was blocked by several branches of a fallen tree, so I went the other way. I was still in a part of the park that I never saw, so I had to rely on Trust that I wouldn't walk in circles. Soon after that thought danced through my mind, the trail disappeared, completely. I was urged not to turn back but to weave my way through the trees around a particular patch of swampy area in a depression. As soon as I had circled half-way around that patch, pushing my way through a wall of early-summer briars, I found the path start again as suddenly as it had cut off. This path, keep in mind is about 3-4 feet wide and generally solid ground cleared of weeds, not the narrow winding path like before. For it to suddenly end and re-start is quite... unexpected.
I followed the path for a while, winding downward and upward, leveling out at point about two-hundred feet above the river, a gray-blue ribbon peeking between tree-trunks far below. That's where my next major rest was; I sat with the trail behind me, facing the river down the steep hill. The flies buzzed loudly around me, dancing on my exposed skin of arm and face. The mosquitoes hummed loudly, distracting me from the hushed lullaby song of the wind through the trees.
I tried to relax, but the mosquitoes kept biting and the flies danced around the tear ducts of my eyes and tickled my arms. The more I kept swatting, the more they seemed determined to pester me - the more there seemed to be. I was told to relax; that I was safe. Thoughts of West Nile Virus and our own homegrown Lyme Disease danced in my mind as the insects moved around me. Ants stared to crawl on my legs and fall from the nearby overhanging branches. Spiders skittered. Who knows where the deer-ticks were... Fear loomed large. I don't admit my weaknesses readily, but insects can be a major fear-issue with me. Even though I can squash them with one finger, I run screaming from them. Now there were countless ones. I prayed for help, I prayed for the wind that would whisk them away. I prayed they disappeared. I prayed, and prayed, and prayed.
Finally, I admitted to God as well as myself - aloud over the hum and buzz of all these insects. "Father, you know I can't stand them, you know I am afraid, Please! Help me!" There was an overwhelming temptation to grab my pack with the water and run from there, but I stayed, and prayed. I was told God was there... with me. That I shouldn't give into the fear. Nudged to look to my left, I could see a small area where the trees waved as though in a very limited puff of wind. It moved toward me, it passed over/around me and moved on. When it approached, I thought "Good, the insects will be swept away." But when it had passed, the insects remained. Mosquitoes still drank my blood; flies still danced around my eyes; ants still crawled on me. But I was calm; they no longer bothered me as they had.
I was urged to sleep. To lie down in that place and sleep. To let my mind start to process what happened this day. But I still couldn't trust myself to lie on the ground where I could see ants. When I tried to drink from my water bottle, a large ant crawled on the clear plastic near my hand. My mind immediately thought it was inside the bottle, ready to be swallowed. I spit out the water and splashed a good deal of it onto the ground - wasted. While I had found some solace, apparently I hadn't given all my Trust completely into God's hands. I tried for a few minutes to rest with my head in my arm over my knees, but I was not comfortable enough. My mind kept tickling with thoughts. I could not sleep.
Another place was offered; I could see it in my mind. If I could reach a trail I knew, I could get there with no problem. When I shouldered my pack, and walked a few steps back to the path, I realized that I knew EXACTLY where I was. It surprised me a little that I did not recognize it before, but I was tired, and more determined to get to this other place - up on the crown of the other mountain in the park. I hiked across open fields and through woods, climbing a very steep path rather than the winding trails. My water diminished quickly as sweat poured off of me. I kept my thumb in my water bottle, determined to keep the insects out.
When I reached the summit, there were a pair of picnic tables and a bench overlooking a spectacular scene. The river was very far below, now and eagles and hawks rode the winds at nearly eye-level with where I sat. I rested on a picnic table, at first, refilling my water bottle. As I poured water from the gallon jug, my lost water bottle cap spilled out. I gave thanks for its return, and for the strength to climb this mountain, especially since I had not eaten all day. I was exhausted and ready to sleep - insects or no insects. Nearby, there was a patch of short-mown grass in the dappled shade of leaf trees. Behind this patch, one of the New England rough stone walls arched. Before this patch, the ground sloped gently upward, creating the feeling of safety and privacy - a perfect place to rest. The wind blew through the leaves, singing a sweet lullaby. I don't remember if there were any insects, except for these miniscule ants that left me alone. I curled up and slept deeply.
