a retreat experience

retreat /rɪˈtriːt/ - a period of withdrawal for prayer, meditation, study, or instruction under a director

According to all battle strategies; there is a time to retreat.

When -

We forget we are in a war. 
We don't build in the strategic moments of retreat. 
We face defeat.

God in His loving, attentive, all-wise way, beckons me to step away, leave it all, and go to a quiet place to rest, to hear, to rec calibrate ... in order to engage the battle with fresh vision and strength. My disobedience to my Commander-in-chief will lead to horrid outcomes.

Retreating is not a luxury. It is a necessity. And I nearly missed it.

After setting my heart and arranging to take a retreat; I made a last minute decision (upon my dear husband's strong support) to attend a 5-day writing-related conference. This was going to be just before my retreat dates; taking me away from home for more than a week. 

i tried to reason that perhaps i could kinda retreat during my conference if i stole pockets of time. But the very first day of conference, I was uncharacteristically exhausted! It looked like i couldn't even enjoy and benefit from the conference; much less burden it with one more agenda: God. 

Also, i needed and wanted to give Him undivided attention. 

Good thing I did not cancel my retreat plans!

Yesterday at Bible Study, we looked at that familiar verse from Mark 1v35:

"and while it was still dark, Jesus arose and went to a quiet place.."

We were asked: what did Jesus do in the dark and quiet when he met with God?

Did he look at the stars and remember the long-ago promise God gave to Abraham his ancestor?
Did he review the day's route and asked for God's-Positioning-System?
Did he ache over the faces and lives he encountered?
Did he grapple with his humanity?
Did he talk about each of his disciples by name?


What do you do when you get to a place of quiet with God?

Quite often in the past, I went into a retreat time with many burdens, questions and longings. My last retreat I went with a huge need to find direction as I was feeling so out of sorts with where I was at. I was doing what seemed right but it did not bring me peace and I felt my soul warping with frustration and pride.

Weeks earlier, I had several questions I wanted answers to at this retreat. But when I got to the place and set my things down in the bare room; I was unable to find or frame my questions.

A simple and bare space can do wonders for us. It seemed to strip me of the questions and longings that clung to me. As I shed all the things I usually surround myself with - no more laptop, familiar books, the cat (!), the schedule, responsibilities and noise... suddenly there is this sufficiency, this simplicity. I tried in fact to dig around because when I was busy and filled with much to think/say/do; the questions pressed on me with urgency. But now, they lose their power and their claim. So I stopped. I reminded myself that being on retreat is to receive care from the One who knows me completely. I gladly opened my hand and let Him lead the moments.

If you have never known the freedom of having no datelines, no whatsapp, no emails, no one to answer to...then you must go on a retreat! Simply being on your own with nothing to achieve/settle/ resolve is a most freeing experience. it is not that your troubles are all sorted out; it's just not the time for it. In fact, we are so used to being a problem-solving mode that we really need a break from it; in order to come back fresh.

I ate my meal quietly; it was all set out. I did not need to fuss over what to eat. There was just one option. I did find and enjoy the last green-tea packet though! Again, the mind gets to rest, the body gets to slow. This in turn allows the deepest part of us to surface.


I went to the lounge area and looked at some stuff on a table: art paper, two tins of fabric with needles and thread, a large bottle of buttons. In a cupboard I found markers and paint and glue. I walked away to sit in a large armchair and began exploring a huge hardcover book on Thomas Merton's art. A most charming title isn't it?

But my heart felt drawn to return to fiddle with those buttons. I flipped and read slowly; then I got up and went to the table. 

Not quite sure what i was going to slap together, I picked out some fifteen buttons that caught my eye. The word 'mystery' had been floating around so I wrote that down on the middle of the page. With a oil pastel, I drew a thick red line across the paper. Finally i drew and then stuck the buttons on. 

I selected a few books I found and took them to my room.

In the evening, I started to journal. The pages filled out quickly! The spiritual director I arranged to meet had suggested a few Scripture passages. I read those familiar passages and listened. As i journal; i realised those passages helped me to pray about the questions I had. It was good to turn the questions away from being a quest for answers to prayers that expressed my hope in a God who hears and answers.

sitting with Jesus

Over the next two days, God would let me know He knows exactly where I am at: the longing for clarity for my ministry, my recent dreams about a former church, entering a feminine season where loss and rejuvenation combine called menopause, growing children...

brave Mary

in the chapel

I felt something deep within me being filled up. 

