I am back from my retreat, and it was extraordinary.
Our God is a God who heals and restores. Who shines light in the dark places and does it all whilst never letting go of our hand.
When I arrived at the retreat house I spent my first evening mostly in tears. I was the only person staying there so I moved from outside to inside, through each room, exploring, crying all the time. When I reached the top of the stairs I came upon the Chapel and found myself kneeling by this print.
In that picture I saw myself and I saw Jesus. I saw his hand placed on my back, his head leaning in close, his other hand gently asking others to step back and leave us together. I saw my tears filling a bowl. I saw Jesus letting me cry. Not telling me to stop, or to pause, or to feel differently about my life or about Him.
Next to the print was a poem called ‘The Dancing Cross’, and the last verse seemed an impossible invitation to me at that time.
In the days that followed Jesus raised me from my knees and I’ve joined Him in the dance. It seemed an impossibility to me on the first evening as I lay crying on the floor of the Chapel, but for God, all things are possible. I will write about the steps of my journey in a series of posts on this blog which will begin next week. I won’t write any more here this week as I want to take some time to adjust to the peaceful rhythm and find my feet in this new dance.