I don't know how long I slept, but I remember that my dreams were sorting stuff out. The empty vandalized rooms, while real, were also a sign of what was inside me. In my life, I had gone from room to room, seeking something but not finding it. My spirit has also done this - for many years. Parts of my spirit have been vandalized, gutted, and been abandoned by events and people in my life. But just as I walked away from them this day, I need to walk away from trying to fix them myself. I need to Trust. I need God. I cannot do it myself. God needs to fix that which is broken, vandalized and abandoned within me.
Half-asleep I could hear deep distant rumbles. I wondered at first if it was thunder or the
Moodus Noises; this was Machimoodus State Park after all, a Native American word for "Place of loud, strange noise." Yet, that was quickly forgotten, as I had an overwhelming sense of Presence around me. While I could not see anything directly at that time, all my memories of the next few moments have a brilliant Light in that clearing. It would move in the tree branches and dance toward me until the feeling of a intensely powerful Presence in such close proximity would create a trickle of fear. Then it would move back and dance closer again. It was not trying to frighten me, but reassure me.
While fully awake, I felt as though I was in a dream - everything around me seemed to hold onto this ... glow - of life - the trees, the grass, my skin, the sky. The rumbles continued, but it seemed to be in the opposite direction from where this Presence was. There was Peace and Joy, if a bit a fear / trepidation when it seemed almost too much to bear. Was this a manifestation of God? I felt safe and was assured no one else was around. That what would happen would be undisturbed by humans or animals. I was to let down ALL of my defenses. Just trust...
I did - little by little, but I did. Even the curiosity over the rumbles subsided as I followed my commitments from earlier. All that I am, all that I was, all that I will ever be - mind, body, heart, spirit, soul, my very being and breath of life - I gave to God. "Breathe. Just breathe deep." I opened my mouth wide and inhaled deeply. "Receive the Spirit." With that inhale, Something entered me. My head spun and the world seemed to become severely disjointed. Then for a few heartbeats, all I could see was this golden-white Light. There was no other sensation. When sight returned, I was still on the ground where I had slept, but sitting up. The glow of the items around had vanished and every nerve in my body felt alive. I could even feel every hair follicle on my head. Peace, Joy, Life, inside, but no fear...
The rumbles continued - more frequently. The sky overhead was still blue, but I had identified this as thunder now. And thunderstorms move fast. As I got up, I could see behind me, in the other direction, that the sky had darkened ominously. Well aware of where I was and how to get back to the parking lot, I grabbed my pack and headed down the path. The thunder continued. The more I focused on the storm, the more trepidation I felt. The wind changed around me and all wildlife seemed hushed by the approaching storm. Even the insects no longer buzzed about me. I still had a good distance to cover.
"Trust God, Trust God," I kept telling myself. By the end of the journey, I was saying a prayer with every breath, trying to focus on that rather than the storm. The woods felt safer, for the trees were much taller than I. But the last leg of the journey was an open field, past a shallow wide pond, toward an old (all-steel) Jeep - a lightning magnet and I was the tallest object out there....
Needless to say, I thanked God the moment I reached the safety of the Jeep and climbed into its blistering hot interior. I was the last to leave the park; I was only one there since I had woken up, it seemed. It wasn't until I started to leave the parking lot that I noted, the sky overhead was still completely clear. The storm was around me, but overhead was completely - cloudless with the sun still shining down. I had been safe the entire time.
It was a doozie of a storm too, though I had not seen it - hailstones the size of golf balls pelted the towns around. Winds had knocked out power for miles and miles down the eastern seaboard.
Despite all the storms, I was safe - my last lesson in the retreat that day.
I am still processing all that happened. But I am eternally grateful for all that happened that day.
Thank you, God, for sharing that with me.
Yet, even after that, I find lightning beautiful to watch. There was a pretty violent storm last night in our area. I took a few moments to step just outside the door under the shelter of the porch to watch. I know now this doesn't guarantee my safety, but the view is irresistible.
The fear comes from a part of ourselves that is in active defiance of God. It believes there is reason to fear reprimand and correction by God. God's touch, however, simply peels that part from us, leaving us as we are created - something that loves and is lovable. That - in pure essence - is forgiveness. It's only when we associate with this defiance, refusing to let it go, that we find ourselves separated from the Divine...