Then the deepening impression. Joy. Joy, Joy. We need it but we are so afraid of it.

I prayed relinquishment.
I prayed hope.
i prayed about missing my mom.

i looked at my artwork and i knew its meaning would continue to unfold for me: there is mystery to life. But a river of redemption runs right through it. And along the way, God buttons us up where we may otherwise unravel or split apart.

When I finally packed my things, I was ready,and eager to be home.

Retreat to Advance.

You are the best parents for your child(ren): from praying for change to being changed -Uncommon prayers for your marriage

Our prayers for our spouses can be summarised in one word.

Yes, I have prayed those prayers and talked with countless women about their men and how we all pray... The word is -

c.h.a.n.g.e.

credit: Mashable

We need our guys to change.

Along the hi-ho way we discover to our chagrin that we aren't the matching Lego pieces. There are those awkward, sharp pointy edges that just get on our nerves -

not providing enough
not talking enough
not helping enough
not attentive enough
not spiritual enough!

Wait.

I am scrambling through every page of the Good Book to see if there was ever a promise that there would be an Enough Spouse. Rats.

No.

I am in pieces.

[You can read the highlights of the story in my book When God Shapes a w.i.f.e. {book nook}]

So yea, the common prayer in marriage? To ask for change. And perhaps even the temptation to check out and find someone fresh and more fitting. Or to be guilt-wrecked for we done gone and married a non.


Many wonderful women plead for change on their part too. I have lost count of the times I stood in church and instead of singing; I am praying for my horrid attitude and complete lack of love. We are not so blindsided or proud to fail to admit that we are not-quite-perfect ourselves.

Then I remember.
Of course.

Prayer - it's about a sharing of the heart's cry with the one who formed the heart.


So dig deep friends.

Over the years of digging around, I have found some difficult to reach spots and some crusted, dry regions that won't break open easily too.

Our prayers rise up from the ground of our hearts.

The wife who was betrayed and in self-protection numbs herself from all expectations may even cease to pray. But it isn't just a matter of requests not named. It is a heart that is not healed.


So over the years, I have found that in looking at the pride, fear, and love-less-ness that still resides in my heart; I have been led to Uncommon Prayers for -

truth
courage
honest conversations
kindness
gentle looks
generous laughter
serving others
loving beyond ourselves

It is so easy to forget God has joined together so that it is no longer Me but We.

Spirit-inspired prayers always foster the We back into the soil of the marriage.

Pray for eyes to see yourself the way Perfect Love sees.
Pray for eyes to see your spouse that way too.

May you pray from the depths of your heart - yes, start with the complaints; but move the conversation further. As you unburden, the Spirit finds space to move within you and surface those prayers that He himself prays and will therefore resonate with an answer from heaven.

Power, powerlessness,and Prayer in mothering (and 3 Qs to stare down your fears)

M is for motherhood. It is also for Mystery, misgivings, mistakes and marvelous things!

A new mom is always a good friend to an older mom - because - the older mom, has chalked up more mistakes; and she can lose the light of wonder if she is not careful! 

An older mom is a good friend to a new mom - because - the new mom is facing fears hitherto unmet; and she needs to know there are more fears to come and what seems so puzzling can be untangled with a little dexterity. 

So here is a little something from an older mom to my younger mom friends (and my older mom friends who agree & may need a little reminding :) 

With mommy-ing, you have stumbled upon an awesome power. It begins with the marvel that a life is being formed within you each living, brehting moment. As you cradle and care for the budding life, you get to see now that you can literally lift and shape a soul... and soon enough, you have those moments when you have feel you could go the other way and wreck it: when you lose it, when you are not sure what to do, when nothing seems to go right? Those days when your fears, anxieties and guilt bundle up and nearly suffocate you? 

Moms live with this strange tension of being powerful and powerless at the same time. 


And then, there are fears. 

Remember when you thought you crossed a threshold, jumped a hoop... you find something else coming around the bend. When they were small, I was afraid they didn't drink enough, eat properly, sleep safely through the night. They grew through all of that. Then -

I was afraid of nasty bug bits that left large painful welts, accidents, stranger saying strange things to my kids, other kids who may bully... 

