Retreat

One day he and his disciples got in a boat. “Let’s cross the lake,” he said. And off they went. It was smooth sailing, and he fell asleep. A terrific storm came up suddenly on the lake. Water poured in, and they were about to capsize. They woke Jesus: “Master, Master, we’re going to drown!” Getting to his feet, he told the wind, “Silence!” and the waves, “Quiet down!” They did it. The lake became smooth as glass. Then he said to his disciples, “Why can’t you trust me?” They were in absolute awe, staggered and stammering, “Who is this, anyway? He calls out to the winds and sea, and they do what he tells them!” Luke 8:22-25 (The Message)

I had to work yesterday for which I was grateful. Normally, I don’t like working on the weekend, but our house is such a mess and so loud with all the fans blasting that I was glad for an excuse to leave home. When I did return, with take out for dinner, because we cannot get to the stove right now, youngest son felt the same way and suggested we eat outside. Even in 50 degree temps with a blowing cold wind, it was better than being in the house. When the weather drove me back indoors, I realized I was not going to be able to stand being in that chaos, the noise, confusion and smell and decided to do as a wise friend had suggested and move upstairs into what was oldest son’s room which is now the guest room. There the blue glass vases and bowls collected by my grandmother’s and husband’s grandmothers and some of my own glass creations welcomed me. I looked at framed photographs of dahlias in North Carolina, a riverside cabin in Georgia and Vicki’s magical backyard and felt my stress begin to melt away. The poster sized photo of a blue chair I took once at the botanical gardens in Tallahassee looks so artsy and made me proud of my skill. The sleek white dressers held no clutter or stacks of paper rescued from the closet, and the white metal bed promised a restful nights sleep far away from the din of dehumidifiers and fans. The clean new carpet is fresh and does not smell of mold. Three large windows look into an old oak tree. There is a television, but who needs it with a comfortable chair, a Blue Ridge Mountain magazine, a warm afghan and a bookcase full of books positioned nearby? With a computer monitor I can hook to my laptop, I have use of my computer again. The bathroom is down the hall, but at least I can get to it without climbing over large equipment and cords. Yes, the corner is piled with craft supplies that should be in the closet if only oldest son would come home and get his junk, but I can live with that. Because it is quiet up here. Blissfully quiet. I just may never go back down. What we planned for a guest retreat has become our own place of refuge. I love this story of Jesus and His disciples. How many times in my life have I been in a storm wishing Jesus would do something when in fact, He is right there waiting for my call. He is not sleeping, but there with me in the midst of the chaos. Sometimes, He provides a place to get out of the wind until the storm calms. Other times, He carries me over the sea through the middle of the hurricane. Whatever happens, I can rest knowing He is in charge and more powerful than the tallest wave or strongest wind.