44 Hours: Part 1

So, 66 years into this sojourn and the list of "first time I ever did this" is not being added to all that frequently. But last weekend was a glorious exception..... For some time I have wanted to go on a silent retreat but year followed year and it just wasn't happening. Until one morning, several weeks ago,  I was looking at a series of questions for reflection at the end of a chapter of a book I was studying.  I was literally wondering when I might find the time to actually do this when I just wrote this down : "Take this section to Pace whatever (I had forgotten the exact name of it) while Sandi is in Haiti."  I then read what I had just written as though it was a note given to me by someone else which was precisely what had just happened.  Father had just invited me to come along on an adventure and even gave me the timing of when it could occur. (I would like to say this is an everyday occurrence with me but it's just not.)

Within an hour I was on the phone making my appointment at Pacem in Terris. And last weekend I drove up for my 11:00 AM scheduled arrival time. It took a lot less time to get there than I had thought so I pulled over on a country road and attempted to start the process of slowing it all down.  Gosh, I was so excited, so filled with anticipation. I kept checking my watch, eager to drive into this place set aside from the din and hue. At last, 10: 58 AM, just enough time to come in one or two minutes late (I wouldn't want them thinking I was too excited or anything!).

As I drove into the parking lot there were about a dozen cars.  "Great, I suppose I am going to walk in to register and there will be a line...I hate lines."  I walked up a bit of a winding path strewn with fallen leaves. All was ever so quiet. The sun was bright, the sky very blue, the wind calm. I entered into a beautiful large house into what has to be the most quiet place I have ever entered. My breathing alone seemed to be intrusive. The door opening rang a chime that broke the silence.  Ha! No lines, no one at all, just tentative lil' ol' me pausing in the entry. Out comes a lovely young lady and she very warmly and quite softly says "You must be James."  Suddenly it became apparent that I was embarking on something that had my name on it, I was welcome, let's take our time, arrangements have been made...wow, let the mesmerizing begin!

I believe her name was Tamara and she asked if we could chat a bit.  There were several questions all aimed at getting an idea of how experienced I was at this, what was my background coming into this, what were my expectations. She gave me some idea of what to generally expect. She mentioned that I seemed very ready for this and was coming into it with what she believed was a healthy attitude (Heh, that's great to hear! My confidence just kicked up a notch!).  She also planted a seed that produced fruit through the entire weekend. She said that as excited as I probably was to experience this type of solitude, Papa (my word, not hers) was even more excited to have uninterrupted time with me. Wow!  What kind of story had I just stepped into here?

After a brief tour of the main house it was time to take me to my "hermitage". She met me at my car and we drove in the staff vehicle through the woods a short way to what was to be my home for the next 2 days. This was one of 16 identically built hermitages and mine was named after Saint Teresa of Avila. Tamara demonstrated the few things that needed to be mentioned...how to light the gas light mounted on the wall, how to light the gas burner to heat up water, the basic supplies in the closet. She wished me well, told me I would be prayed for and left. And there I was, surrounded by a deafening silence, looking out of a massive, squeaky-clean picture window into the fall-colored woods and so ready for whatever was to be. It was so quiet that even a mouse couldn't anonymously pass gas!

A large maple rocking chair with an afghan over the back, a crucifix, an open Jerusalem bible (to Psalm 23), an icon of Mary made it clear that this retreat center was of the Catholic persuasion. A tea kettle for heating water, a single bed, a closet complete with a flashlight, instant coffee and tea bags, some mugs, a fork, knife and spoon, a couple of plates, 2 spare votive candles, a set of fresh sheets, spare blanket and pillow, broom, dustpan, mop duster, walking stick, rain poncho, 3 hangers and a place to hang your clothes. I was also given a food basket that contained 2 apples, 2 oranges, 2 bananas, 2 small round loaves of bread, a hunk of cheddar cheese and a bran muffin. All this in a steep-roofed cabin about the size of a bedroom. Somehow the fact that there was just what was needed without one iota of excess  ministered peace to me. Someone had intentionally outfitted these hermitages with just what was necessary and nothing more....Brilliant!

I unpacked the few things I had brought, sat on the edge of my bed and was ever so grateful for what seemed already prepared for me in advance.....I was officially now a hermit.