Then I was afraid that she would be lonely, awkward, too strong, too meek...

I was afraid that she would be last in class, lose her things (for the tenth time), feel too stressed, not feel motivation, not really learn, not enjoy herself...become rude, selfish, mean..

I was afraid she would dislike church (waiting so long for us always), be mad at God for stuff that happened, live with cray expectations as a pastor's child...

I was afraid that she would not develop with gender confidence; feel weird around boys...mix with the wrong company...

I was afraid that she would develop an attitude, acne, act up.

 I see it now with trained eyes -- the fears won't end.

But -

fears can be fabulous things. Yes, really. Fear tells you what matters. And, Mothering matters; a lot. A mother who studies her fears and picks her battles is leaning into her maternal shape, hollowed out by trying one-more-time: a magnificent shape that cuddles, coddles, coaxes and coaches another little budding soul into ferocity (boy) and flower (girl).

You can stare down your fears. Like Max here:

where the wild things are {click to enjoy this video version of the famous children's book}

The supper was there, and it was still hot.

I am sure us moms will do just that. Feed our kids hot food even though we were fuming bad... and God our Father does the same. The food of our mothering joy may be delayed due to our silly antics; giving rise to many fears... but He will yet have a hot supper waiting for us.

What we need to learn is that when the fears come with the scary eyes, claws and teeth; we need to look at them squarely and take charge -- not of the child -- but of ourselves!

The answer to Parenting-power lies in managing oneself. 

I learnt that the fears will step back, quieten, and not be able to lay claim to me if I sought for the right answers through asking the right Questions -- nothing cuts through the fog like an incisive question, and nothing clarifies and emboldens like an honest answer.

Here are 3 questions to help take the bite and bloodiness out of the battle.

Q1: what is it I truly value and am afraid of losing here?

Every battle is energized by what it is afraid of losing. Will are you afraid of losing in this situation? Is it worth the battle? Will you really lose what truly counts? 

When I have asked this Q, I often find that what mattered most to me was the quality of the relationship: is there honour? is there honesty? is there humour?  I see what is at stake and recognise that things are not as messy or serious as I initially feel.

Q2: what can i really do about it?

It's good they eat all their greens and follow their routines. But is it fair for this particular child? Every child is a unique human person. What are my options with this child? What difference can i actually make at this point? How can this be done without jeopardising what truly matters? 
Do i need to learn a new way to think/feel/speak in order to make the right difference?

Q3: what am i really praying for?

Most of us pray 'rescue me' prayers. If we rescued our kids from every predicament; they will never grow. Why do we expect God to rescue us, when He wants to train us?

Also, are we praying for what truly matters? Good weather, the ability to handle the exam is all good. But what of creative solutions when caught in the rain and an excellent attitude to learning and revision? 

Rescue prayers happen because we are going so fast we step into potholes we did not anticipate. 

This is why reading, prayer, reflection, and talking to other parents are all very necessary parts of the parenting journey. It is far too easy to just shuffle between work and home, just catching one's breath. It is equally easy to be bogged down by meals, deals, and squeals (of protest) that we get all fogged up and end up drained and ineffectual. 

The only way is to slow down - enough - to pray through the first two questions and forge a constructive path ahead.  Slowing down also allows us to recall assurances God has he given so far, and to anchor back onto the larger movements of the Spirit that persists: God is faithful, and though the way is jagged and strewn with the debris of our mistakes, the journey is shaping up and the life is unfolding yet.

Just this month, older moms have shared with me children's graduation, awards, marriage. These same kids have driven these moms near crazy. As one mom put it, "...still remember bringing him to different schools to get somebody to take him in and even dragged him to take IQ tests to make sure he has no learning disability....But now, wow!".



Prayer is all the more a lifeline if you feel alone in your parenting. Your spouse may not quite get your values or plans. The Bible included a lovely story of  a mom and a grandma who knows all about that. 

They were the grandma and mom of a young man. His name is Timothy. Yes, the one in the Bible, the spiritual son of the great apostle Paul, the young pastor who did not quite have the stomach - physically; and for strong personalities, and sometimes felt pretty unsure about what he is meant to do... Yet, Timothy was a man of faith and he was pastor of young churches needing a faithful, wise shepherd. It may seem unlikely; but he was the man of the hour.

