Time to Rest

It moved in at about 5:45 on Friday morning.  The big open house we had rented for the retreat was swaying on its stilts even more than it had been the night before, when we all wandered around a little unsteady and disoriented.  I lay in bed for several minutes wondering if the roaring I heard was really the wind.  Too good to be true!  I got up and pulled my long-sleeved velour jacket on and grabbed a blanket from the closet.  When I stepped out onto the big porch, all the rockers were rocking in the wind.  I felt air on my face that was some twenty or thirty degrees cooler.  The trees were whipping back and forth and I grinned in quiet thanks for that first true moment of fall that always takes my breath away.  

Our first visit to Edisto Island was back in May.  Steve and I love to explore new places and this one completely caught my imagination.  No over-developed, fast-food, arcade noisy beach shopping strips here – just simply beautiful sunsets, happy families on wide deserted beaches, water birds, and occasional drop-ins by dolphin families.

That week-end sparked the idea for the women’s retreat that just wound down on Sunday.  I had been so caught up in planning that I had let the season sneak up on me. 

Now that we’re back, I wanted to capture what I could for memory’s sake.  We were so blessed through each other’s company and God’s direction.  There were eleven of us, a beautiful mixture of moms with young children, middle-aged with college kids and older ladies with grands.  Though disparate in age, we are alike in temperament, consideration, and of utmost importance, faith.  There was no bickering or complaining, only much laughter, quiet contemplation, and many tears.  It sounds like a Hallmark card, doesn’t it?  Way too idyllic to be real.  Yet it was; and we left closer to God and to each other.

Thursday afternoon, the four oldest ladies moved into the house and unloaded, promising ourselves one with an elevator next year.  We had a wonderful cold supper of ham, cold slaw, potato salad and home-made wheat bread.  (I won’t be describing all the food because there was so very much of it.  I’m simply opening the “food door.”)  When the tide began to come back in and the sun was ready to drop, we drove down to the “sound-end” of the island to watch sunset and look for dolphins.  Standing in the water and holding the delicate balance between watching the horizon for the sun that was playing behind the clouds and scanning the water for fins, we were mostly silent.  We were finally where we had wanted to be for several weeks. 

When the sun finally slipped behind the last bank of clouds, we realized that we would not be seeing a sunset on the edge of the horizon.  There were several men dragging nets for the bait fish that had come close in to shore.  The squawking diving birds and the men with nets should have alerted us.  We saw the first dolphin and began jumping around and slapping each other on the back.  Then our eyes began to adjust to the pods of three and four that were hovering in the area of the bait fish.  We left with the sense of self-satisfied accomplishment that you feel when you get off a roller coaster and the only thing you really did was to hang in for the whole ride.  We were pumped and ready for the rest of our group to arrive so we could crow!

We sat in rockers watching for our group and the first car load of four finally arrived laughing about being temporarily stuck in a gravel pit on the way.  We helped them bring their bags in and claim beds and rooms.  By now it was dark and I was waiting for 9:00 PM – we were supposed to see an almost full moon rise over the ocean.  Just as the next group of women pulled up, we commandeered their truck and set off for the opposite end of the island.  We calculated where we thought due east was and sat on pilings and waited for what was surely a gamble on this very cloudy night.  After about fifteen minutes and just before we gave up, someone pointed and said, “Is that it?”  We all gasped as we looked at a dark red moon hovering just over the water – mind you, not a harvest moon, not a bright yellow, orange or red moon, but one that was more brick red or burgundy.  We strained our eyes to make sure we were seeing what we thought we were seeing.  As the clouds moved, it finally floated away.

I’m not going to write about every single moment but simply try to capture the precious time I spent with these women.  We had wonderful, sharing sessions on prayer.  The weather may have let everyone else down, but it was so perfect for me – cloudy, gray, windy, with the promise of fall.  Food.  Can I just say that Baptist women, southern women know how to pamper each other?  We brought home-baked cookies and cakes and breakfast bread and coffee cake.  We had bowls of chocolate and other candy.  And these same women love to serve and wait on each other.  I’m pretty sure each one of us felt completely indulged.

We walked on the beach and waited for sunsets.  The dolphin came in close and played for us.  The birds dipped and squawked and honked.  The ocean dropped a supply of shells and even a starfish as a result of an offshore storm. 

And through it all, there was a sense of rest.   I was amazed that, even though I had provided lists of sightseeing tours and shops along with plenty of free time, none of us decided to leave the house, except to walk on the beach.  We napped, watched movies, played games and just enjoyed each other. 

And God was there.  In every activity, at every meal, with every prayer and for every study session.  We felt His presence in our thoughts and through each other.

As we gathered for one last prayer on the beach, I realized it.  I’ve often left a retreat with a sense of a “mountaintop” experience.  This one was different for me.  It was just an abiding sense of peace and love.  I’m hoping to carry it with me for a very long time.  God blessed us all this week-end and I’m grateful.

And I came home to red berries on my dogwoods and cooler breezes at night!