The Ladies Retreat

What a wonderfully blessed time I had this past weekend! It's amazing what a few secluded God-focussed days can do for the attitude, as well as for the spirit. I felt such joy being with other women who were dedicated to the same things as I was, rejoicing in the simple pleasures of being in communion with each other and with God. Debbie Williams did a phenomenal job speaking, emphasizing her helpful tips on learning how to listen to the voice of the Holy Spirit, and becoming sensitive to it.

Though, I must admit, it wasn't cake that first night. Better to tell in story format I think.

I remember walking into the ballroom where our evening session was held. Mom had already selected a seat for us, and she was busy moving around making sure everything was ready to go for Mrs. Williams. The ballroom lights were dim for praise and worship, setting the mood for the evening. I remember praying desperately to hear God's voice, because I felt as if He had been absent from me for a long time. The Ladies Retreat meant revival, reconnection, rememberance. Yet, even as Debbie spoke in her dramatic, enticing, and alluring style, I felt like I wasn't hearing anything. Not anything new anyway. And that was what I wanted. Something dynamic and soul-stirring, something I would remember for the rest of my life.

It didn't happen.

I don't like to admit that I was disappointed, but the reality was that I was disappointed. I hadn't heard the words I had wanted to hear. I just hadn't. Our session was over, and I was wondering what I wanted to do next. The beach seemed like an enticing idea, and since all I really had to do was walk out the door to the hotel and across the sand, it was an even more appealing prospect.

So, I slipped off my shoes, tucked them into my new bag (compliments of Ms. Debbie Gilbert and all her friends in Uganda! ;D ), and started trekking across the sand. It was hard, packed, easy to walk across, and as I looked out and away from me, all I could see was this impending darkness. The ground blended into the sky, stars melting into the horizon that I couldn't quite discern. I started to get a bit nervous. Where was the water? Was I walking in the wrong direction? Why couldn't I hear the roll of the ocean's waves? Surely, as the noises of the hotel faded behind me, I would be able to hear something that would guide my path.

Step after step brought on more silence, more anxiety. I crested a small hill, finding myself twenty feet from the shore. And there it was, the beautiful whisper of the waves on the sand. I smiled, pleased with myself. I hadn't gotten lost after all.

Then a voice whispered to my heart, soft as the waves.

"Just as you have to draw close to the waters to hear the whisper of the waves, so must you draw closer to Me to hear My still, small voice."

I stared across the water, a small smile forming at the corners of my mouth. With a lightness of spirit, I turned and walked the length of the beach, returning to the hotel not a half-hour later.

The next night was when God gave me the words to properly express my vexation. It came to me in a poem. The one below. I hope it gives you readers as much comfort as it gives me. God lives. He speaks. All you have to do is draw close, be still, and know that He is God.

The Ocean's Roll

Oh night of silence, dark and deep,
My mind's awake, my brain's asleep.
A restlessness lies in my soul
Why can't I hear the ocean's roll?

My spirit's void, the touch of God
Is numbed, and doubt has made me trod
This path, the fear does plague my soul.
Why can't I hear the ocean's roll?

Then, in the silence, dark and deep,
God bid me close, a whispered plea
Out of my grasp, words did not toll.
I couldn't hear the ocean's roll.

Oh night of silence, dark and deep,
He touched my heart, it made me weep!
I'm close, and joy is in my soul
For I can hear the ocean's roll.