Timothy was born into an inter-faith family. From what we can glean, his dad was a regular Greek guy which mean myth, religion, hedonism and possible some chauvinism too. But Timothy had a grandma and mom who were Jews and devout ones at that.

4 amazing things* emerged from his life story, which we do well to remember:

1. It's really important for children to know the Scriptures from the earliest age.
2. It's really important to keep parenting - especially when the going gets tough. 
3. It's really amazing how an ordinary faith can lead to great usefulness. 
4. It's really amazing how our kids can turn out, despite all the obstacles.

 Points 1 and 2 are instructional. Points 2 and 4 are sooooo inspiring!

Slow down, pray, ask good questions, stare down your fears.

Mother on valiantly --

knowing you are shaping a soul one day at a time, one determined smile at a time, one teary conversation at a time, one more sacrifice, at a time.


And if you need a fika, arrange for one!

*adapted from desiringgod.org

Don't lose your 'ask-ability'...because you lose sight of God.

Dr Luke, who recorded as carefully as he can the events and words of Jesus included fourteen parables. In a few he prefaces the stories Jesus told by stating the purpose of the telling; like in chapter 18 -

Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up ~ Luke 18v1 

What intrigues me about this parable is how it ends.

For years I have heard this parable taught to me as a young person that this is about persistence. We must be persistent. 

But the ending -

However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth? ~v8

 is too drastic for a lesson on persistence.

No, this parable is about how we lack persistence.
It is a story that reveals how quickly we stop asking, how impatient we get for answers, how soon we resort to other sources for help.

Yes, our faith is often shaky, filmsy and short-breathed. It is a hyper-ventilating that resolves when we sense helps or solution nearing. It is a faith that may not be present when Christ comes looking out for it for we have traded it in for answers, fixes and escape routes.

God help me out of this mess...now!
Why aren't you giving me a mate?
How come others are prospering?

These cries are genuine, as is that poor widow's need for justice. In the parable, Jesus contrasts how a callous, godless human judge would - out of a desire to get rid of this vexation - do something for the widow. This are his words:

"Though I do not fear God nor regard man, yet because this widow troubles me I will avenge her, lest by her continual coming she weary me." ~ v4b-5

He couldn't care less about God or her. He cared for himself; and that is how the widow will get some reluctant help.

Jesus immediately contrasts this with God:

"And shall God not avenge His own elect who cry out day and night to Him, though he bears long with them?" ~ v7

God will settle scores for us.
God also bears with our cries for help.
+
Will Jesus find faith on earth in the end?

When we add these elements up, we see that this is a parable about whether we will persist in trusting God for justice when things go bad. It is about whether we will lose our ask-ability, because our asking is an outcome of our longing, and where we choose to turn to for answers.

The widow was convinced that her help would come from that judge and so she goes to him persistently.

Soul, sometimes God takes a while to show up.
Many times, his silence is shattering to us.
We wait long and it is easy to lose our desire to ask, to question if the asking is valid, to wonder if there are easier ways out.

You and I hand out the ipads and phones too quickly to quiet our restless kids.
You and I dish out answers too fast in the face of pain, suffering or ill-logic.
You and I are not God.

With God, there is a bearing with us.
With God, there is a definite outcome.
With God, there is a caring, involved justice system.

God does not distance himself. He does not operate on cold logic. He does not simply use some pre-determined formula.

In fact, this parable is dealing not so much with our asking - for our needs, what we call Petitions. It is talking about justice, about asking for the great and grand themes of life ala Les Miserables. It is about supplication, and intercession. In the closing days of human history as we know it when things get really rough, God calls us to remember His Justice and cling on.

And perhaps our asking for the daily stuff of life is deepening our capacity to trust God for the stuff that ultimately matters in eternity.


Soul, in your asking -
over days - you find your energy sapped.
over weeks - you see questions surface.
over months - you feel your heart breaking.
over years - you find your soul changing shape.

You come to a place beyond words. You sit in a spot where feelings seem suspended. You walk around like a bit lost, needing a home to rest in. 

This is when you will come to a fresh sighting of God; you are about to come alive in ways you never knew existed before.

So don't lose your ask-ability, because you are about to gain a fresh vision and a new lease of Life.

And when Jesus returns, you will run with joy into His broad arms that will scoop his faithful friend up!

*Scripture taken from NKJV & for a a list of the parables Jesus told {click here}.

No. 19 - aware of, in awe, and a prayer to YHWH

Many years ago, a young Pakistani young who visited our little fellowship sang a song out of the 18th Psalm. If i can figure out how, I may sing it for us here...that simple 3-chord song helped me fall in love with the power of the Psalms.

Several years later, I encountered the next Psalm, no.19. It was a time when i needed a strong anchor for my life - and the resounding confidence of the Psalmist drove those words clear into the marrow of my convictions~

"the Law of the LORD is perfect
reviving the soul"

It riveted my attention and pegged my will to a posture of submission.

So, today i share with us my gleanings as I visit no. 19 and I see in it a Psalm of Awakening. 

It begins with being stirred to see God's hand in creation and His massive rule over it all. 

The heavens declare the glory of God..
from the entire earth the design stands out,
the message reaches the whole world...
and nothing can escape his heat.

Just look ! {click}

The One who speaks the words that bring into being also has words for us which enlivens, guides and brings joy!

the Law of YHWH is perfect,
refreshment to the soul, ...
wisdom for the simple. 
the precepts of YHWH are honest,
joy for the heart; ...
light for the eyes.

YHWH creator God whose Presence looms large over all and who has established moral law is therefore to be acknowledged with fear and His judgement to be sought. 

How often do we pause to think how God judges a situation? I rarely hear of this in God-speak today; mostly I hear us accusing / questioning / God for failing to align with our judgment of the situation and so being blind to our very necessary needs!

This awakening leads into the prayer to be free from all our crazy self-enamoured tendencies-

who can detect his own failings?
wash away my hidden faults.
and from pride, preserve your servant,
never let it be my master...

and finally, this:

May the words of my mouth always find favour,
and the whispering of my heart, {yes, our hearts whisper / murmur / rant!}
in your presence, YHWH,
my rock, my redeemer.

a morning and evening Psalm

I reverse the sequence. Psalm 5 is a morning Psalm; 4 is an evening prayer.

Psalm 5~ 
v11 -  JOY for all who take refuse in You,
endless songs of gladness!

that's verse 11 though -and we get to verse 11 in our days. But often, with the many things we carry upon our shoulders and in our hearts, we wake up dreary with verse 1's 'listen to my cry for help!'. And it's a good way to begin the day: set our sights on the One and 'lay our case before him' (v3) to call to mind who God is - One who does not delight in perversion and injustice but will act decisively against such perpetrators. So the morning prayer quietens down to this

'lead me, make your way plain' (v8),

 and a sobering reminder that YHWH is the one who will protect for his favour works like a shield. (v12).


Psalm 4~
is an end-of-day time with God. And o how we know that even as we worked and wished and wrestled through our day, we often come face to with one more 'w' -weariness. So the question before us:

'how long will you be heavy of heart,

why love what is vain and chase after illusions?'

and i ask to be shown what vanities have captured my attention, what crazy notions have become so important to me? Prone to wonder and wander, to want to define our path... figure out our itinerary... we do it so well with travel plans and career and even relationships perhaps --  but somehow, life at large escapes us. Our success in the pieces don't set in place a clear picture of peace. Vanities and illusions abound.

indeed,

'many keep saying, who will put happiness before our eyes?' (v6)

for we sure cannot quite see it!

And we can carry all the questions, regrets, longings deep into our being and act out of them- lashing in anger, accusing others of letting us down, rehearsing our hurts.. So,
'be careful not to sin'
The Bible honestly acknowledges this reality that we are often conflicted and unsure...but teaches us

'on your beds keep silence'

which relates to a word given more than thousand years later:

'do not let the sun go down on your anger, do not give the devil a foothold' (Eph 4v26)

and i wonder: could it be that when we sleep we are vulnerable; and our enemy gladly enter through any breaches in trust. Our unresolved, un-rested  hearts and worried minds are gaps and welcome openings to him; so over time, it just gets easier for him to keep coming back and tormenting us over those same things. Do we feel a rut, an inability to grow, a repeated trend? Perhaps there is a need to quiet, slow, repent and let the One come and seal those gaps. Again, and again.

The greatest marvel of it all is limited man can know and enjoy unlimited transcendent GOD

' to my heart You are a richer joy than all..' (v7).

LORD lead us to This Delight. In your Mercy, hear my prayer.

a Quiet Morning Log

7am 

My alarm goes off, I feel my cat’s warm furry, purring body. She’s so rested. I need to get up to where I learn rest – for my depths. What holds in every storm-tossed soul is the quiet centre.

730am 

the train is packed with humanity trying to awake and live. One lady is too tired and succumbs to sleep. Another is putting on her mascara. Another is catching up on her Korean drama. The younger set mostly have their ears plugged. Most of the rest and standing in silence but I sense the cacophony of souls as surely as I see the faces of wear and worry.

745am 

This month I have not received any confirmed registrations. And I am tempted to stay home when this happens. But I know that this is not just for others. It’s also for me: I have set a date with my Maker and I intend to show up. Sure, he’s everywhere; but we know – that often means we are nowhere near Him. The Psalmist words come to mind, “when can I go to meet with my God?”  This longing is in our hearts especially when things get too much. But perhaps if we asked this regularly and then met Him regularly; things may not get too much so quickly.

The old hymn I learnt from the Methodist church rises within me, “Take time to be holy, speak oft with Thy Lord..”. Yes, if anything is equally allotted to us it is the hours in a day: twenty-four. If you are so blessed that you don’t have to hold three jobs and labour from dawn to midnight; take time, make time, to be holy! Holiness is a force that grows with habit.

812am 

I walk briskly into the Cathedral, aware I am late-- and nearly missed her! One person showed up. She had written two emails with profuse apology that she’s not an early riser although she so much wants to experience this. Today, she tells me her husband apologies that he needs to set the alarm for six; and although a pre-believer, he offers to ride her to the Cathedral. She had heard me teach about Journaling and our spiritual growth and wanted to experience the Quiet Morning because at the session I taught, she had found a ‘freedom’.

As we sat, questions and concerns began to tumble out all over. I listened and then directed her on how to spend her morning, prayed and sent her off to be alone with God using the guided format I provide.

As I sat with God, I also prayed for her. She is sincere but there is much that can hinder her. Yet I have a quiet confidence – for God always shows up when we do!

915am 

I walk over quietly and sat near her. She raised her head and I motioned to join her. Her notepad had lines of words on it. We talked about the experience and  she shared with me astonishingly personal words she sensed God gave her. Still more questions; we talked and then I invited her to pray as we close the time. She was nervous but she complied and I heard an earnest, honest prayer that warmed my heart. We hugged and I send her off into the day ahead of her.

I turned to make my way home too.

Next Quiet Morning happens on: Nov 8^th. 

Pls email me at jenni.yt.hohuan@gmail.com if you want to participate.

and here's the music & words for the hymn  ~"take time to be holy"

I fly away....literally!

an account of a personal prayer retreat

 

Day 1

 

Leaving on a Thai jet plane

 

It began with taking flight. Sometimes we must take leave of all that is familiar, routine.. especially when it begins to weigh and direct us in uneasy ways. We feel weary, joy is leaking too fast... Or when we feel strongly about certain things and may need to discern what our emotions, thoughts and even our bodies are trying to signal to us. it is time to disengage for a bit and re-anchor, hear, return to Centre, rest.

 

 

As the Thai language was spoken over the public address; it dawned on me that some twenty years ago, I took my first airplane ride – into Thailand on a Thai airways flight… I was seventeen on my way to the mountains of North Thailand. Then, I was young, eager and full of all my fears but yet confident I was shaping up to be a top-flight missionary. The team affirmed me and voted me “most likely missionary”. I guess this means that my self-assessment wasn’t too way off?

This time, I sit next to a busy executive who tells me the familiar story: work a few more years to save up then quit and do something more altruistic.

The second flight i sat next to an age-spot covered pot-bellied man who made my seat feel even smaller…

 

Pretty Woman

The retreat centre was so familiar the lady behind the counter went through it like routine. A taxi came up and a woman driver with a pretty smile and fresh perms helped me with my bag. I ask about children, then greeted her ‘happy mother’s day’. She speaks warily of a tomboy 30yr old daughter. Before I leave, I tell her I have come to pray and ask that she too seek God and pray for her daughter to find God’s love so she can love herself. I give her more than the expected fare and she smiles even wider.

 

The father

Fr Townsend appeared and helped me with my luggage. We walked to the Aruppe building and clamber up some narrow stairs, my left knee acting up a little. After a brief introduction to my room, he grinned and said, 'gentle down'. What kind words to a world weary traveler!

 

First Eucharist (communion)

It’s my first time sharing communion with my Catholic brethren. The old priest tall, with sandals that looked too small, came in his White robe. He seemed austere at first, but once he started speaking, there was a liveliness and authenticity that I simply had to smile and nod in eager response to. Some parts, he sounded like he used French; his European accent still thick and it became unclear when the words were read off the black book with its two bookmark laces that he kept fingering.

 

A young lady seated at far right began to sob. The lady next to me began to dig about in her pockets. I decided I would risk any incursion; and got up to get some tissue from my bag for her. The priest did not intervene and was not interrupted.

 

I began to talk with the Lord. I had traveled some eight hours and now about to embark on a necessary inward journey. "Lord, feed me" was my simple request. As the priest began to consecrate the bread, tears came to me. I felt a sadness. The it lifted. We ate the wafer after dipping it in the wine. For the first time I saw a priest munch on his larger wafer; then empty and dry the wine cup! Such aplomp – we Protestants have to drink our leftovers in the pantry!

 

After dinner, I retired to my room. The temperature upon arrival was 36 deg Celsius! I prayed earnestly for that to change!

 

After some tossing, I realized that I would have to use my back support cushion for a pillow and hugged the room pillow. Clearly missing my bolster here! (and no I am not referring to the human variety).

 

 

Day 2

 

First Light

It can be hard to rest easy when one is concerned about oversleeping! I must make the most of the early morning cool and then see Fr Townsend at 9am. Turns out it’s a pointless anxiety; because when i got up and looked: 545am.

 

Since breakfast is served at 7, and this is probably the coolest time of day or night, i got up. Without any clear agenda, everything can move unhurried. I put on the lightest tee I brought, considered my possible movements and packed my bag with Bible, journal, water bottle and my hand phone. I will need to find out if they may have an adaptor for me to charge it with. The hundred meter walk to the dining room was delightfully filled with bird aerobatics, squirrel playfulness, and cool morning air. I even spotted a cat!

 

The dining room was dark but simple bread with jams and butter were laid out. I smiled at the young girl who had walked in. The I saw the clock: 630am. Yikes! I had forgotten about the time difference again! I ate quietly all by myself then set out to wander the grounds. After wiping off leaves and dust, I found a comfy chair just my height made out of a tree stump. But the tropical insects were a little too friendly for me; so I moved to a building where I could fend them off- but alas the fan was a noisy clacking machine! I moved on again to the largest chapel of all. It was a big cavernous space with three columns of pews, a little organ right at the back near the entrance. The side walls had woodcuts of the stations of Christ. I sat toward the right after turning on a fan, suddenly aware that I have not longed for God, and I felt weary. The stained window had the deer from Psalm 42.

 

As I turned around to face the front, I noticed it: the Jesus on the crucifix right in the front affixed to the stain glass was flying off the cross! Not the usual arms pinned agony, but a triumphant, lively, leaping off figure with hands spread eagle and fingers splayed- I notice I was nervous he may actually come right down next to me. I also longed to touch those fingers, to hold, or rather be held by those hands. I lifted my arms for a brief moment, letting them meet his.

 

The labyrinth* lies just beyond this chapel. I have had mixed feelings about it: i fear being ahead, different, further misunderstood...But then, I am here by Your invitation, and it is for this that I have come! LORD, simply lead me.

 

God did.

 

Unhurried steps

A retreat affords us to really slow down for there is no one waiting to see us or demand things of us. The simple meals are prepared, the places tidied and even the laundry is done. All of a person's basic needs are attended to; an especially welcome break for mothers. All that is left is to move about without haste; taste the air, feel the breeze and breathe deeper.

 

Walking out to meet my director for an introduction session, i became aware of questions...bubbling to the surface. They filed orderly past my mind's screen. When I did later get a chance to try to recollect them, only two questions remained; and not with quite the same nuance. I turned this over to the Lord, certain He will guide me. After I tried to pin those disappearing bubbles of questions down, I sensed there were other concerns.

 

Later on, even though it was nearly midday, I felt it was time to walk the labyrinth. Funny how I had used this word 'labyrinth' years earlier to describe how lost I felt. I prepared myself at the threshold with a simple prayer for God to lead me and began walking. Again, I was aware of a certain distance, a lack of intimacy with the Lord. But thankfully, I did not turn all inward, absorbed with myself. I walked slowly feeling the crunch of the fine peebles, sometimes pausing to look at a leaf, and picked up a twig. It felt good to hold. It's easy to get impatient and think to jump the mere foot-high hedges to speed things along, I realised.

 

 

Soon, I began thanking God for the different periods of my life, beginning with my parents…

 

The greater drongo swooped dangerously close and then  stood on the branch of the large flame of the forest. I talked with it for a while, then noticed a cheeky little squirrel had come to join in the fun. Psalm 104 as sung by Amy Grant came to me...and then I heard: "you are my precious possession".  My heart was steadied. A bright orange and white butterfly seem to tease and play with me, flying ahead of me for several feet before disappearing into the main hedge.

 

Walking on, different prayers and songs emerged effortlessly...  as I finished, I asked the Lord, what He would have me do; especially in my church.

 

It got hot so i retreated to my room to freshen up and sit under the fan. I decide to continue reading the Way of Agape that I had brought along. The chapter I read was unequivocal: the simple, powerful word that remains the unchanging bedrock of what it means to love God: obedience.

 

More songs found their way out from within including a Chinese one that began 袮深深爱我， 我 也爱袮， 耶稣， 袮就在这里 （ni shen shen ai wo, wo ye ai ni, yesu ni jiu zai zhe li）...

 

 

Day 3

 

I was seeing my Fr David at 9, so I decided on a leisurely start, waking up, doing my stretches and taking a slowest walk I can mange to the dining hall. Even yesterday, my mind kept trying to plan what to say so I had to push those nervous thoughts away. The conversation wasn't to prove any point. He will never know the details of my struggles or questions; his role was to listen and suggest ways I can sharpen my discernment. The discoveries and decisions are all mine to make- the Spirit of truth leading me.

 

My quiet breakfast of an overlooked sunny side up with toast and milo was noisily interrupted by sounds of - believe me- construction ! Bane of the Singaporean! Well, I had seen early signs of it when I arrived. Thankfully, the noise would not be heard very far at all.

 

The conversation didn't seem too welcome at first, for I felt I had barely elucidated my plight. Perhaps my tears clouded things somewhat. But I listenend, and I heard affirmations really: things to consider; which I have. He referred to the storm Jesus calmed and it was one od the etxts i read in the morning which later arose within as a song with the line: "even while the storm waves beat, I rise and stand upon my feet for i have found that beneath me is soild ground".

 

 The reminder to discern spirits in particular was instructive; and yes, the talk returned me to God's sovereign watch-care and my responsibility to choose gratitude, love and kingdom - whatever the circumstances.

 

I return to the labyrinth. The greater drongo bird came by (again!), and then the talkative one-eye cat. It was a walk in sweetness, and i received a promise of being a fruitful vine. A plant i had not seen at all yesterday greeted me from the foot of the rock in the centre - so life springs from the Rock of my salvation!

 

Later I would find two gems in the library: Anthony Mello's The Way of Love, and Joan Chittister's Scarred by Struggle, Transformed by Hope. (just had to visit the library!)

 

My inward journey is nearly over, and I find my heart and thougts begin to remember individuals and their needs-- but mine is to lift them before the Lord and not solve or fix them.

 

God has surrounded me with Himself; sweetness follows me; and I was indeed led -- one memory, thought, confession, sin, truth, and possibility, to the next. I can write a book on decision-making now! Gently, my shepherd helped me see but yet would not let me sink into questions, regret and despair. Indeed, the final note is Hope which is not about specific outcomes but about being held, led and loved by Him without fail. Things may change as I walk in loving obedience, or they may not. What matters is I have changed from fear to courage, from needing answers to offering answers, from attachment to detachment, from longing and loss to freedom and love; LORD help me keep clinging to You, my Life-Source, the Vine!

 

 

 

 *the labyrinth is a ancient garden path that the church adopted to allow for a slow reflective walk. The most famous one is probably the one painted on the grounds of the Chartres Cathedral, France: